Page 14

“I am afraid I interrupt,” Mary asked, looking wide-eyed between Elizabeth and Darcy.

“You certainly do,” Elizabeth replied with a smile; “but it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome.”

“In fact, it is timely,” Darcy said softly. “I believe I have stunned Miss Elizabeth into silence.”

“And you know what an unnatural state that is,” Elizabeth said with a nervous chuckle.

Mary looked back and forth between the couple, while they looked at her, at the ground, at the tree, at the house, (at anything, really) except each other.

“Is this shocking discourse something I should hear, or shall I leave you to it?” Mary asked quietly.

The sun had quietly gone down during their ramble, and twilight was leaving them a half-hour at best before full dark.

“Pray remain,” Elizabeth said bluntly, then took a deep breath. “Mr Darcy has asked to court me.”

Mary froze for quite some time, the cold entirely forgotten, her face scrunched in deep thought. She finally whispered, “That explains a great deal.”

Elizabeth seemed surprised Mary did not ask how she answered, while Darcy seemed happy to have a distraction to allow Elizabeth to get over the entirely reasonable upheaval of his request.

“Explains what?” Elizabeth asked.

“Everything… just… everything!” Mary replied, and when she saw the look of confusion on Elizabeth’s face, she added, “If you have no objections, I shall clarify.”

“No objections whatsoever,” Darcy said. He seemed perplexed by the way the discussion was proceeding, but nothing about the day had been ordinary anyway.

“You remember when you played at Lucas Lodge and Sir William tried to goad you into dancing with Mr Darcy?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said with a frown.

Darcy chuckled. “Tried is the operative word. I did ask but your sister was steadfast in her refusal… quite stubborn about it, as I recall.”

Elizabeth scoffed. “As if you really wanted to dance! I saved us both from Sir William’s machinations.”

“Perhaps not,” Mary said before it could degenerate into an argument.

“What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Mary turned to Darcy. “I shall answer your questions with another that will make everything clear.”

“All right,” Elizabeth said sceptically, while Darcy nodded in silent agreement.

“At Lucas Lodge, what exactly did you say to Miss Bingley to make her face look like she swallowed a wasp?”

Darcy startled, looked thoughtful, then smiled in recognition. “Shall I repeat it verbatim?”

“I expect no less.”

Darcy pinched his nose to raise his voice to a squeak.

“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner-in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise-the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”

He lowered his voice to a deep rumble, to show he was emulating himself.

“Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.”

Returning to his normal voice, he continued gently.

“She naturally asked me to be more explicit about who owned the aforementioned fine eyes, and I replied: Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

Elizabeth stared in utter confusion though Mary looked far less surprised.

“I neglected to mention your fine singing voice, light and pleasing figure, or intelligent conversation; but I suspect she got the gist from the key words: on the face of a pretty woman. I believe that was the moment her dislike of you turned to hatred, although she spent the next twenty minutes teasing me about my future mother-in-law and how often she would be at Pemberley.”

Elizabeth scrunched her forehead in confusion. “Light and pleasing figure? Pretty woman?”

“You must see it, Lizzy. Even your legendary stubbornness will succumb to the observation that Mr Darcy’s attraction to you is not the work of a moment.

Charlotte noticed him staring and listening to your conversations clear back then…

barely a fortnight into their visit. She mentioned it to me occasionally, and I have been equally confused by the same observations… right until this moment.”

Finding speculation unhelpful, Elizabeth stared at Darcy and asked bluntly, “Is this true?”

“It is! My admiration is not the work of a day, and it is stronger than I earlier implied. I cannot say whether I would have acted on it or not, but the admiration was there.”

“Why minimise it when you asked to call on me?”

He chuckled. “I was already taking my life in my own hands with my precipitousness. I did not want to press my luck—not to mention Miss Mary’s sudden appearance right in the middle of the conversation.”

“Yes, I can see that. You have had quite a few difficult speeches the past six hours.”

“That I have!”

“How did it start… if I may be so bold as to ask?” Elizabeth asked gently. “To be clear, I am not rejecting you—but you must admit that the transition from not handsome enough to dance with, to handsome enough to marry, is a bit much for half a day’s friendship.”

“That is both understandable and fair,” he said pensively, then tried his own luck at remembering, before finally working on an answer.

“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

“Sly things, these feelings,” Mary said with a laugh that Elizabeth very much appreciated. Things were far too serious for her liking, but she did not want to spoil the mood with teasing, which could so easily be misinterpreted.

“That they are, Miss Mary… that they are. I have admitted that my first impressions of the neighbourhood were little better than your first impressions of me—with the obvious difference that your estimations were correct, while mine were prideful nonsense.”

“Do not overdo it. We have forgiven you, so self-flagellation is unnecessary and self-defeating,” Elizabeth said gently.

He laughed. “You are unique—the very first person in the history of England to recommend less humility for a Darcy man.”

Mary laughed uproariously, while Elizabeth simply smiled. Eventually, both ladies averaged their reactions to a quiet giggle (or chuckle since they universally associated giggling with Lydia and Kitty).

Darcy chuckled softly himself. “I suppose that night in Lucas Lodge could serve as a beginning. I started listening to your conversations…”

“You know eavesdroppers never hear any good of themselves,” Mary said with a laugh.

They all joined, and the tension all three had been feeling was relieved a bit.

The fact that something very much like a proposal was being handled with three people in the dead garden in twilight of a cold November afternoon, and that it was triggered by multiple bouts of eavesdropping, gave all three an appreciation for how unconventional the situation was.

Darcy laughed, “I suppose if I had listened often enough back then I might have learnt of my folly sooner—but back to the point.”

“By all means,” Elizabeth said, feeling less nervous as time went on.

“My admiration made a big leap at Netherfield when you and your sister very politely and with great propriety flayed us alive with our own words.”

“That is far from expected.”

“To be honest, by that time I had almost forgotten what I said at the assembly. I did not remember it until after you and Miss Bennet left the yard.”

“You are not doing your suit any favours with that statement.”

“I know, but the time for prevarication and dishonesty is long past.”

Elizabeth nodded but did not feel the need to beat the point into the ground.

“The feeling of admiration had been sneaking up on me for some time, but I did not fully realise it until I saw you helping your sister… ah… halfway to Longbourn.”

Lizzy appreciated his delicacy, but she was not so fastidious. She told Mary with a grimace, “Jane was being sick over the side of Nellie. It was not our finest moment.”

Darcy said gently, “To the contrary, I believe it was. It showed me the type of women you are. I noticed—far later than I should—that you were supporting each other against all obstacles. I do not know, but I can easily imagine how uncomfortable it is to get on a horse without a saddle or habit, riding astride, on a cold November day, in front of two so-called-gentlemen who had shown you nothing but ill manners, after barely escaping a madhouse—and yet, you did it without qualms.”

“I suppose so,” Elizabeth said reluctantly. “My choices were limited.”

“That is not all I saw in my epiphany. I believe, in that moment, I got a look at both sisters’ characters and wished to have some of that in my life.

I suspect that if Miss Bingley disparaged anyone but you, Miss Bennet would not have been so fierce, as it is not in her nature—but she defends you like a lion with her cubs.

Contrarily, I suspect if you had found your sister asleep for an hour, you might never have told her what you overheard and would have born the bad manners in silence for her sake.

You are both more protective of the other than yourselves.

In addition to all that, I would bet a year’s income that Mrs Bennet blamed you for abandoning the field early and continues to do so to this day.

She is careful to hold her tongue around me, but I doubt she is so circumspect in my absence. ”

“He has you there,” Mary observed.

Elizabeth sighed. “I suppose we will never know. If nothing else, it allows me a window into your thinking, which is somewhat opaque.”

Mary agreed readily, then laughed. “I believe Shakespeare said music is the food of love, but he has it all wrong.”

“Do tell,” Elizabeth said.