Darcy failed to make his proposals to Elizabeth during the first day after his conversation with Hartley.
In the morning, he had opportunities to speak privately with Elizabeth, but the moment never seemed propitious. Perhaps fear held him back.
The afternoon was too busy. First, the interviews with the solicitor, and then the eager discussions and speculations about the information the Collinses had brought.
Elizabeth was the certain possessor of an even greater fortune than the probable one that he had supposed to be hers the day before.
It made Darcy feel an echo of that same guilt, but at least there was no uncertainty: He wished to believe that he would have eventually asked her to marry him if he had not known her birth; he was certain he would have asked if her fortune was merely an uncertain forty thousand.
Not very long after breakfast a decent crowd of Bingley’s neighbors descended upon his house for the promised food and entertainment. The long tables with food were set up and laden with good things, the lawn had been arranged for bowls, and areas paced out and marked for shuttlecock and races. Under Jane’s direction a set of targets had been set aside for archery, and under the guidance of Netherfield’s game warden a range had been set up for shooting.
Everyone, of course, spoke about the astonishing turn in Lady Elizabeth’s fortune. Everyone, of course, scrupulously used the “Lady” before “Elizabeth”, as they exclaimed in shock, “Fifty thousand pounds!”
It was too much like what happened to Darcy when he entered a new neighborhood.
Elizabeth appeared to take this vast increase in deference and attention easily and with grace. She always kept at least one person who she was close to nearby. But otherwise, Elizabeth cheerfully talked with everyone, was always polite, and always condescended to make concerned murmurings about servant troubles, sick children, the dearness of every article of civilized life. Likewise, she always made polite statements of congratulation about prize horses, prize hounds, and prize guns.
Elizabeth spoke in a way that created a clear distance between herself and people who had never cared a whit for her when she had been nothing. This was especially the case with the gentlemen who now crowded about. John Lucas, Thomas Goulding, and Frank Henry. The three men who Darcy had understood were the most eligible resident bachelors, and they all wished to impress her.
Elizabeth was clearly unimpressed, and, from how her smile became thinner overtime as those stood about her, cheerfully arguing with each other about which of them was the most impressive, she was becoming a little uncomfortable.
In hopes of sending them off Darcy adopted his haughtiest glare and stood nearer Elizabeth in a proprietary manner. This sent off Mr. Goulding and Mr. Henry. Mr. Lucas, however, was made of sterner stuff, or possibly he only was too familiar with Elizabeth from the close association of the Lucas family with the Bennets.
When the contests started, Darcy took Elizabeth’s arm and asked if she wished to try the bow and arrow. With a half wave at Mr. Lucas that was barely polite, they walked off.
Jane was very happy to spend twenty minutes letting Elizabeth practice with the bow and arrow, but after that little time she could only consistently hit the pile of hay bales that the target sat on. The bull’s eye was still a distant dream.
“And I imagined that in twenty minutes I would gain real proficiency,” Elizabeth said laughing and handing the bow to the next lady in line. “I give up the quest for today, but do not worry, I liked this enough to play at it a little more. Next time I will hit the outer ring one shot out of two, I promise.”
Then Elizabeth wandered over to where a range had been set up for shooting, with pieces of wax for the gentlemen to put in their ears to protect them. She watched with more interest than she had shown for the bow and arrow.
Then after the group of gentlemen who had come around to test their aim against each other had finished the first round of shooting, a queer expression went over Elizabeth’s face. She shrugged, and walked over to Bingley’s game warden, who was managing the whole line of the contest and asked for him to load a piece for her to take a turn at the shooting.
“Fine idea, Miss Lizzy,” the warden said approving. “Need to keep in practice. Might see your father again, that Lord Rochester, would not want to miss again .”
Elizabeth laughed, took the gun, stood behind the bale of hay that signified the firing line, carefully aimed, and hit very close to the center point of the target.
When the warden went down the line and announced that she’d hit the exact center of the target the other gentlemen cheered.
While one part of the story about Elizabeth was that she was now Lady Elizabeth, and a considerable heiress, the other part was that she had put her talent with the gun to real use.
In the end she came second in the contest out of the twelve gentlemen who took part in it, having scored slightly more points than Darcy himself who came in third, and far fewer than Mr. King, who showed really excellent shooting, and had the manner of a man for whom this was his favorite form of sport.
Bingley handed Mr. King a particularly fine bottle of cognac as his prize. “The real thing. A very good distillation. An excellent fellow I know smuggled it direct from France.”
But as the afternoon wore on, Darcy found the noise and constant conversation wearing. His eyes mostly followed Elizabeth, and he could not keep from imagining her superintending over a great picnic at Pemberley. She would be exquisite in such a role.
At one point she went into the manor house with Mary, laughing and smiling with the other girl. Darcy wandered over to sit next to Mr. Bennet who sat on a reclined wicker chair shaded by an umbrella.
A copy of Ceasar’s commentaries, in Latin, was open before him.
Darcy sat in a chair next to him. “Do you have another book with you?”
Mr. Bennet laughed. “Reading? At a party?”
“I confess the whole is wearing.”
“Fine shooting from Lizzy. I’m proud of her, for simply entering the contest,” Mr. Bennet replied.
“I am as well.”
This of course brought Mr. Bennet to look at him with a knowing smile. For half a minute Darcy expected that Mr. Bennet would now also question him about his intentions towards Elizabeth, but instead the gentleman just handed him his book and leaned back on the chair. “Can you still follow the Latin?”
“Well enough, and the practice is good.”
“Feel free to ask Lizzy or myself if you’ve forgotten any words. But you strike me as one who likely learned the language properly.”
“I hope so.” Darcy paused. “Do you know, I suggested to her once that she become a teacher of Greek and Latin at a girl’s school connected to my family.”
Mr. Bennet studied him. He then nodded and smiled. “She must have been delighted by the suggestion.”
“She was. But she feared it was impossible. When I inquired why, she went so far to confess to me that she could not take it, as she was illegitimate,” Darcy replied dryly.
“But that is not a sound reason.” Mr. Bennet laughed. “It has nothing to do with the matter. I hope you told her so much.”
“I did,” Darcy replied. “She insisted that she would never enter an advantageous position if all persons involved were not aware of the matter of her birth. I respected her enormously for that sort of integrity, even though I thought it perhaps a little...”
“That is very like Lizzy. Poor girl. I wish I had known that is what she imagined all these years. I still cannot determine if I should have told her more of the true situation or not.”
“I think the chief point is that you gave the matter a great deal of thought, and that your choices were reasonable.”
“It is always like that.” Mr. Bennet replied, “With any child. You never know what will hurt them in ten years or be to their benefit. After many years of sleepless nights, I gave up seeking to shape their personality as a bad business.”
“Did you have—” Darcy paused. Even asking the question might be rather impertinent. However, he wished to know, and if Mr. Bennet was offended, it would only make him think less of the gentleman. “Was there a scheme in your mind for Elizabeth’s future if there proved to be substantial difficulties in her claiming her fortune?”
Mr. Bennet glanced around, looking to see if anyone sat close enough to hear them. Then he smiled. “I must first bind you to a not particularly solemn oath of secrecy.”
“I do not know if I approve of secrets.”
“I love them,” Mr. Bennet replied. “About half a year after Elizabeth came to us, when I had come to consider her properly as a daughter, I started setting something aside, just in case. At first, I only wished to ensure there would be the funds in the case of an expensive process of litigation, but I kept on afterwards. I began with small economies—resisting the urge to buy an early folio of Shakespeare, or only subscribing to two or three periodicals, instead of ten. Only keeping three manservants instead of five. Ensuring that the horses were available more often for the farm. The dear price of wheat also brought rents up substantially, and I did not increase our mode of living. There are more than five thousand pounds set aside that Mrs. Bennet knows nothing about. I intended that if Elizabeth’s fortune could not be recovered, that she would receive a substantial portion of that to live on—though it would be nothing to what she ought to have had. And if it was not needed for her, I would add it to the dowries of the other daughters. Which I shall announce that I have done, as soon as any appropriate fellow appears for Lydia or Kitty.”
This secret took Darcy greatly by surprise. “I confess that I approve of your prudence. Though I do not think I would ever hide such a thing from my wife.”
“You certainly should not. She might shoot you.”
Darcy flushed at this hint that the said wife would be Elizabeth.
“Do not imitate my ways of being. Should you ever find yourself to be heartbroken—I do not think this likely, but one never knows—do not marry a very pretty girl who you are fond of, but not in love with, and whose mind and temper you have no reason to be confident in.”
“You did love Elizabeth’s mother?”
“Very much so. But who knows. Perhaps if we had married, we would have disappointed each other in various ways —but...Lizzy is very much like she was. I think that is part of why I became so attached to her at first. It was like I was raising our daughter. But long since I ceased to think anything of that. Though part of why Lizzy’s education was so eccentric is that I wished to raise her exactly to my own taste, and Mrs. Bennet certainly did not interfere. I wished her to not be what I imagined the proper daughter of an earl would be. You cannot imagine my disappointment when I learned that Lord Rochester was delighted that I’d taught her to shoot.”
Darcy could not help but smile at that.
Then Elizabeth walked up to them. “Papa, trying to make Mr. Darcy read a book?”
“I believe he likes the practice—but you two off. Go walk about. Frolic. Be young. Give me that back. I am near my favorite part, when Caesar builds the walls of contravallation around Alesia.”
Elizabeth and Darcy wandered off into the park. The crowd of guests were thin here, as those who were not planning to stay until the dancing after dinner were leaving.
The two of them did not precisely avoid the other guests, but they did walk about in such a way that anything they might say to each other was absolutely private. They strolled around the massive green lawn, with the artfully placed oak trees all around, and the well-manicured gravel pathways circling.
“I liked seeing you speak happily to Papa,” Elizabeth said.
Darcy quirked a smile. “I like him, though I cannot approve of him in every particular.”
“That is not what I expected you to say.”
Darcy took her arm. “He enjoys his jokes, and he shall pursue them to an extent that is surprising.”
“Ah. That. Yes.” Elizabeth laughed. “I dare say he does. Which one did he tell you about?”
“I am under a not particularly solemn oath of secrecy.”
This brought more laughter from Elizabeth.
“You,” Darcy said to her, “have a remarkable ability to act as the gracious great lady without more than a few days of being told that you must inhabit the part. I am impressed.”
Elizabeth flushed. “I hope I do not seem too high handed, or haughty. I do feel as though I am adopting a role. Like I always do. That seems to be something which knowing the truth of my circumstances has not changed. Yet there are parts of the role that I enjoy very much—at this moment the right, and even the expectation to be eccentric and draw notice.”
“Fine shooting, with some practice you may one day be able to edge out Mr. King.”
Elizabeth laughed. “No, no. I would not wish to practice at my aim nearly so much as he does. And he has a natural feel and eye for it. It shall satisfy me if I am only known as the second best shot in the neighborhood—I almost wish it was difficult. That it was not so easy to determine on a role and play it.”
“If you wish, you might participate in theatricals.”
“I wish to go to London,” Elizabeth replied, “and watch a great many plays.”
“Then you shall.”
They smiled at each other.
Another stroll under a shaded grove. The sun was bright and hot, but the beauty all about was clear. Despite the building being less than fifty years old, Netherfield had a great deal of the picturesque.
“The integrity and goodness of your character is too deep seated for external circumstances to change it.” Darcy said to her, “You always have been a woman well worth knowing, and well worth admiring. You were as truly admirable when you believed yourself to be poor and a natural child.”
Her face went very pink. She smiled at him, boldly meeting his eyes, but then looked to the side and down.
A thrill went through Darcy. He should ask her now.
Darcy’s mouth was dry. He swallowed and with a sharp swooping feeling in his stomach began to say, “I think, Elizabeth—”
At the very same time she began to speak. “I would not wish to always be—”
They laughed together.
This time she did not look down. His stomach felt completely odd. Her fingers were thin and elegant. Her curls fell over her cheeks. The blue silk bonnet, with a fringe of lace framing her face. Darcy felt lightheaded. He needed to speak.
“Elizabeth, I have been a fool.”
At that opening, and the pause after it, Elizabeth laughed. “Once more, not what I expected you to say.”
She was wholly delightful. Her laughter always made him happy when he heard it.
“Let me finish. I wish, I very much wish that I had asked you to marry me when I did not know about your birth and fortune. When I realized in Lady Catherine’s drawing room the truth of your parentage, I was filled with a sharp pang of unhappiness, because in that moment I knew that I wished to marry you, for your own sake, but I thought I could not now, because I had proven myself unworthy.”
She was smiling at him in a warm and dazzling way. It was hard to think when she looked in his eyes like that. “I see, I see your difficulty, Mr. Darcy. That is very like you to feel compunctions on such a ground. I shall note, however, that until this minute the thought that I should judge you for such a cause had never occurred to me. But how you might come to judge yourself for it is not a difficult matter to parse.”
“You are teasing me.” He smiled happily back at her. Her whole manner was encouraging. “I told Hartley that you would make a joke of it.”
Elizabeth laughed. “What does dear Bobby have to do with the matter?”
“He inquired about my intentions towards his innocent little sister.”
More laughter from Elizabeth. “Ah, I see. And you then explained to him the chief source of your difficulty. That is that it is impossible for you to ask me to marry you, as you are unworthy. And did my brother offer a solution to this difficult conundrum?”
“He agreed that he thought I made an excellent case for my unworthiness,” Darcy replied in a like tone, “But he suggested that I leave you to be the final judge. He wished me luck in convincing you that I am unworthy but feared that I might fail.”
“And now you are teasing me,” Elizabeth said laughing. “But it is a serious matter. I have a solution though. I began my career as ‘Lady Elizabeth’ in a most eccentric manner. So, I shall continue in a like mode. Since you cannot ask me to marry you, I must do the honors. Mr. Darcy, would you do the honor of making me the happiest of women, combining our great fortunes, continuing the Darcy tradition of wedding the daughter of an earl, disappointing your aunt, Lady Catherine, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.”
Darcy took her hand and placed his other palm on her cheek. Her eyes shined up at him. “Etcetera, etcetera?”
“It covers all of the ordinary things said in such a speech...” she trailed off at the way he looked into her eyes. Perhaps he affected her half as much as she affected him. “You cannot expect me,” she added primly, “to make such a speech as Mr. Collins would.”
Darcy kissed her, not minding at all that there was at least one person likely able to see them.