Pride and Prejudice (Clandestine Classics) (39 page)

It had been settled in the evening between the aunt and the niece, that such a striking civility as Miss Darcy’s in coming to see them on the very day of her arrival at Pemberley, for she had reached it only to a late breakfast, ought to be imitated, though it could not be equalled, by some exertion of politeness on their side, and, consequently, that it would be highly expedient to wait on her at Pemberley the following morning. They were, therefore, to go. Elizabeth was pleased, though when she asked herself the reason, she had very little to say in reply.

Mr Gardiner left them soon after breakfast. The fishing scheme had been renewed the day before, and a positive engagement made of his meeting some of the gentlemen at Pemberley before noon.

Chapter Forty-Five

Convinced as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley’s dislike of her had originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how unwelcome her appearance at Pemberley must be to her, and was curious to know with how much civility on that lady’s side the acquaintance would now be renewed. But Elizabeth’s main concern was how she would react should she see Mr Darcy at Pemberley. She was nervous of being obvious, well aware that all persons present would be watching her closely to determine her feelings towards the gentleman. Would her face betray her desire for him? And how would he react?

On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into the saloon, whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for summer. Its windows opening to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody hills behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts which were scattered over the intermediate lawn.

In this house they were received by Miss Darcy, who was sitting there with Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley, and the lady with whom she lived in London. Georgiana’s reception of them was very civil, but attended with all the embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the fear of doing wrong, would easily give to those who felt themselves inferior the belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs Gardiner and her niece, however, did her justice, and pitied her.

By Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley they were noticed only by a curtsey, and, on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be, succeeded for a few moments. It was first broken by Mrs Annesley, a genteel, agreeable-looking woman, whose endeavour to introduce some kind of discourse proved her to be more truly well-bred than either of the others. Between her and Mrs Gardiner, with occasional help from Elizabeth, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked as if she wished for courage enough to join in it, and sometimes did venture a short sentence when there was least danger of its being heard.

Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss Bingley, and that she could not speak a word, especially to Miss Darcy, without calling her attention. This observation would not have prevented her from trying to talk to the latter, had they not been seated at an inconvenient distance, but she was not sorry to be spared the necessity of saying much. Her own thoughts were employing her. She expected every moment that some of the gentlemen would enter the room. She wished, she feared that the master of the house might be amongst them, and whether she wished or feared it most, she could scarcely determine. After sitting in this manner a quarter of an hour without hearing Miss Bingley’s voice, Elizabeth was roused by receiving from her a cold enquiry after the health of her family. She answered with equal indifference and brevity, and the other said no more.

The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by the entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the finest fruits in season, but this did not take place till after many a significant look and smile from Mrs Annesley to Miss Darcy had been given, to remind her of her post. There was now employment for the whole party—for though they could not all talk, they could all eat, and the beautiful pyramids of grapes, nectarines, and peaches soon collected them round the table.

While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding whether she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr Darcy, by the feelings which prevailed on his entering the room, and then, though but a moment before she had believed her wishes to predominate, she began to regret that he came.

He had been some time with Mr Gardiner, who, with two or three other gentlemen from the house, was engaged by the river, and had left him only on learning that the ladies of the family intended a visit to Georgiana that morning. His eyes sought her out the moment he entered the room and the joyful smile he proffered upon seeing her made her heart skip a beat. No sooner did he appear than Elizabeth wisely resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed. It was a resolution the more necessary to be made, but perhaps not the more easily kept, because she saw that the suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them, and that there was scarcely an eye which did not watch his behaviour when he first came into the room. In no countenance was attentive curiosity so strongly marked as in Miss Bingley’s, in spite of the smiles which overspread her face whenever she spoke to one of its objects, for jealousy had not yet made her desperate, and her attentions to Mr Darcy were by no means over. Miss Darcy, on her brother’s entrance, exerted herself much more to talk, and Elizabeth saw that he was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded as much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss Bingley saw all this likewise, and, in the imprudence of anger, took the first opportunity of saying, with sneering civility, “Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the ——shire Militia removed from Meryton? They must be a great loss to
your
family.”

In Darcy’s presence she dared not mention Wickham’s name, but Elizabeth instantly comprehended that he was uppermost in her thoughts, and the various recollections connected with him gave her a moment’s distress, but exerting herself vigorously to repel the ill-natured attack, she presently answered the question in a tolerably detached tone. While she spoke, an involuntary glance showed her Darcy, with a heightened complexion, earnestly looking at her, and his sister overcome with confusion, and unable to lift up her eyes. Had Miss Bingley known what pain she was then giving her beloved friend, she undoubtedly would have refrained from the hint, but she had merely intended to discompose Elizabeth by bringing forward the idea of a man to whom she believed her partial, to make her betray a sensibility which might injure her in Darcy’s opinion, and, perhaps, to remind the latter of all the follies and absurdities by which some part of her family were connected with that corps. Not a syllable had ever reached her of Miss Darcy’s meditated elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, where secrecy was possible, except to Elizabeth, and from all Bingley’s connections her brother was particularly anxious to conceal it, from the very wish which Elizabeth had long ago attributed to him, of their becoming hereafter her own. He had certainly formed such a plan, and without meaning that it should effect his endeavour to separate him from Miss Bennet, it is probable that it might add something to his lively concern for the welfare of his friend.

Elizabeth’s collected behaviour, however, soon quieted his emotion, and as Miss Bingley, vexed and disappointed, dared not approach nearer to Wickham, Georgiana also recovered in time, though not enough to be able to speak any more. Her brother, whose eye she feared to meet, scarcely recollected her interest in the affair, and the very circumstance which had been designed to turn his thoughts from Elizabeth seemed to have fixed them on her more and more cheerfully. On every occasion that Elizabeth looked at Darcy she found his eyes on her, and she was both pleased and flattered by the admiration in their depths. The heat and longing was soon to follow, a sight she had convinced herself she would never see again. She wished then more than ever that they did not have so many curious eyes watching their every move. She wanted to be alone with him. The very idea of what they could do if they were alone together sent heat rushing to her cheeks, and Darcy seemed to catch it, for he grinned sensually as though he could read her thoughts.

Their visit did not continue long after the question and answer above mentioned, and while Mr Darcy was attending them to their carriage Miss Bingley was venting her feelings in criticisms on Elizabeth’s person, behaviour, and dress. But Georgiana would not join her. Her brother’s recommendation was enough to ensure her favour, his judgement could not err. And he had spoken in such terms of Elizabeth as to leave Georgiana without the power of finding her otherwise than lovely and amiable.

Mrs Gardiner mumbled something about taking a look at the roses in the garden before boarding the carriage and discreetly walked ahead, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy alone in the courtyard. They were silent for a moment, until Mr Darcy turned and met Elizabeth’s gaze.

“Thank you for the compliment of calling to see my sister this morning. It is kindly appreciated.”

Elizabeth waved off his gratitude. “It was my pleasure—it was delightful to see her again.” And you too, she secretly added.

“I feel I must apologise,” said he.

Elizabeth lifted her brow. If either of them had need to make an apology it should be her for the appalling way she had treated him in Kent.

Darcy nodded. “On Miss Bingley’s behalf. Her welcome was less than friendly. I do believe she treated you ill.”

“Oh, it was nothing less than I expected,” Elizabeth replied, instantly regretting her choice of words. She did not want him to believe her so arrogant as though she knew she were a rival of Miss Bingley for his affections. But Darcy did not appear to notice her faux pas.

“Miss Bingley has a very self-important view of herself. You should not take her manner personally. She speaks with a similar sharpness of tongue to most women in our company, except,” he corrected, “your sister. She appeared to take an instant liking to her.”

Yes, Elizabeth thought, because she knew Jane had eyes only for her brother.

“Believe me,” replied Elizabeth. “I did not take it personally in the least. Whilst we are on the subject of apologies, I feel I owe one of my own.”

Darcy’s brow lifted, but he stayed silent so Elizabeth continued. “I do believe I made you wrong. Though I have no desire to mention his name, I feel I must. I was misled greatly by Mr Wickham, and I am sorry I believed him and doubted your integrity.”

“No apology is required, I assure you. You were not the first to be deceived by him and I am quite certain you will not be the last.”

Elizabeth was greatly relieved by his acceptance, but she did not feel as though she deserved it. She wanted to say more, but felt it would be better to let the subject lie for the time being. She did not want to ruin their conversation by mentioning Wickham further.

“I trust I now have some knowledge of how it feels to be a goldfish in a bowl,” Darcy said with a low chuckle. “Did you notice how our every move was scrutinised in there?”

Elizabeth returned his smile. “Yes, I did rather. It was most disconcerting.”

“I freely admit, I would have enjoyed your company alone.”

His directness of speaking surprised Elizabeth greatly. Though she had possessed the same wish earlier, she would not have vocalised it to him. She waited for a blush, but it did not make an appearance. Instead, with a calmness that surprised her, she held his gaze with ease and replied, “I would have liked that very much indeed.”

Encouraged by her reply, Darcy said, “Perhaps I can take you on a private tour of the house on your next visit?”

This time, Elizabeth did blush as she wondered if his chamber would be one of the rooms he intended to show her. She found she was not opposed to the idea in the least, on the contrary, she welcomed it. She would give anything to feel the weight of his body again, to have him enter her, thrust wildly into her again and again.

“I would be delighted to receive a personal tour.”

Darcy bowed low, and when he straightened, he took hold of her hand. He held it in his for a moment longer than was proper, then lowered his head and kissed it, just as he had done the day before.

“Until we meet again then,” he said, and helped her into the carriage where she waited a few more moments for Mrs Gardener to arrive.

When Darcy returned to the saloon, Miss Bingley could not help repeating to him some part of what she had been saying to his sister.

“How very ill Miss Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr Darcy,” she cried, “I never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again.”

However little Mr Darcy might have liked such an address, he contented himself with coolly replying that he perceived no other alteration than her being rather tanned, no miraculous consequence of travelling in the summer. Secretly he thought that she looked more radiant than ever, the tan complimented her skin tone excellently.

“For my own part,” she rejoined, “I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin, her complexion has no brilliancy, and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character—there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way, and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I could never see anything extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all, and in her air altogether there is a self-sufficiency without fashion, which is intolerable.”

Persuaded as Miss Bingley was that Darcy admired Elizabeth, this was not the best method of recommending herself, but angry people are not always wise, and in seeing him at last look somewhat nettled, she had all the success she expected. He was resolutely silent, however, and, from a determination of making him speak, she continued, “I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty, and I particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, ‘
She
a beauty!—I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time.”