Page 28 of Ever After End

CHAPTER 27

G racechurch Street,

London

12 June, 1812

Lizzy!

Uncle returned to us two days ago, tanned and in great spirits after his time by your host’s river. My aunt says you spoil him, but I know that she is happy for him that he had time to enjoy some fishing while he was from town. He brought Kitty with him, having stopped for her in Meryton before returning to London, as planned. My aunt has all manner of outings arranged for us, though it is more exciting for Kitty than me. I have been in the city these three months, and have seen a great deal already, but Kitty has seen nothing. I am ever so much more sophisticated than she after my time here. Ha!

We are to go to the theatre tonight, and the gown my aunt had made for me as a gift at her modiste is divine. Kitty’s is nothing to it, though she loves hers anyway, for it is not white. I will allow that she looks very well in it, do you not agree it is a good colour for her? I sent sketches of both of our gowns, and I coloured them with watercolours. You must write back with your agreement that my gown is finer.

My friend from school has invited me to stay with her family in London for the Christmas holidays. Aunt Gardiner is to call upon her home with me and Kitty next week to determine if they are trustworthy, and they and Mama will decide if I am to go. Lizzy, please write to my aunt and tell her that I simply must be permitted to visit Miss Brockway. I shall die of embarrassment if I am not permitted to go.

Are you married yet?

Yours,

Lydia

A week later, Elizabeth felt no closer to meeting her future partner than before. Mr Brentwood had moved on after Elizabeth rebuffed him gently. He was now showing attention to Miss Abernathy and Miss Penfield. Miss Penfield was also receiving attention from Mr Fletcher, who seemed to be a good match for her, though it was quite obvious that she was his second choice to Jane, upon whom he had not given up. Elizabeth hoped Miss Abernathy would not accept Mr Brentwood, for a better recipe for a union like that of Elizabeth’s parents she had never encountered.

Mr Cartwright was still following her about assiduously. Elizabeth wished she knew what it was about her that interested him. She attempted to make him understand that her interest in steam engines had long since waned, and that if she had her way, she would learn no more about them as long as she lived. The man was oblivious, and refused to take the hint.

Mr Whittaker had shown her some interest, once he had given up on Jane. Elizabeth liked him well enough, and she found his conversation engaging, but she did not believe that a match was in the making. Men, it seemed, took far longer to be dissuaded from their enthusiastic first impressions, so he followed her about in an effort to impress her with descriptions of his library and the park around his home .

Elizabeth smiled at her younger sister as they were handed into her carriage by Mr Elwood, who had taken an interest in Mary after she expressed an interest in his charitable efforts. Mary, ever pious, had shown great enthusiasm for his work with London’s parish schools, as well as his endeavours with wounded officers returning from war, and orphanages. Mary also continued to receive notice from Colonel Gordon, though Captain Lytton had abandoned her to pay court to both Miss Crawford and Miss Bingley, who Elizabeth could tell preferred the attentions of Lord Chesley.

The company was on their way to Glastonbury Abbey, for a tour guided by Mr Wifflethorpe, whose expertise lay in the legends of the place. The Darcys and Mr Bingley were to accompany them; Mr Bingley unable to spend an afternoon away from Jane, and Miss Darcy wishing to see the ruins with her friend. With the carriages of the men added to the conveyances, the journey was exceedingly comfortable.

When they arrived, Elizabeth took the arm of Mr Whittaker and smiled as Mr Bingley handed Jane out of his carriage and tucked her hand in his arm with a brilliant smile. Jane blushed with pleasure, and Elizabeth prayed that her sister might finally have met her match, even if he had not been intended for the guests.

Elizabeth observed Mr Darcy scowl at her elder sister and his friend as he assisted his godmother, sister, and his sister’s friend from his carriage. Mr Darcy had joined her on her walks two more times since he had arrived at Ever After End, though Elizabeth had not yet determined what his objection was to his friend and her sister forming an attachment.

Each time they encountered one another, he was quick to dismount and offer her his arm, though his conversation was awkward and halting. She determined that the man was not above his company, but only excessively shy. Once she endeavoured to find a subject that he was comfortable with – such as his home, his tenants, and books, their conversations were engaging and enjoyable. He still watched his sister and her interactions with the other ladies closely, though he avoided conversation with his godmother’s guests assiduously when he was in the house. She saw him observing her often, and wondered what he meant by it, although she lacked the courage to ask him.

Elizabeth was rather mortified about it, for she and all the others had been warned away from the man by Mrs Darlington, but she was well on her way to admiring him in earnest. Elizabeth was a slight, petite woman, and had never been attracted to such a tall man before, but his looks and his form were very much to her taste, and his devotion to his sister and godmother was endearing. She learned that he had lost his parents and took responsibility for all his concerns at a young age. It was easy to understand his resulting reserve and seriousness, though she was determined to overcome her admiration. He was not for her.

“Welcome, my friends, to a place where history hums beneath your feet, and legends whisper through the very air you breathe. This is Glastonbury Abbey – no mere collection of ruins – but a sanctuary where myth and truth entwine, echoing across centuries!” Mr Ignatius Wifflethorpe exclaimed loudly as he led the group to the ruins.

“This is the highlight of Mr Wifflethorpe’s year, my dear,” Mrs Darlington said to Miss Darcy as that lady meandered behind on the arm of her godson. Georgiana and Miss Bates nodded and followed their guide attentively.

“Here, beneath these weathered arches, stood one of the greatest monasteries in all of England!” Mr Wifflethorpe continued. “Imagine the solemn footsteps of monks tracing paths each day through these cloisters, their chants rising like mist over Somerset. Picture pilgrims arriving in droves, seeking solace, healing, and perhaps… a glimpse of something greater!”

Mr Darcy watched quietly as Miss Elizabeth Bennet listened attentively to their guide, who proceeded to edify his audience. “But Glastonbury is more than stone and mortar. It’s a living, breathing story,” Mr Wifflethorpe went on. “They say Joseph of Arimathea, bearer of the Holy Grail, planted his staff upon Wearyall Hill – and there it blossomed into the sacred Glastonbury Thorn. Can you feel the weight of that legend pressing down upon this land?

“And of course, the great King Arthur himself is said to rest here. In 1191, monks uncovered what they believed to be the tomb of Arthur and Guinevere, nestled in this very ground. Was it truly the Once and Future King, or was it the Abbey’s bid to draw the gaze of the world? No matter. The power of the tale lingers, as if Arthur’s spirit refuses to fade, waiting – always waiting – for a time when he is needed once more.”

There were murmurs of appreciation as the members of their party broke up to tour the ruins in smaller groups. Mr Bingley and Jane were in the company of Mary and Mr Elwood. Mr Whittaker escorted Elizabeth, though she longed to be in the company of her sisters or perhaps Miss Crawford and Miss Bertram, who were a great deal of fun, even if one must listen to more of Mr Mercer than one liked when accompanying them.

“The atmospheric conditions are most agreeable this morning, Miss Elizabeth,” The reserved man attempted haltingly. “Though one cannot put too much belief in the predictions of that ridiculous swan, I believe we can indeed set faith in the likelihood of continued fair skies.”

Elizabeth smiled politely. “Indeed, one could hardly ask for finer weather.”

Mr Whittaker seemed to struggle for another topic, and tried again. “I recently undertook a study of Dr Johnson’s Dictionary, Miss Elizabeth. His definitions are most enlightening, particularly his entry on the word: lexicographer. Are you fond of lexicons?”

“I have used the dictionary my share of times, but I cannot claim that I sit down to study it,” Elizabeth confessed. “Although I have seen my father read the dictionary for pleasure.”

“I knew your father must be a scholar, Miss Elizabeth, for only a scholar could have nurtured such a quick mind as yours.” Elizabeth had impressed Mr Whittaker some nights before during a game of wordplay, and he had been testing her education and knowledge ever since. Elizabeth found it tiresome. She too, wished for an intelligent mate, but one must avoid outright quizzing the knowledge of one’s suitors.

Happily, Mr Brentwood chose just that moment to pass by with Miss Penfield, and Elizabeth said loudly, “Mr Brentwood was just discussing Dr Johnson yesterday, I believe. Mr Brentwood, are you fond of lexicons?”

“Of course,” answered Mr Brentwood seriously. “There is much satisfaction to be found in the precision of words. One might argue that the crafting of a sentence mirrors the artistry of embroidery, though naturally with less immediate application to household management.”

“Have I told you that I possess in my library a copy of the original Latin-English Word Book by Sir Thomas Elyot?” said Mr Whittaker in a superior manner.

“Have you?” exclaimed Mr Brentwood in excitement. “I once had the good fortune to hold the later version by Richard Mulcaster!”

“I owe you for that.” Miss Penfield smiled at Elizabeth as they left the two men debating the merits of two word books published in the sixteenth century. “Everyone thinks that because I was a governess, that I must be a bluestocking.”

“I take it that a scholar is not to your taste, then.” Elizabeth returned the woman’s smile as they walked. “What sort of man are you looking for?”

“A serious one, if I can manage it.” Miss Penfield rolled her eyes. “A scholar will bore you to death about the same few topics forever; whatever subjects interest him . I should rather eat mud than listen to a man’s views on the downfall of the Roman empire until I die.”

“I always thought a scholar might suit me, and then when I arrived, I learned how similar they all seem to be to my father, who is only serious about matters that interest him,” Elizabeth acknowledged.

“Precisely!” Miss Penfield insisted. “They are serious about their books. I wish for a husband who is serious about his duty.”

“I cannot argue with you,” Elizabeth agreed. “Although, I also hope that my husband, whoever he is, will be intelligent, and enjoy his books to an acceptable degree once his duties are fulfilled.”

“I could not care less what the man’s interests are. He can collect butterflies, or study botany for all I care, as long as the man understands his duty and puts it above all else!” Miss Penfield continued. “I wish for a genteel husband, but I have had enough with lackadaisical masters and their frivolous sons. I even lost a position, because one family was so bad about neglecting their duties, they could not afford me anymore. The gentleman ignored his estate and his wife in favour of his books for too long. These scholars can often be as dangerous to their families’ fortunes as gamblers. What does it matter if you are clever if you will not apply it to your duty?”

“I think you are right,” Elizabeth said. “My father could have added to our dowries if he would only have applied himself more to the estate. He could have set something by for our mother, or built her a dower house. Instead he sat and read books, my whole life. What he did not lose on cards, he spent on books.”

“Well I have no idea if I will be mistress of an estate or not once I am married, but landed or not, I wish for a man serious enough to take his duty to heart,” Miss Penfield said decidedly. The ladies parted, and Miss Penfield hurried towards Mr Fletcher, who was standing alone watching them.

I do hope Mr Fletcher is serious enough for her , Elizabeth thought as she pressed on, listening to the murmurs of the groups examining the ruins around her. I find him far too serious for my taste.

She had seated herself some distance from the abbey and was creating a memory of it in her mind when Mr Darcy approached her. “Do you enjoy the view, Miss Elizabeth?”

“I find it charming.” she smiled at him sincerely. “As I always do when I travel, I am wishing that I drew, for then I could sketch a picture to take home with me as a keepsake. Sadly, though I did persevere for some years in my youth, I have not the talent. ”

“Your sisters do not draw?” he asked in surprise.

“My youngest sister draws, but she is in London visiting my aunt and uncle.” Elizabeth made room on the stone bench she was occupying. “Do make yourself comfortable, sir.”

“Just one moment, Miss Elizabeth.” Mr Darcy turned and made his way to his sister who was sketching with Miss Bates. He bent down and whispered in her ear, and she smiled widely and nodded. He straightened and patted his sibling affectionately on the head and returned to Elizabeth.

“Your sister is delightfully accomplished,” she said to him as he seated himself next to her. “I have never seen a young lady with such a thorough knowledge of music, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages. You must be very proud of her.”

“I am, though those are not the only accomplishments I hope she will learn, those are just the ones that she was fortunate enough to be blessed with. They are not accomplishments I consider necessary,” answered Darcy. “To all this, she must add something of grace and elegance to her air and manner of walking. She must be a gentle and kind mistress to those who depend upon her. And she must improve her mind by extensive reading. So far, she does very well. But she is young, and she is naturally kind and gentle. The rest will come naturally as she matures.”

“You perceive a great deal in the word accomplished!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I have never seen such a woman. She would certainly be a fearsome thing to behold.”

“Not so fearsome, I think,” replied Mr Darcy. “Radiant, I think, would be a better way to describe her.”

Elizabeth smiled uncertainly. Mr Darcy never sent her the same signals. One time they would meet, and he would seem attentive and interested, in a very intense manner. Then they would meet again, and he would be intensely distant. He seemed to be trying to tell her something now, but he could not mean to compliment her . She was certainly no accomplished woman, not by anyone’s measurement.

They looked over and saw his sister waving for his attention, and he took his leave of her. She observed him look at his sister’s sketchbook and compliment her, as Elizabeth rose and made her way to join her sisters and their group. She followed them for the rest of the day, and just before she was handed up into her carriage, Miss Darcy rushed up to her and thrust a drawing of the abbey at her.

“Elizabeth, a keepsake of your visit here,” she said breathlessly.

“Oh, what a darling you are, Georgiana!” Elizabeth exclaimed as she admired the drawing. “Thank you so much for your kindness.”

“You are very welcome, Miss Elizabeth.” Miss Darcy curtsied and turned away.

“Georgie!” Elizabeth called after her. “Please, thank your brother for his kindness as well.”

Miss Darcy gave her an incandescent smile, and returned to her carriage with Miss Bates.