Page 25 of The Heroic Mr Darcy’s Bad Manners

It came as no surprise to the public that Lady Catherine Campbell née Bennet was acquitted. The Campbells faced trial, and the Fitzwilliam family suffered derision for witnessing in the Campbells’ favour. The newspapers were gleefully emphasising the irony that Lord Matlock’s son was to marry Catherine Bennet’s niece, and the caricaturists were merciless in their depictions.

Lord Matlock was not tried. The judge acquitted him on the basis that he had simply related what he saw, though he was reprimanded for his investigation that had left much wanting. The family escaped the tattlers by retiring to their country estate.

Elizabeth’s favourite place in Limerick House was the window seat facing the square. With the warm weather, plenty of people were out and about, but Mr Darcy was never among them…

She had not always thought so well of him as she did now, but time and distance had allowed for deeper reflections. It had been a long time since she had admitted that he was the recipient of her affections, but now she comprehended that he was exactly the man who suited her most in disposition and talents.

Elizabeth was readying herself for bed when someone scratched at her door, and she called, “Enter.” The soft sound could only be Jane’s, and her informal apparel would not disgrace her in the eyes of her sister. Jane took the brush from her hand and continued to work her curls with a gentle hand.

“I wish to invite you to join me on my bridal trip.”

Elizabeth gazed at her sister in the mirror. She knew it was commonly done to bring a sister on a wedding trip, but why Jane would want her to impose upon her and the colonel was unfathomable. She had always surmised that those who did were not best pleased with their choice of husband… To think the colonel would agree to the scheme for any other reason than to please his wife was even less plausible. If she ever were so fortunate as to secure Mr Darcy, she would wish to be quite alone with him. Mortified by her thoughts she regarded herself in the mirror, studying the redness blooming on her cheeks.

“Where are you travelling?” she asked with trepidation.

“North,” was Jane’s short reply, and Elizabeth saw that her sister was as abashed as herself. Jane developed a spot of redness on her neck when she was apprehensive, and it struck her that her sister and the colonel might be visiting his relations. If that was the case, she had no problem understanding why Jane needed the fortification of a sister.

“To Matlock?” Elizabeth enquired with a raised brow.

“No!” Jane cried, aghast. “Richard’s father has not forgiven him for marrying a Glentworth… We are planning a visit to the Lake District.”

That was unfortunate. Elizabeth could easily imagine lazy days languishing by a romantic lake, holding hands and exchanging clandestine kisses. A sister, even one who was as pleasant company as herself, did not belong in that picture. If, on the other hand, they were going to Pemberley, she might be tempted to accept regardless of the inconvenience to the bride and groom.

“Are you stopping in Lambton?” Elizabeth asked as indifferently as she could muster. Pemberley was quite close. It was to be hoped that she might accidentally happen upon Mr Darcy in the village and show him every civility.

“No, we have no such intentions,” her sister refuted in a comforting voice.

Jane must still believe that I dislike Mr Darcy , Elizabeth mused. Yet, she could not muster the courage to relate the change in her sentiments towards the gentleman.

“Very well!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I shall consider it.”

“Oh! Very good. I am very much anticipating the trip, and having you with me would make it even more pleasant. I dare say the colonel would be very pleased should you decide to join us. He is as eager as I. I promise we would not tax you too much and will have a very pleasant journey. Imagine the sights we would see and what lovely nature we would pass. I dare say it would satisfy even your hankering for adventure and rambling through the countryside.”

Jane was prattling, which was uncommon. There were too many verys for her sister’s subtle nature. She must be dissembling to some degree or other. Perhaps she was inviting her out of a misguided form of obligation.

“If I am to be honest, Jane, I do not think it is a very good idea…”

Her sister looked crestfallen, so Elizabeth gave her a quick hug, assured her she would be most content remaining in London, and shooed her out of her room.

Elizabeth approached her grandmother the next morning and asked for a word in private, so they adjourned to Mrs Bennet’s sitting room.

“Jane invited me to join her on her bridal trip.”

“How wonderful!” her grandmother exclaimed. “But you do not look happy,” she added, modifying her exhilaration. “I cannot see why not.”

“They are going to the Lake District…”

“I thought you wanted to see the Lakes. I am certain I have heard you mention as much on several occasions.”

“I have been so wretchedly blind…”

“Dear Leanbh. I do not believe a change of mind regarding the Lake District can be deemed wretched,” her grandmother mused.

“I am not speaking about the Lakes,” Elizabeth clarified.

“Oh!” her grandmother cried as if she had experienced a sudden epiphany. “What can I do to help you?”

“You can take me to Pemberley under the disguise of a trip north. No one would be any the wiser if we go no farther than the Midlands.”

“Why?” her grandmother asked plainly.

“To show my gratitude for the mortification and sacrifices Mr Darcy has suffered on behalf of my family,” Elizabeth dissembled.

“And?” Grandmother Bennet questioned, not allowing herself to be taken for a fool.

“To determine whether Mr Darcy returns my admiration,” Elizabeth finally admitted.

Maeve Bennet regarded her for a long moment, making Elizabeth squirm under the heavy scrutiny.

“I am quite certain that he cares for you. In fact, I know he loves you most fervently.”

“How can you speak so decidedly?” Elizabeth doubted.

“Because Eudora told me so when we returned to town in November. She is almost his closest relation and knows most of his affairs.”

Elizabeth knew she was staring most unbecomingly at her dear relation, but she could not help it. She searched her grandmother’s eyes for signs of mirth or prevarication. Finding none she asked, “Why did you not tell me?”

“Because you did not want to hear it. You held on to your grudge regardless of what I said, which convinced me you needed to discover the truth for yourself. Now that you have, you may leave it to me.” She tapped her nose and left not only her sitting room but the house.

#

Elizabeth had hoped that Mr Darcy would attend his cousin’s wedding—he did not, and she was left to repent an opportunity lost.

Because of the trial, only their intimate family were in attendance. Jane preferred a quiet wedding and shone brilliantly in her new light-blue dress. The breakfast was held at Limerick House with a small selection of family and close friends.

The newly married couple were to leave the next morning for their bridal trip. Elizabeth and her grandmother had been invited to join Miss Eudora Darcy at her estate, Edensor, and they were to leave in a procession of carriages as far as Derbyshire for the safety of both travelling parties.

Two and a half days later, they turned off the main road at a lodge. For some time, a beautiful wood stretched over a wide extent and gradually ascended over half a mile, when suddenly the wood ceased, and they found themselves on the top of a considerable eminence. The carriage drew to a halt to allow the travellers to enjoy the view.

Jane opened the door to the carriage Elizabeth and her grandmother shared with Miss Eudora Darcy. “Would you mind joining me for a moment, Lizzy?”

“Not at all,” she assured her sister.

Elizabeth peered out to discover, at the opposite side of the valley, a large, handsome stone building that stood well upon the rising ground. It was backed by a ridge of high woody hills, whilst in front a stream of natural importance swelled into a lake without any artificial appearance. “Where are we?” Elizabeth muttered in astonishment.

“You may guess.” Jane smirked most vexingly.

“Is it Chatsworth?” Elizabeth could well imagine it was the home of a duke, but Jane shook her head. “Haddon Hall?” Another shake of denial. Elizabeth huffed and stepped out whilst trying to remember which other great estates in the area she had heard mentioned. “Good gracious! Is that Pemberley?” Elizabeth swept her eyes across the valley and spotted a couple of young lads up the stream with fishing rods in their hands. Uncle Gardiner would regret he had not accompanied them…

“I need to stretch my legs and wondered whether you would like to accompany me? The grounds are delightful, and I am very much inclined to explore after sitting so very long in one attitude.”

Elizabeth was surprised she had not requested the colonel’s company, but since she was inclined to walk, reckoned it was best not to suggest it.

“Excellent, my dear,” the colonel called from his carriage. He was leaning out of the door whilst sending his wife a significant look.

Jane grabbed her arm and strode vigorously towards a bench not ten yards from the carriages and gestured for Elizabeth to sit.

“I thought we were to stroll,” she complained.

“We have walked, now we shall sit and admire the view.”

Elizabeth did as requested in sheer bewilderment at Jane’s commanding tone of voice. It must be the colonel’s influence, and she was not certain she liked this development in her serene sister’s character.

Jane sat beside her, turned to face her, completely disregarding the picturesque view, and grabbed her hands. She looked at her imploringly, as though she had something particularly distasteful to relate.

“You have been very sly with me,” she accused. “Very reserved. But however little you are willing to tell me, do not suppose me ignorant of your plight or unaware of your feelings.”

“I know not of what you speak,” Elizabeth prevaricated.

Jane slowly nodded her head. “You do. In fact, I believe not much else occupies your thoughts, and it has been so for quite some time. I have watched you turn from my vivacious, happy sister to someone quiet and contemplative, hovering in impenetrable sadness. You see, I observe in you what you surely have recognised in me—a preference for a certain gentleman, an ardent infatuation, or dare I say love.”

Elizabeth stared at her sister before slowly turning her head towards Pemberley.

“I only ask you to be honest,” Jane said cryptically and rose. “At least with yourself, and, it is to be hoped, with the gentleman who owns your heart. I dare say there is reason to aspire to a happy conclusion. But, for now, I shall leave you to your thoughts,” her sister declared and walked away.

Elizabeth remained rooted to the bench. Was this not what she had coveted? To be granted an opportunity to show her improved impression, her willingness to forgive the slights—though he had not even begged her pardon in person. Faced with the possibility, she hardly knew whether she had the courage…

“Wait!” she cried, but Jane had already entered the colonel’s carriage. Elizabeth returned to her conveyance and joined her grandmother. Whilst she pondered this conundrum, they descended the hill where the road wound with abruptness, crossed a bridge, and turned onto a side road. Looking out of the window, she watched as Jane and the colonel’s vehicle continued on towards Pemberley’s door. An elderly-looking housekeeper—less fine and more civil than she imagined would have greeted them at Chatsworth or Blenheim—came hurrying down the steps. Her brother-in-law alighted and handed out his bride before her view of the house disappeared around a bend.

“This is my Edensor, or rather it is Mr Darcy’s, but I have the tenancy for as long as I live,” Miss Eudora Darcy informed her guests only five minutes later.

The house was much smaller than Pemberley but rivalled Longbourn. Elizabeth thought she could be very happy here, especially considering the close proximity to Mr Darcy’s estate, which was in easy walking distance should she be so inclined.

“May I stretch my legs?” she asked her grandmother. “Jane’s idea of a stroll is by no means sufficient.” She chuckled.

Maeve Bennet allowed her to abscond as she might as well get her hems dirtied before she changed for dinner.

Elizabeth thanked her grandmother and walked towards a sheltered path winding along the river with trepidation growing in her mind. Mr Darcy had avoided her company for months, yet both Jane and Grandmother Bennet believed there was reason to hope. Neither would have put Elizabeth in this precarious position if they thought Mr Darcy might object. Jane, in particular, must know something Elizabeth did not, which was not so unfathomable when she considered her closeness with her new husband. Mr Darcy and the colonel were not mere cousins, they were dear friends, and as close as brothers. Could Mr Darcy have spoken to the colonel and begged them to come and bring Elizabeth? If so, her being here would be an anticipated event. The sound of a horse approaching intruded upon her happy thoughts and reeling mind.

She stepped out of the path to allow the rider to pass whilst she pondered what to say to Mr Darcy when she encountered him.

The bright sun reflecting off the water scorched her eyes, and she turned her back to it just as the rider came around the bend. A man was trotting slowly with a sodden child clutched in his arm—a forlorn young fisherman, she surmised, as the man lifted his head.

The rider was none other than Mr Darcy, and her heart danced a reel in her chest. She vacillated between dread and pleasure before the delight of seeing him won the battle of emotions. For that short space of time, she thought his feelings for her were still unshaken—until she espied his countenance. The shock written on his face betrayed that her arrival was unexpected, and the beating of her heart increased to a deafening rhythm. What must he think of me? Visiting his aunt just minutes from his doorstep?

Let me see how he behaves before quashing every expectation, she decided and fought for composure.

He drew his horse to a halt in front of her.

She curtseyed and with anxious curiosity looked into his eyes.

“Mr Darcy!” She looked away. He was in his shirtsleeves and wet to the skin, but his countenance was serious—more as he had looked in Hertfordshire than in London. Did he object to her presence? It was a painful but not an improbable conjecture.

“Lady Elizabeth?” he greeted with a questioning tone of voice.

“I have come with my grandmother and Miss Eudora Darcy,” she explained. “They were so obliging and invited me for a visit to Edensor. I had no idea Pemberley was so close.” She glanced up at him just in time to see his face change from surprised to crestfallen.

A droplet fell from a wayward lock and travelled down his face. He blew at the offending strand, which barely budged. He had no hands free with the child sitting in front of him, secured by his arm, and the reins in his other hand. How dearly would she have liked to run her hand through his hair, even when wet. To be allowed such an intimacy…

The child of six or seven summers shivered and appeared blue about the lips. She took the shawl draped unused over her arm and gave it to Mr Darcy.

“Wrap the child in this. It should keep him warm until you reach the house.”

“Thank you,” Mr Darcy said and grabbed the shawl. Their fingers grazed each other—his hand was so chilled. “You are cold!” she exclaimed. The water must have been freezing. She stepped promptly back. “Pray! Do not allow me to detain you.”

He rode off, and she stood gazing after him, boldly ogling his figure exposed by a wet, clinging shirt. She adored water; it may very well be her favourite thing when pertaining to Mr Darcy.

She was pathetic… Not a word had she spoken about how delightful she found Pemberley, or her pleasure in seeing him, or anything remotely similar to her true sentiments.

Mr Darcy turned and glanced at her for a brief moment before he disappeared out of sight. The gesture delighted her. He was not completely indifferent.

She walked slowly back to Edensor. The butler opened the door and ushered her inside, informing her that the ladies had retired to their rooms.

“Would you like an escort to your chamber?” he offered to Elizabeth’s relief.

“Yes, if you would be so kind.”

“Certainly, madam.” He rang for a maid. “Would you like to join Miss Darcy and Mrs Bennet’s tour of the house when you have rested?” he asked while they waited for the servant.

“Yes. Thank you, I would be much obliged.”

“There is a bell in your room,” the butler informed her, “should you need anything. Hannah has been assigned for your personal comfort and will respond to your summons.”

“Thank you,” she repeated.

Hannah arrived. She was a lively girl about Elizabeth’s own age. They reached her chamber papered in Spanish fly green with a white wainscot and gold trimmings. In the middle of the room stood a large bed with a canopy, and fresh flowers made the chamber smell like a meadow. Smiling, she went to a window to enjoy the delightful prospect of the winding valley. She sighed in contentment and felt a sudden impulse to dance a reel.

The tour of the house was rather quick, and once it was completed, Miss Eudora Darcy imparted that they had been invited to Pemberley for dinner and they had best hurry if they were to arrive on time.

“My nephew is always so attentive to my needs. He knows I keep only the one cook, and I usually send her by post between London and Derbyshire,” Miss Eudora Darcy explained. “He was concerned that she would not arrive in time to prepare our meal, and he therefore invited us to dine with him this evening.

That little titbit of news made Elizabeth feel uneasy. She had come implicitly to see Mr Darcy, but when she encountered him, she had become tongue-tied and had forgotten everything she had planned to say. She needed more time to prepare a speech, but as that was not to be had, Elizabeth donned her shawl with trembling hands and entered the carriage for the short drive to Pemberley, where they were welcomed by the housekeeper.

“May I enquire whether the child who fell into the river is well?” Elizabeth asked, which earned her surprised looks from her grandmother and Miss Eudora Darcy.

“How good of you to ask,” the housekeeper replied in astonishment. The master could not have informed her about their awkward meeting by the riverbank nor related whose shawl the child had been wrapped in. “Little John is very well indeed. The fish he had caught got loose, and he fell into the river when he tried to retrieve it. Fortunately, he managed to grab hold of a stone in the stream, and the master rescued him out of the water.”

“John is fortunate to have such a heroic master,” Elizabeth quipped.

“He certainly is, and better yet, he appears unharmed but for the fright. He is still here, warming himself by the kitchen fire whilst being spoilt rotten by our cook. She was never blessed with children of her own and heartily welcomes the intrusion. It was convenient since the kitchen fire is the only one that is lit at the moment.”

“I am relieved he appears to have suffered no lasting injury,” Elizabeth admitted, and the housekeeper escorted them to the dining room.

Dinner was awkward at best. Mr Darcy enquired after her family, then coloured and bowed his head. It was a potent subject with the recent trial and the downfall of the Matlocks.

“Thank you, they are all very well. How is your sister, Miss Darcy?”

“Very well, thank you.”

“Is she not here?”

“Um, no. She is visiting one of our neighbours, Miss Throwbridge, who is her particular friend.”

“I am sorry I missed her. Would you be so kind as to send her my regards?”

“Certainly.”

After the stilted conversation that did nothing to appease her nerves, Mr Darcy scarcely uttered another word. Several minutes elapsed without the sound of his voice. Unable to resist the impulse of curiosity, Elizabeth raised her eyes and waited for a glance in her direction so that she could smile to cheer him, but his eyes darted so quickly away that she never managed it. She found him looking at Jane as often as herself, and frequently at no object but the floor. He plainly expressed more thoughtfulness and less anxiety to please than when they had been together in London. She was disappointed, and angry with herself for feeling so. What could she possibly expect after he had shunned her for months?

With their small party, there was no separation of the sexes after dinner. Elizabeth was requested to entertain, and she was glad she had spent her time wisely and practised diligently of late. She was in no humour for conversation with anyone besides Mr Darcy, but she hardly had the courage. In her solitude by the pianoforte, she dwelt on the subjects that would deaden her hopes—Mr Darcy’s silence, gravity, and indifference. It was better for all concerned to give him up when his society afforded no pleasures that could atone for the wretchedness she felt.

Elizabeth was certain she could feel Mr Darcy’s gaze burning into her skin before the music captured her completely. She finished and was applauded until her cheeks were ablaze.

What was she to do? How could she give him encouragement without being too forward? It was not as though she could request a private moment with the master of the house.

To her consternation, her sister stifled a yawn. The colonel noticed and promptly announced their wish to retire. It had been a long journey, and they had farther still to travel.

“When do you depart?” Elizabeth asked the colonel, hoping it was not at first light. She might find herself in dire need of Jane’s consolation ere long.

“Not for a few days.” Her brother-in-law smiled.

“What a relief,” Elizabeth muttered gratefully. It meant that she would have an excuse to visit Pemberley under the guise of seeing her sister for a few blessed days more. Mr Darcy’s head snapped up. She was finally able to bestow the smile she had been so eager to give, and the gentleman returned the gesture.

It was with a slightly lighter heart that Elizabeth left for Edensor with her grandmother and Eudora Darcy.