Georgiana Darcy and Mary sat next to each other in front of the piano, and played a duet while Jane played a game of cards with Lydia and Kitty, allowed by the youngest Gardiner daughter whispering into Jane’s ear what the cards she had pulled were. The other Gardiner children were gathered around a set of marbles and a drawn circle, taking turns shooting them.
Colonel Fitzwilliam talked to Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet, but his eyes often turned towards Jane. They had spent much of the previous evening talking, and perhaps Elizabeth ought to have a word with Mr. Darcy about his cousin’s attention to her sister.
Shortly after noon, Mrs. Bennet asked, “But when will you two marry? I must know when the wedding shall occur. It can even be tomorrow — I spoke to the rector upon this, and even though you were not here for a week, the banns do not need to be said again, or any other nonsense of that sort.”
Darcy looked at Elizabeth with his serious eyes. She flushed. She had to tell him that they needed to speak, and now was the time. But her mouth was dry and would not work.
“I believe,” Darcy said firmly, “that Elizabeth and I ought to have some privacy to speak upon the matter, and determine details ourselves.”
“No, do not askElizabeth,” Mrs. Bennet replied. “I will not letherdevelop some odd compunction upon the matter. In fact I do not know what there is to discuss. You may simply go to the church tomorrow morning and marry. That would be simplest. The time is already past for you two to be married — Mr. Bennet. is that not right? They should just marry tomorrow.”
Mr. Bennet said with a rather disgruntled expression, “Mrs. Bennet, you know that I make it a point to not interfere in matters marital that affect my daughters. Unlike some.”
“Yes, but surely you can see that—”
Mr. Darcy had risen and his expression made Mrs. Bennet become quieter. He then smiled at Elizabeth in a way that soothed her anxiety. “Dearest Elizabeth, another walk in the garden?”
“Perhaps the drive instead?”
He laughed. “I have no fear.”
Elizabeth’s stomach was unsettled. “Then the garden.”
They went out, but rather than walking around to any great extent, Darcy took them directly to the swing and they settled next to each other upon it. The day was sunny, but quite cold, and even through the gloves Elizabeth’s fingers quickly began to feel awkward and stiff from it.
“Fitzwilliam,” she suddenly exclaimed. “I have seen how you have been kind to my aunt and uncle — but I must…” she wrung her hands. “I do not want to force you to change. But we must… I must… that is — oh why is it so difficult to speak?”
“Because you feel deeply,” Darcy replied with a confident tone. “And you know that it would be wrong for you to marry a man who treats your family with contempt.”
She nodded. It sounded very simple in his voice.
He held her hand in his. “I love you, Elizabeth.”
“But you are a firm man. You know yourself and your character… At this present time you are full of affection for me, but what will happen over the course of years? I know that the first bloom of love does not last. And in two years’ time, or ten years’ time, I shall not be so young, nor quite so beautiful anymore, and—”
“I doubt very much that you shall ever not appear beautiful in my eyes.”
She looked at him and flushed, feeling that tingle of desire and need for him go through her whole body, her breasts, her stomach, her toes and her fingers. She looked longingly into his eyes, and at his lips.
He pressed a kiss on her forehead. “What were you to say next? We are sitting here in the cold tospeak.”
“How can I say… anything contrary when you say such kind things to me — even though you can hardly know what you will feel in ten years’ time.”
“Weshall discover together how we feel in ten years’ time, but I am quite confident in my prediction.”
“Are you? Your distaste for low connections. For trade, for the improper behavior of my family — it was spoken very firmly. You were quite certain. I heard you, and I have… I have thought about what you said so many times. I cannot — I cannot give up my family, those who I love. Not even for… for your love.”
“Elizabeth—”
“Please, I beg you to let me finish. I once prided myself that I rise to every attempt to intimidate me. But it is hard. So hard to speak contrary to you. I am not… I am not a pearl to be picked from the muck. I’m… I’m another one of the pigs who live in that muck. And I like my muck.”
There was a long quiet.
“A physician in Bath told me once,” said Darcy at last, “that mud baths are quite healthful.”
It was impossible to keep from giggling at that reply, delivered in such a weighty tone. “No, but I am serious.”
“I am as well. If the only way for me to live past that unfortunate metaphor of mine is to become a pig myself… well if last night and this morning are a reasonable basis to judge upon, I shall enjoy such forms of domesticity more than anything else I ever have.”
