Page 41 of Beyond Pride, Past Prejudice
Half an hour after breakfast, the entire party was prepared for their first walk in Bath, ready to explore the charming city and to drink the waters—the main purpose of the visit, at least for some.
“Are you certain they have arrived?” Elizabeth murmured to her aunt.
“Yes, my dear. I can scarcely imagine a more fitting occasion for the two of you to meet, in this charming city where you do not have shared memories,” Mrs Gardiner replied.
Elizabeth’s smile bore a striking resemblance to her father’s, prompting Mrs Gardiner to whisper, “Refrain from appearing so sardonic! Stop smiling in your father’s fashion, particularly when we encounter the Darcys. You cannot fault him for arrogance if you greet him with such an expression.”
“Do not scold me. It seems hypocritical of me to blame my mother for scheming all day long when I find myself at the heart of such a plot, to which I have given my full consent.”
“Do you expect me to say something to ease your conscience?” Mrs Gardiner spoke with a smile, watching her closely.
Elizabeth sighed, exhibiting an even brighter smile in return that showed the real situation, her heart burning from expectation and hope, yet she continued in a rather stern voice, “It is the clearest proof that one ought not to judge anyone else.”
“Not even Mr Darcy,” her aunt added, and Elizabeth gave a silent nod.
“Everyone sometimes attends gatherings they find disagreeable, Lizzy,” Mrs Gardiner said.
“My dearest friend, Esther, has a family I find insufferable. Her father-in-law is impertinent, and her mother has the manners of a servant. Stop imagining an ideal world populated by flawless individuals. You are not without faults, Jane is not without faults…none of us are without imperfections. Accept theirs, and they will accept yours.”
Elizabeth sighed again, lost in thought as she contemplated her aunt’s words.
She returned to the present when a chorus of joyful voices surrounded her.
Lady Oakham and Miss Darcy met them with broad smiles, relishing their introduction to the Gardiners’ children, who quickly departed with their nanny to drink the waters.
“You have charming children,” Miss Darcy remarked, speaking to Mr and Mrs Gardiner, then turned to Mary, inviting her to enter the Pump Room.
Elizabeth looked at them in surprise, expecting Miss Darcy to accompany her instead.
Yet Lady Oakham’s intentions became apparent when Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy approached.
Before she realised what had unfolded, the colonel vanished with her uncle, and Lady Oakham took Mrs Gardiner by the arm, leaving her facing a smiling Mr Darcy.
Their aunts’ manoeuvrings had been so transparent that they had failed to deceive either of them.
“Oh!” Elizabeth exclaimed gloomily. Only a second earlier, her heart had been full of joy at meeting him.
Still, seeing everybody disappearing around them, she feared that he might recall specific unpleasant schemes in Hertfordshire involving her mother.
But Mr Darcy’s smile was only amused, devoid of any trace of anger.
“You appear rather disconcerted, Miss Elizabeth,” he remarked.
“I am. We are now alone, having been in the midst of a crowd mere seconds ago.”
“Yes, the ladies of my family delight in organising events to suit their own ends. We are powerless in the face of Lady Oakham’s designs. But why were you wearing that expression earlier?”
Elizabeth realised that he must have observed her long before their encounter, and she remembered her conversation with her aunt.
“My aunt was scolding me,” she confessed with a joyous transformation of her mood, nearly beyond her control.
“Oh, I was unaware that anyone in the world dares to chastise you,” he remarked, and she glanced at him from beneath her parasol to see his face. Yet, he continued to wear a smile.
“It seems I have quite a notorious reputation.”
“You are not alone in that regard,” he replied, and she struggled not to meet his gaze.
“What does that signify, Mr Darcy? That we are both disagreeable individuals?”
“Disagreeable? I hope not. Perhaps ‘difficult’ is a word that might describe us. But I am curious why your aunt chastised you.”
“Because it seems I am rather prejudiced, or so she believes.”
“While I, on the other hand, was accused of excessive pride,” he remarked, and they both paused in their walking, exchanging an amused glance. “And look at us, such fine and pleasant people we have turned out to be!”
“And we agree on such crucial matters!” Elizabeth responded, finally letting her joy show, filling her eyes with a charming light, and enveloping her beautiful face in a mist of pleasure.
“Do you want to follow our families and drink the healing waters?” he asked, gesturing towards the lines where people waited for the water.
“No,” she replied, her disgust apparent, which he observed immediately.
“Good,” he said. “I also loathe this peculiar custom.” She smiled, and he continued, “Do you know Bath?”
“No. I visited ten years ago, but I cannot pretend to know it well. I was obliged to drink the water—perhaps that left me with a dreadful memory.”
“Something to bear in mind for the future. I shall never compel my children to participate in that particular ritual.”
“Oh, but it may not be so simple. Their mother could insist.”
“Then I shall choose a lady who declares her aversion to the waters of Bath before the vicar.”
And although she smiled at his words, Elizabeth’s heart raced, its rhythm impossible to restrain.
She hoped he did not perceive her inner turmoil.
For a moment, her body responded in a manner both inexplicable yet strangely pleasing to the thought of one day declaring before the vicar that she would spare their children from such a ritual.
She tried, without success, to convince herself that this was merely a casual conversation between friends and that his words might not have been meant for her. Yet nothing could still the quiet hope that he had forgiven her—a hope that lingered in her heart, poised to bloom.
“You have grown suddenly silent, Miss Elizabeth,” he observed.
“I noticed that we have left the Pump Room. We ought to wait for our families to rejoin us.”
“Miss Elizabeth, this is not our first walk alone.”
“No, but we were not upon such a busy street during our previous meetings.”
“Are you suggesting, then, that it is proper for a young lady and a gentleman to be alone only when no one is watching?” he asked, his tone marked more by curiosity than reproach—a manner Elizabeth found wholly agreeable.
Once again, he was the man with whom she had shared spirited conversations in the library or drawing-room at Netherfield or, as he had reminded her, while walking near Meryton.
“I believe certain rules are meant to be broken,” she replied with a lightness of spirit, allowing herself to remain in the moment.
It was a beautiful, warm day in June, and Bath gleamed under the clear sky. She walked alongside Mr Darcy as if nothing terrible had occurred between them.
She mused that he wanted them to be friends, which was preferable to the animosity that had characterised their meeting at the Parsonage. It was not exactly what she wanted, but she understood that, for the time being, it was all that could be expected of their relationship.
“How many rules does Miss Elizabeth break?” he asked, rousing her from her daydream and giving her his arm, which she took without any further thought about decorum.
“Unfortunately, a woman cannot flout all the rules. Her reputation hinges on many of them. And even though I possess a penchant for rebellion, I cannot disregard the grim and perilous reality surrounding me. You must admit that strolling through a town should not be considered a crime, yet it may yield unpleasant consequences…for me, not you.”
“Yes, I agree. It is unjust. Nevertheless, Bath imposes fewer restrictions. You can stroll with me on this fine day—no one will care or take offence. But I assure you, our families will find us once they conclude their visit to the Pump Room. There are not many places for leisurely walks, even though Bath has undergone considerable changes in the years since your last visit. Many of my friends have bought homes here,” he said, indicating a few fine residences and naming their owners.
“And the balls here are renowned for their numerous guests.”
“Not that you like those,” she remarked, to which he burst into laughter. He took her hand, placing his lips on it for a fleeting moment and making her heart jump from her chest.
“I thought the lady I knew in Hertfordshire had vanished, replaced by a compliant woman ready to adhere to all the rules of politeness.”
Trying hard to compose herself, Elizabeth hesitated for a moment.
If she considered making a similar observation about the man she had met in Kent, who had been far from the proud gentlemen she had known in Hertfordshire, for the first time in her life, she exercised caution and chose silence instead.
“I am here, walking with you alone…I would not say that I have changed.”
“I told you that, in Bath, such matters hold less importance. I wish to witness your courage in other circumstances.”
“It is not a matter of courage, Mr Darcy. It is more about reflecting on the consequences of my actions and deciding whether they are worth pursuing or result only in loss…for me. Do not forget I am a lady.”
“I can hardly do that,” he said and laughed, but then he continued in haste as if he wanted to erase his last words, “Do you approach all situations with such deliberation?”
Elizabeth had the acute feeling that they were entering dangerous territory and had to proceed with caution.