Page 17 of A Promise Made

I almost forgot to tell you that my solicitor informs me that one of the investments made for the Bennet ladies has tripled….

Lizzy stopped reading and refolded the letter. She carefully kept track of the accounts started by Mr Darcy and her father, and she was well aware of their growth. She had told Jane of the doubling of Longbourn’s annual income and of the investment account that would be used for their dowries. However, Lizzy’s younger three sisters and her mother remained unaware of all of that because Papa warned that they would attempt to spend the money in the present rather than allowing the invested funds to grow for the future. “Frills and furbelows and lace would be the cry, every minute of every day,” Lizzy’s father said. She had reluctantly agreed.

However, all the Bennets knew of the greatest gift Mr Darcy had bestowed: he had arranged to break the entail by persuading Mr Collins to accept a lump-sum payment, in early 1807, in return for his legal agreement that, when he finally inherited Longbourn (if he lived long enough to do so), he would file a Common Recovery and sell the estate to Mr Darcy.

When that day came, and Mr Darcy owned the estate, Mrs Bennet and any unmarried Bennet sisters would be able to keep living at Longbourn. As the owner of a much grander estate, Mr Darcy had no desire to reside in Hertfordshire himself. Because of the assurance that the family would not be flung into the hedgerows upon Mr Bennet’s death, Lizzy and Jane’s mother complained far less of her nerves and was much more positive about the future.

It was no wonder that no other young man could compare with Mr Darcy. Before every ball and dinner party, Lizzy attempted to rein in her expectations, knowing that nobody would ever be as generous, competent, and helpful as that singular young man. After all, she did not wish to be a spinster merely because her measuring stick was far too wonderful.

But then, she would meet another young man, and he would show himself to be lazy and callow, or prone to gambling and drink, or charming on the surface but with a deep well of selfishness flashing warnings through his engaging address.

As Jane and Lizzy walked through the door of the assembly, Lizzy whispered, “Once more unto the breach.”

Jane smiled and took a deep breath, saying after she blew it out, “No unreasonable expectations but—” another deep inhale and exhale— “no tying ourselves to men of no character.”

“Agreed,” Lizzy said with a nod.

Several gentlemen of their acquaintance clustered around them, and soon each sister had the first three sets promised. It took Lizzy two and a half sets to realise that the man her mother had been longing to meet had not, in fact, come: Mr Bingley and whoever he had meant to bring were not there.

Almost immediately on the heels of that thought, there was a surge towards the door, a susurration of rustles and whispers that caused the musicians to postpone starting the next dance.

“What is occurring?” Lizzy asked her partner. “Is the errant lease-holder finally making an appearance?”

“I suppose so,” said Mr Goulding. He was not all that much taller than Lizzy, but he stood on tip-toes and strained his neck upwards in an effort to see. “Does Mr Bingley have blond hair and light eyes?” he asked.

“I would not know,” Lizzy replied. “But I heard Mr Bingley was going to bring a large group from London. Are there other strangers?”

Mr Goulding stretched again and then reported, “Two ladies and two additional men. One of the men looks older and stouter, balding a bit, and the other man—looks vaguely familiar.”

“Oh! Perhaps you have seen him in Meryton the past week? I believe Mr Bingley has been here eight or nine days.”

“No…I cannot recall, but I believe I met the last man years ago. A tall man with dark hair and eyes⁠—”

Lizzy whispered, “Mr Darcy?”

“That is it! Brilliant, Lizzy!”

“Oh, my…” Lizzy felt as if her knees had weakened, as if she needed to sit down.

The music started, but she did not take the proper first step, and Mr Goulding asked, “Are you well? Should we get some refreshment? Or sit?”

I am made of sterner stuff, Lizzy lectured herself, and I will not swoon, whether or not Mr Darcy just walked into the assembly!

She firmly pointed out to her weak knees that Mr Darcy’s letter had said nothing about coming to the area—so it was very likely that Mr Goulding was wrong in identifying a stranger as their long-ago acquaintance.

Smiling and murmuring assurances to Mr Goulding, Lizzy noted the place in the dance pattern and threw herself fully into the enjoyment and energy of an English country dance.

When the dance was done, Mr Goulding led her to her father—and even from the backside, she recognised the man standing with him—it was Mr Darcy.

Mr Darcy turned. “Miss Elizabeth,” he said, smiling. This was not the polite almost-smiles she had seen grace his face five years ago, but his rare dimple-displaying smile.

For some time, as she read his increasingly dear letters, Lizzy had assumed that she had built up her memory of Mr Darcy as more and more handsome than he, in fact, was. However, actual-flesh-and-blood Mr Darcy turned out to be even more handsome than her memories claimed. He carried himself with more confidence, after being master of his estate for more than five years, so she supposed that it was not all that surprising that he was in even better looks than when she had first known him.

That, and he only once or twice truly smiled at me, back then.

“Mr Darcy. What a surprise this is,” she said, aiming her brightest smile his way.

Still grinning with delight, he nodded and said, “I knew it would be quite a surprise. You look—very well.” He seemed to run out of breath in the middle of that sentence, and he blushed, just as he had so often done all those years ago.