Page 44 of Most Truly the Gentleman

When Mrs Gardiner’s little store of recollections was exhausted and the thanks of her listeners most sincerely conveyed, Georgiana left him for the company of her friends. Darcy smiled to see how warmly she was welcomed in the little group of young ladies near her age, to whom she had been a stranger less than a month ago.

Miss Elizabeth, too, was engaged with others, and though he expected that he could move in that direction and be admitted to the conversation, he hesitated. His heart and mind were so full of her that he doubted his ability to speak sensibly with others when she was close. He had no notion whether she would welcome his interest and would not wish to make her uncomfortable by acting as a mooncalf before all her friends and neighbours, and under her own roof, at that.

He elected to seek out Mr Gardiner and Mr Bennet instead; the former would depart on the morrow, and he knew not when they might meet again, and the latter was fast becoming a good friend. Aware though Darcy was that the man was not an ideal husband, father, or master, he respected that an incompatible marriage and the lack of a son had not driven him to viciousness or vice as such circumstances were frequently known to do, and he valued Mr Bennet’s intellect and companionship. Darcy also understood that the man represented his only possibility of real attachment to either of Miss Elizabeth’s parents. He could and would treat Mrs Bennet with respect, difficult though the lady might make that at times, but he would never be really fond of her.

Mr Gardiner once again impressed Darcy with his sense and intelligence. His speech, his air, his appearance were all most gentlemanly. Darcy was ashamed of himself for thinking meanly of the man without having met him, simply because he was in trade and brother to two very silly ladies. When they spoke of the war and of Parliament, he learnt that the concerns of a tradesman over such events were not entirely dissimilar to those of a gentleman—both must be concerned with what effect conflict at sea must have on their ability to acquire wanted and needed items, how the constant requirement to send more young men to the front affected their ability to adequately fill open positions, and how the changing, intertwined fortunes of war and trade affected the prices of domestic goods. As different as their lives were, greater events concerned them both, and often in a very similar fashion.

As the Netherfield party were making ready to depart, he did seek Miss Elizabeth out, if only for a farewell. “You will be sad, I think, to see the Gardiners depart tomorrow,” he said, grasping for another moment in her company.

“I always am,” she agreed. “But London is not so far away. I shall spend some part of the coming year with them, and must be content to wait for that.”

Before he could reply, there was a giggle behind him. “Lizzy, you and Mr Darcy are under the mistletoe,” Miss Kitty said. He turned his head and beheld his own sister by her friend’s side, both of them grinning expectantly. Raising his eyes, he saw she was correct. Plucking a berry from it, he bent and kissed Miss Elizabeth’s cheek. Her skin was soft and warm beneath his lips; her hair smelled of lavender and lilies. He felt a bit light-headed as he straightened, and saw she was blushing rosily, though she smiled.

He hoped his farewells were sensibly spoken; he hardly knew what emerged from his mouth in the moments following. No one seemed to regard him oddly so he assumed he had acquitted himself well enough. He said little on the drive back to Netherfield, being occupied in contemplating Miss Elizabeth’s manifold attractions and wondering if he might be able to acquire a sprig of lavender for his room. At any rate, Miss Bingley’s vocal dissatisfaction with everything and everyone at Longbourn would have made it impossible to speak more had he wished to.

28

TWELFTH NIGHT

Darcy did not see Miss Elizabeth again until a very brief exchange after church; it was cold and spitting snow, and the gathering in the churchyard lasted only so long as it took to bring each carriage around. He arrived at Haye-Park on the final night of the year determined to be bolder in his wooing. He would be an old man before she learnt to love him if he did not exert himself, and if he were not sat near her at dinner, there would be opportunity in the games which were to follow. He also now had an ally bent on advancing his cause.

It had come to him the previous day that, having resolved after encountering Wickham once more to keep his sister better informed in matters which might concern her, he had not yet advised her that he was contemplating an alliance which would not be universally lauded. He had sat her down and with unprecedented openness explained that he was in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet and hoped to make her his wife. He hoped, he said, that Georgiana would not be much disturbed by the likely disapprobation from some members of their family and of society, assuring her that most would come to accept the situation in time. Neither did he fail to mention that some gentlemen might hesitate to consider her as a potential bride due to the connexion, especially if he gained Bingley as a brother through his marriage, but he thought those would be very few in number.

Georgiana had immediately disclaimed any interest in such ‘priggish, stupid’ gentlemen, declaring that losing their approbation would only improve her experience of society. She was delighted to imagine gaining such a sister—no, she was ecstatic. Her good friend Miss Kitty would then become family, also, which only added to her felicity. Then she declared that she would assist him in his quest whenever the opportunity arose.

This offer, he had accepted gratefully. Miss Bingley was becoming more of an annoyance. Whether she had sensed his interest becoming focused on another, or was simply panicking now that all her demonstrations of skill as a hostess had not induced him to pay her a whit more attention, he did not know, but her attentions to him were becoming more overt, and when he had paused to greet the Bennets after church, he had done so with her hanging onto his arm and ostentatiously lifting her nose at those with whom he was speaking.

It was a small gathering; the Gouldings had invited the Bennets, the Lucases, and the Netherfield party to mark the end of the year with them. This suited Darcy exactly. He would be comfortable in this company, the noise was unlikely to become bothersome, and all in all, it was a situation in which he felt he could display himself to best advantage. When he learnt from their hostess as she greeted them that seating at dinner would be informal, he had the giddy thought that if ever he were to make a large wager, it ought to be tonight, for his luck was certainly in.

Almost as soon as he thought it, his luck changed for the worse. He, Fitzwilliam, and Bingley made directly for the ladies they favoured, who were standing together with Miss Kitty and Miss Long, but the moment he straightened from his bow, a hand seized his arm, wrapping about the crook of his elbow.

Miss Bingley.

He was perilously near to saying something shockingly rude, when the merest twitch of the corner of Miss Elizabeth’s mouth caught his attention. She nodded at him as though acknowledging his greeting, but the amusement in her eyes was clear, and just like that, his temper settled. Miss Bingley was ridiculous and too, too brazen, but it would not do to shame her before the company.

Therefore, he hinted at his displeasure by ignoring her as best he could, entering into the conversation and acknowledging her infrequent and openly disdainful contributions with no more than an inclination of the head to signal that he had heard her.

The dinner hour was rapidly approaching and he had resigned himself to escorting Miss Bingley as well as Miss Elizabeth into the dining room when his sister drew Miss Bingley’s attention, saying, “Miss Bingley, will you help me? I feel as though one of my hairpins has come loose, but Kitty does not see it.” She presented the back of her head, and even Darcy could see a pin sticking out at an angle from among the artfully twisted locks. A glance at Miss Kitty showed her to be looking intently at the tips of her shoes, and he suspected she was exerting herself not to laugh.

Miss Bingley was then forced to relinquish Darcy’s arm in order to assist Georgiana, after which his sister gamely retained her attention by offering her thanks and laughingly speaking of how mortifying it would have been had her hair tumbled down at the dinner table. This was interrupted by the announcement of the meal, and Darcy wasted not a second in offering his arm to Miss Elizabeth and beckoning his sister to take the other. Poor Miss Bingley entered the dining room on her brother’s arm.

Once the soup course was served, he turned to Miss Elizabeth and remarked, “I see your youngest sister has stayed at home. Your father holds to his resolution?”

“Entirely, and to the great satisfaction of myself and my other sisters,” she replied with an appearance of relief and no little amazement. “She is too young and too ignorant to conduct herself properly in company; Kitty is almost two years her elder and has only recently begun to really consider how she appears to others, and how she wishes to be seen.”

He recalled the plight of Miss Susan Harrington and shuddered to think how close the Bennets had come to being mired in such a scandal, without even the dubious relief of an improvident marriage to ameliorate their downfall. Would that have deterred him from pursuing Miss Elizabeth? He could not say; his decision to pursue her had come after it seemed the affair had been hushed up, and had Miss Lydia been quite ruined while he was yet uncertain of his regard, it might well have sent him running for London, never to return.

“I wish Lydia might take an example from your sister, as Kitty has done,” she was saying as these thoughts ran through his mind. “You and your cousin have brought up an excellent young lady.”

“Much of the credit must go to my aunt, Lady Matlock, and to Georgiana herself. In essentials I believe she is much like your elder sister. And now it is for me to compliment a sister of yours, by pointing out that Georgiana seems to be learning a bit of welcome liveliness from Miss Kitty.”

Miss Elizabeth glanced down the table to where Georgiana and the sister in question had their heads bent close together, speaking softly of some matter which made them both smile. “Kitty is a good sort of girl,” she said fondly. “I wish I had troubled myself to understand her years ago. Jane and I have been close all my life, and I never paid much attention to my younger sisters, though I ought to have done.”

The regret in her expression touched him. “It is not by any means too late,” he offered. “I have been almost as a father to Georgiana these five years, and only recently have we become more brother and sister once again.”

“True. Mary will leave us soon, but we may write, and Kitty and Lydia will remain at home for some time yet.”

They might, but it is my fondest hope you shall not, he thought. Their conversation was interrupted by the servants moving about to serve the second course. When their plates were filled and their glasses refreshed, he asked, “Are you looking forward to the assembly on Twelfth Night?”