Page 73 of Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet

More than once, after Darcy had returned from riding the estate, he asked me to walk out with him. Why, I do not know, for he knew our circumstances as well as I. But I had not the strength to refuse—Mama and Mr. Darcy were not yet married, so I could pretend that all was well, that our excursions, always within sight of the house, were proper, that none would assume any impropriety. Georgiana would sometimes walk with us by the lake—as we had when the three of us promenaded along the banks of Grasmere. Lady Catherine encouraged Anne to join us, but she resented my company and, on the one occasion she did walk out, insisted we turn around even before reaching the path beside the lake. Darcy tasked a gardener to assist her back to the house, much to the lady’s ire and embarrassment.

These walks were the very best part of my day. Mama would raise an eyebrow, yet I didn’t have the will to refuse his arm. We both spoke very little, content to enjoy each other’s company, knowing that our lives must diverge—he to find a wife and I a husband. There was no hope that he would suddenly stop, gaze down at me and speak the words that I longed to hear—’Elizabeth, you are everything that I have ever wished for. Dearest, I admire, respect, and love you with all my heart. Will you do me the very great honour of being my wife?’

Each night as I lay in bed, tears streaming down my cheeks, Lydia, Kitty and Mary would snuggle close and comfort me. I couldn’t speak of my loss to Mama—I feared she would give up her happiness to secure mine. That I could not countenance.

Two weeks passed. Pemberley emptied of its guests. The Hursts resumed their journey to Netherfield, where they intended to remain for the wedding, then continue to Town. The Crawleys returned to Crawley Lodge, the roof having been repaired; the Admiral remarked that all he required was a dry place to hang his hammock and a hot stove to prepare his favourite ragout. He was an altogether lovely man. Lady Catherine departed with her brother, Lord Matlock, lamenting that Darcy had not proposed to Anne and that the corruption of Pemberley was now certain. Mr. Collins accompanied her, also lamenting that I had not accepted his suit—that it was by no means certain that another offer of marriage would ever be made to me.

Milton elected to remain for a few days longer—possibly because he and Marianne Crawley had found a common interest in riding the trails near Pemberley and her estate. I wished her all the joy that such an alliance could bring. She was of good family—the Admiral to receive a barony for his services to the crown. Marianne would make an excellent viscountess, if their blossoming affection progressed to its happy conclusion.

Mama’s nuptials were set for a month hence. Mama and I were to return to Meryton to settle her affairs. The wedding, by common licence, was to be held in the parish church where she and Mr. Bennet had married—a private ceremony attended by our closest family. Darcy was to stand up with his father, and I with Mama.

* * *

Chapter 29

Meryton

“Lizzy, what a pleasant surprise! Come in, come in.” My Aunt Hattie welcomed me into her parlour, the wildflowers on the wallpaper still as bright as the day she, Kitty, and I had hung them five years before. “I shall call for tea; it will be like old times, before you went off to the Lakes.”

“I have always loved this room,” I replied, taking a seat. “There has been so much to do since we returned to Meryton, I thought I would take a moment of your time—just the two of us.”

“Of course, my dear. Is Fanny with Jane, discussing the menus for the wedding breakfast? Fancy, an earl and a countess! Such excitement for the town—nothing like it since Sir William gave his address to the King.”

Dear Aunt Hattie, she would chatter on so. Of course, being the premier gossip of Meryton, she was well practised.

“How did you find Mr. Darcy?” I asked. We had held a dinner at Hathaway House the night before, just for close family, including Uncle Edward and Aunt Madelaine, who had come from London.

“A lovely man, and so considerate of Fanny. Why, he was just like your dear Papa when he was courting your mother.” She paused, thinking back—was it four and twenty years?—when Mama was but sixteen years old, and Thomas Bennet a young man.

She poured tea, insisting I take a lemon biscuit—still my favourite. “And Miss Darcy, what a pretty girl, with fair hair just like Fanny’s. It is uncanny—they look so alike. When you walk out together as a family, she will be taken for Fanny’s daughter, and you and his son—Fitzwilliam?—the children of Mr. Darcy, both of you being dark like him.”

Aunt Hattie chuckled, then peered at me, puzzled—while I dearly love a laugh, I found it impossible. Tears moistened my eyes; angrily, I pulled my handkerchief from my sleeve and wiped my cheeks.

“Why, Lizzy, whatever is the matter? You look so sad.”

I took her hands in mine. “I love him, Aunt. I love him so much, yet we cannot, can never marry.”

“Oh, you poor dear. You love Mr. Darcy’s son, Fitzwilliam?”

“I did not know it, for I truly thought my affection for him was that of a sister for a brother. That our teasing, holding his hand when we climbed the fells, his hands about my waist when I stumbled, his carrying me upstairs when I could not walk, his kiss on my cheek and mine on his—I thought all of these were just the care and concern of an affectionate brother.”

Aunt Hattie squeezed my hands. “And you, my darling, are all that is vivacious, always full of laughter. I think you would draw anyone in. And Darcy, does he return your love? Has he declared himself?”

“He cannot! We are siblings—brothers and sisters cannot marry.”

I fell into her arms; she gently stroked my hair—oh, that I could have Mama do the same, as she had done when I was a child.

“Elizabeth, you are not upset that your mother is remarrying?” Uncle Philips entered the room, taking a seat opposite.

“Oh, no! It is my dearest wish, that she and Mr. Darcy are united. He is an excellent man, so kind and caring. And they truly do enjoy each other’s company.”

“Then why are you crying? Is there some impediment that would prevent them marrying? The settlement is exceedingly favourable—your mother retains control of all her fortune, he makes no demands on her. Indeed, he has added five thousand to your dowry—very generous for a step-daughter.”

“There is no impediment to Fanny’s marriage,” said Aunt Hattie gently, holding me ever so tightly. “But there is to Elizabeth’s heart—she loves Fitzwilliam Darcy. Yet, they cannot marry.”

Mr. Philips shook his head. “Indeed, ‘tis so under law. Have you spoken to your mother, Elizabeth? Does she know where your heart lies?”

“No! I cannot countenance it! She deserves all the happiness in the world. Mr. Bennet loved her very much—he would certainly wish her such joy.”