Page 47 of A Rational Man (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

M r. Darcy arrived at Netherfield on the twenty-third of February, as he had promised.

Mrs. Hurst greeted him at the door, explaining that she was now Netherfield’s hostess in Miss Bingley’s absence.

He politely enquired as to Miss Bingley’s whereabouts, and was very glad to learn that she now made her home in Scarborough with an aunt.

Manners forbade Mr. Darcy from further enquiries on the subject, but Mr. Bingley arrived just a moment later and had no compunction in providing details on the subject.

“Darcy! I see Louisa greeted you – yes, I sent Caroline away.

You did not think I could do it, did you?

No, there is no use denying it. But my love for Jane triumphed –“

Here Mrs. Hurst laid a gentle hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Charles, may we not allow Mr. Darcy to have refreshments? Or would you prefer to go to your room first, sir?”

Mr. Darcy said that refreshments first would be delightful, and so the party moved into the drawing room. Mrs. Hurst signaled to the maid, who returned shortly with a tea tray.

“Have you found your wife yet, Darcy?” Mr. Bingley enquired, a roguish glint in his eye.

“Sadly, I have not had your good fortune, Bingley,” Mr. Darcy returned. “But it is not for lack of looking.”

“I rather thought you liked Miss Elizabeth, Darcy. The two of you spent a good deal of time together. But it is not for me to play matchmaker for you. Say, would you like to accompany me to Longbourn today?”

Mr. Darcy hesitated. He had promised himself to avoid Miss Elizabeth as much as possible, but with this carrot now dangled right under his nose…”Of course, Bingley. Just give me half an hour to change into more appropriate clothing.”

As he went up the stairs to his room, he berated himself for his lack of self-discipline.

He should change his mind and not go to Longbourn.

He could develop a headache, he could insist that he had correspondence to attend to.

But he knew that he would make none of these excuses.

Where Miss Elizabeth was concerned, he was not master of himself.

***

All the Bennet ladies were in the parlour when Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy were announced. They rose and curtsied; the gentlemen declined refreshments and found seats; Kitty immediately rose from her place beside Jane and offered it to Mr. Bingley, who took it with quiet thanks.

Mr. Darcy’s eyes had sought Miss Elizabeth the moment he had entered the room, but she refused to meet his eyes. She looked first at the carpet and then down at her sewing. She is as eager to avoid me as I am to avoid her, he thought. Good; that will make this easier.

But somehow he found himself seated in a chair near her; manners dictated that he speak to her, so he asked her how she was.

“I am well, thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

Just let it go now, he instructed himself, but soon heard himself say, “I have the honour of standing up with Bingley tomorrow.”

“So I understand.” She still would not look at him.

“You are standing up with your sister, are you not?” Why could he not make himself stop? She clearly had no interest in conversing with him.

“I am.”

Finally, he whispered, “Will you not look at me, Miss Elizabeth?”

She turned those glorious eyes on him, then, and he felt himself falling into their depths. Had there ever been eyes like these before? So dark, so large, such long lashes, such a perfect shape…all those young ladies he had danced with, none of them had had such eyes…

“I apologise for my poor manners, Mr. Darcy,” she whispered. “But this is all rather difficult.”

“I have…I have thought of you often, Miss Elizabeth.”

Her eyes widened and then looked back at her sewing. “I wish you would not say such things to me, Mr. Darcy.”

“I know I should not; I cannot seem to help myself.”

“Have you found a wife in London yet?”

“No.” The single syllable contained all his anguish, all his desperation; surely she could hear it!

“I am sorry to hear of it; doubtless you will succeed before the Season is over. I will be happy for you.”

“Will you?”

“Of course.” She thought of Gottfried Leibniz; did he not define true love as being delighted by the happiness of someone, or to experience pleasure upon the happiness of another?

If she truly loved Mr. Darcy, she would be delighted by his happiness.

She would, of course. She vowed it to herself; when he married, she would be pleased.

“What are you two talking about so quietly over there?” Mrs. Bennet called out.

Both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were relieved by the interruption; the conversation had become too difficult to continue. Mr. Darcy answered Mrs. Bennet’s question, saying that they had been discussing the likelihood of the weather being fair tomorrow.

“Darcy!” Mr. Bennet, entering the room and seeing his friend, called out his name. “No one told me you were here; have you time for a game of chess?” Mr. Darcy rose to shake hands with Mr. Bennet as he approached.

“I fear not,” Mr. Bingley said, rising from his seat. “My sister expects us back.”

“Shame, that,” Mr. Bennet replied. “I have missed my chess partner. When do you return to London, Darcy?”

“Immediately after the wedding breakfast,” Mr. Darcy replied. “But I too have missed our games.”

“Darcy will doubtless visit us at Netherfield after the Season, will you not? Darcy?” Mr. Bingley asked.

“We shall see,” was the noncommittal response.

***

The next day dawned as clear and beautiful as anyone might hope for in late February. Mr. Darcy stood beside his friend in the small chapel as they waited for the bride to arrive. “You are nervous, Bingley,” he observed.

“I am excited, not nervous, Darcy. Not the same thing.”

“You are right, it is not.”

“To marry the lady I love! An entire lifetime of happiness to look forward to! I am the most fortunate man alive, Darcy!” Mr. Bingley’s voice was filled with joy.

Mr. Darcy could not help comparing Mr. Bingley’s situation with that of his cousin Daniel. Daniel would be denied this lifetime of happiness…but then again, Daniel had never sought it. He only wished to fill his nursery so that the title would be safe; he had no interest in the bride.

And what do I want? Mr. Darcy wondered. I, too, could choose any young lady with sufficient dowry and connections and let her live in London while I continue at Pemberley. But he knew himself well enough to know that this would not content him.

What he wanted was Elizabeth Bennet. Was her lack of dowry truly that much of a problem?

Was he selling his lifelong happiness, that which was lighting up Bingley’s face like the sun, for the amount of a dowry?

He recalled Georgiana’s offer to give up ten thousand pounds of her own money if that would help her brother marry the woman he loved.

He could not take Georgiana’s money, of course, but would he marry Miss Elizabeth if she had ten thousand pounds?

He would. Very well, what if she had eight thousand pounds, he asked himself. Yes, he would.

There was a commotion in the church and he was roused from his calculations. There was Miss Elizabeth, radiant in her rose gown! His eyes followed her as she walked up to the altar, smiled beautifully at Mr. Bingley and then stood on the other side of the altar, avoiding Mr. Darcy’s eyes.

There was a gasp, then, and his eyes left Miss Elizabeth for a moment to register the fact that Miss Bennet was now walking down the aisle. She was a stunningly beautiful bride in blue satin, there could be no doubt of it, but his heart was not touched by her.

He heard Mr. Bingley take a deep breath. “Is she not the loveliest creature on earth?”

He did not think a reply was necessary, for Mr. Bingley’s attention was completely on Miss Bennet. The two smiled at one another so tenderly that Mr. Darcy’s breath caught in his throat.

This is what he was giving up! He looked again at Miss Elizabeth, who was glowing with her own joy at having a beloved sister married.

The service was now underway, and Mr. Darcy did his best to give his attention to Mr. James. When it was over, the happy couple got into Mr. Bingley’s carriage and drove to Longbourn, leaving Mr. Darcy and the Hursts to make their way on foot.

“Could Bingley not have let us into his carriage?” Mr. Hurst grumbled.

“Surely you would not interrupt their first moments as husband and wife!” Mrs. Hurst protested, laughing. “Harold, do you not recall your own actions immediately after our wedding?”

Mr. Hurst was forced to laugh himself. “I do, of course, Louisa. You are right; I shall not begrudge Bingley his bit of privacy.”

They were at Longbourn soon enough; the house was filled to overflowing with guests, including the Gardiners from London.

Everyone paused to congratulate the new Mr. and Mrs. Bingley before making their way to the dining room to enjoy hot rolls, buttered toast, tongue, ham, chicken, eggs and, of course, the very elegant wedding cake in the center of the table.

Mr. Darcy’s recent social activities had not cured him of his distaste for crowds; he stood to the side to allow the other guests to fill their plates; only when the crowd had dispersed did he partake.

He knew he was very much on the verge of saying something, doing something, that his rational self would regret. He must leave as soon as possible.

He said his farewells to the Bingleys, the Hursts, Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet and then – finally – Miss Elizabeth. He bowed before her, but had no idea how to take his leave of her. It was she who released him, saying, “Good-bye, Mr. Darcy. I wish you good luck in London.”

“I thank you,” he replied gravely, his eyes still on her face.

She looked at him; their eyes met and held. He moved toward her, one step. He reached for her hand as if mesmerised. She let him take it. They stood like that for a long moment, her hand in his, eyes exchanging words that could not be said.

“Darcy! Come again soon,” Mr. Bennet was suddenly at his side.

Mr. Darcy returned to his senses; he dropped Miss Elizabeth’s hand as if it burned him. Turning to Mr. Bennet, he made a polite comment about future chess matches. When he turned back, Miss Elizabeth was gone.

Mr. Bennet was left to wonder if he had done the right thing in interrupting that tender moment. He believed that Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth would be an excellent match; he also believed that Mr. Darcy would never see sense and offer for her, so there was no point in allowing Elizabeth to have hopes.