Page 24 of An Offer of Marriage (Engaged to Mr Darcy #7)
DISARMED REPROOF
G eorgiana and Lady Matlock arrived the very next morning. Lady Matlock was genial to Mrs Gardiner, exclaiming over the house, and expressing her regret that Mr Gardiner was not at home.
“Forgive us, that my husband is not here to receive you,” Mrs Gardiner said smoothly.
“Oh no, I did not suppose he should be,” said Lady Matlock. “There are many demands on his time, I am sure.”
Elizabeth suspected something of a coolness in her ladyship’s manner towards her, but in Georgiana it was certain.
Georgiana had scarcely a syllable to utter, but her countenance showed that distaste, and not diffidence, was the cause.
Elizabeth had not been in eager anticipation of the day, but seeing Georgiana’s demeanour made her wonder how she was meant to get through it—and every day thereafter.
Lady Matlock had written out a list of items she imagined Elizabeth to need and showed it to Elizabeth as soon as the carriage began to move. Elizabeth gasped at the length of it. Her father could not afford half as many items as were on her ladyship’s list.
Peering at her closely, Lady Matlock said, “It is my understanding that you have not been in London Society very much?”
“Not at all, your ladyship.”
“And the society of Hertfordshire, it is…?”
“We dine with twenty-four families, and I do not believe any of them come to town for the Season.”
Lady Matlock nodded her head, looking as if she was considering that. Elizabeth decided to come to the point rather than continue in such an oblique way.
“I doubt that I have any gown which will be suitable,” she said. “The one I wore to the theatre was once my aunt’s.”
“You looked lovely in that,” said Lady Matlock kindly.
“Thank you, but it is three years old and may perhaps seem outdated to those accustomed to the first fashions. Alas, I do not know if my father?—”
“Darcy has arranged all the accounts,” Lady Matlock reassured her. “He wishes to see you properly prepared for what is to come.”
“Or at least to look like I am,” Elizabeth replied, and Lady Matlock offered a quick agreement.
Georgiana was not amused. “That is the important part, is it not? To look the part?”
“Georgiana,” Lady Matlock chided her quietly.
Georgiana sniffed and stared out the window.
After a moment, Lady Matlock added, “It is of utmost importance that everyone appears happy and congenial while we shop today.”
Georgiana remained looking out the window, and said, “I know, Aunt. You may depend on me; I may not be as good an actress as some people are, but I will do my best.”
Lady Matlock’s eyes were on Elizabeth, so Elizabeth smiled and nodded, inwardly wishing she could somehow escape the entire day. The three ladies were silent for the rest of the ride to Bond Street.
The day proved exhausting in a way that Elizabeth had never before been exhausted.
She succumbed to Lady Matlock’s guidance happily—fashion was not her strength, even with seemingly unlimited funds, and her ladyship would surely know more than she did about looking well.
Her deference was pleasing to the countess; she warmed more and more as the hours went on.
“Your figure is lovely, dear,” said Lady Matlock as Elizabeth stood before them on the step riser, clad in her stays and petticoat.
The seamstress had gone off to locate a gown, partly finished, that had been commissioned by the daughter of the Duchess of Eldermere who had subsequently decided she did not need it.
It seemed that abandoned half-gowns were Elizabeth’s best opportunities and happily they were in plenitude.
“Well, it surely is convenient,” Elizabeth replied. “Far easier to take a bodice in here and there than it is to expand them. I should never have imagined I would find so many abandoned gowns.”
“Ladies order too much of one garment and then find they need more of another,” said Lady Matlock. “Some refuse to re-wear gowns for evening, which I think is utter nonsense.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, it is certainly not so where I am from.”
Georgiana barked a scoffing laugh at that, the first sound she had made in some time. “I should think not.”
Lady Matlock rose from the chair where she had been observing Elizabeth being fitted. “Come with me, Georgiana,” she said in a gentle tone that somehow brooked no opposition.
Georgiana obeyed and the pair of them disappeared into another part of the shop. A few minutes later, they reappeared along with the seamstress. Georgiana had a false-looking smile on her face and said, too brightly, “I daresay you will make a beautiful bride, Elizabeth!”
Elizabeth thanked her but said no more than that. Was this how it was to be, then? Endless censure and bile?
When the exertions and expenditures had been concluded, Elizabeth was the new owner of more gowns and accoutrements than had been possessed by all the Bennet sisters combined.
And still Lady Matlock feared it was not enough, reviewing the purchases as the ladies climbed into the carriage.
“No mind,” she said decisively as the carriage began to move away from Bond Street. “Neither was Rome built in a day.”
“But it did burn in one,” Elizabeth concluded softly, causing the other two to give surprised-sounding laughs.
“I hope you do not feel as if you are burning,” said Lady Matlock kindly.
“On the contrary. It seems I have already burnt things down.” Elizabeth paused. His relations were to be her only allies it seemed, and only because they were forced. Perhaps if they could understand, somewhat, her side of things? To know she regretted her sharp tongue?
“I would have you both know…I am not a cruel person, but I have been…spiteful to him in the past, it is true. And I regret it, deeply, and in some ways am thankful for this falling-out between us, for it has made me come to know myself better. I hope I might emerge an improved being afte r this; I shall certainly try to reform the defects in my character.”
The other ladies, for several horrifying long minutes, seemed discomfited by her candour, glancing at one another and shifting in their seats.
It made her shrink back in hers before adding, “I only wished you both to know the truth. You love him, and have an enviable family bond amongst you; I could not continue on without letting you know how regretful I am for everything.”
“We do not know of anything you speak besides the matter in Kent,” said Lady Matlock finally. “There were…other times as well?”
After a fortifying breath, Elizabeth nodded.
“Why?” Georgiana asked, sounding antagonistic. She had her arms folded across her chest and a challenging expression on her face. “Surely you could see what an exemplary sort of gentleman he is.”
“Well…” Elizabeth gave a weak little chuckle, and reached up to toy with one curl. “In fact, no, I did not see that.”
Georgiana protested immediately. “How could you not? He is so good and so kind to everyone!”
Elizabeth bit her lip, unsure of how much to say or tell. The wisest course would be to say nothing, but she could not bear to take all of this blame on herself. She might have been cruel, but it was not unprovoked.
“Elizabeth?” Lady Matlock watched her closely. “It seems you might have your own side of the story.”
“I would not have you think I wish to defame him,” she began slowly. “But yes, Darcy and I had a wrong-footed beginning to be sure.”
She began by telling them of the fateful night at the assembly in Meryton, of Darcy’s insult towards her.
It was gratifying, in some ways, to see both pairs of eyes fly wide in horror, to hear his sister gasp.
“I do not say these things to discredit him, only to explain why…why I teased him in such a way. It seemed harmless—for what should such a man care about anything I might say?”
Lady Matlock heaved an enormous sigh. “The pain of being a woman lies not in the birthing of children, but in the need to always keep our opinions to ourselves, to remain genteel and sweet-natured no matter what.”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth. “Or to tell the story to our friends and laugh about it instead of feeling the full embarrassment of it all. It was all about the neighbourhood the next days. For a man like Mr Darcy to come into the neighbourhood and insult me in that way…everyone pitied me, of course, but I am not one to relish being thought pitiful.”
She then went on to explain the circumstances around her stay at Netherfield and how plain it had been to her that no one wanted her there.
“It was very awkward. Miss Bingley was decidedly less than hospitable, but I could not leave my dear Jane. She was so very ill, and I simply did not imagine Miss Bingley and her sister would care for her!”
“Miss Bingley,” said Lady Matlock with authority, “could not be depended upon to provide water to a dying man.”
Georgiana nodded enthusiastically at that.
Elizabeth then explained how George Wickham had poisoned her further against Darcy. The other two ladies looked grim at the very mention of Mr Wickham’s name but only made little noises of disgust at the mention of his many lies.
“Clearly there is much of this history that can now be seen in a far different light, but at the time…”
“I surely understand how it was you came to be so…so disgusted by Darcy,” said Lady Matlock. “He was not himself, to be sure.”
“Because of me,” said Georgiana, frowning.
“Because of Mr Wickham ,” Elizabeth asserted firmly. “Not you.”
For this small thing, Elizabeth earned a smile, the first genuine smile of the day, she reckoned, at least from Georgiana.
“Nevertheless, I pray neither of you think I seek to excuse myself or to make it seem that my words or my deeds were justified. I did not know Darcy’s side of things in any of this, of course, but neither did I allow that he might have had a side.
In cases such as these, usually a person can say, ‘Well, I never meant to hurt him’…
but I am afraid I have no such comfort. For I did mean to say all that I did, I did mean to sling my little arrows…
because I never believed he was capable of feeling a single one.
In the matter of his proposal… Perhaps the less said, the better on that subject. ”
It was not to be. It seemed Lady Matlock and Georgiana desired to know; Elizabeth told them some of it, if in broad terms. The other two ladies had exhausted their supply of shocks and gasps; Georgiana only looked down at her hands, and Lady Matlock merely shook her head.
Elizabeth concluded by saying, “You see, I never intended to deceive him. I was hurt and angry?—”
“Of course you were!” Lady Matlock cried staunchly. “Gracious me, I have a mind to box his ears for being so disagreeable.”
Elizabeth smiled weakly. “And when I spoke to Mrs Collins, I was just…just saying things. Stupid things, words I never meant. Events spun out of control, I fear.”
And then came tears, the tears which seemed always at the ready.
She apologised, in a blubbering way. “I am not generally the sort of lady to constantly dissolve into tears, but this has all been…very trying. To say the least. Because I do realise now that he is not some black-hearted villain, only someone I have gravely misunderstood, and I do not know if there should be a second chance for us.”
“But in the matter of your family?—”
“He is not wrong,” Elizabeth said, dashing her fingers against the tears which stubbornly refused to cease. “But the justice of his words did not make them any less mortifying.”
Lady Matlock had moved to the bench with her and put one arm about her shoulders while her other hand patted Elizabeth through a thoughtful minute or two. “This marriage is being forced upon you even as much as it is upon him.”
“Yes…but also no. I…” Elizabeth hardly knew what she thought or felt at this point, only that there had been times in the last confusing week when she had wished to marry him. “I had certainly come to see the better side of him. It was unfortunately timed with him seeing the worst side of me .”
“I think you and Darcy can sort all of this out. One good conversation would do the trick!” Lady Matlock consoled her.
“I wish it would,” Elizabeth admitted. “I can only hope and pray that he will one day hear me.”
“Would you like me to speak to him?” Georgiana leant forwards and placed her hand atop Elizabeth’s arm.
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. I fear it might anger him further. I would not wish him to imagine that I had been abusing him to his relations, or seeking to humiliate him.”
“Perhaps after the wedding,” Lady Matlock suggested. “Once things are settled a little more, his temper will cool and you might speak to him as you did to us. ”
Remembering his rejection of her letters of explanation, “One might hope” was all Elizabeth could reply.