What Would Mr. Darcy Do? (7 page)

Jane’s departure, however, left Elizabeth without a confidante, an unhappy position she hoped would be relieved by the upcoming arrival of Miss Darcy, who would no doubt be more than happy to discourse with her on the subject of her brother. In the meantime, she made every effort to absent herself from her family when possible by means of long walks and errands in Meryton.

One day, after a return from such an expedition, she arrived home to the news that her mother had yet again confined herself to her rooms with a fit of nerves, and all Elizabeth’s requests for information regarding the source of the crisis resulted in either giggles from Kitty or judgmental looks from Mary. Finally, with some exasperation, she went to the library to apply to her father regarding the matter.

“Ah, Lizzy, you are precisely the person I need to see. Please sit down,” he greeted her.

“I was hoping, sir, you could explain to me what has led to my mother’s distress in this latest instance.”

“An interesting question, since you seem to be very much at the center of this,” he said, and in response to Elizabeth’s raised eyebrow, continued, “Apparently Hill, while cleaning your room today, made a certain discovery, which, then being represented to your mother, led to further search and further discovery. This in turn led to your mother’s attack of nerves, and the job falling to me to inquire about the presence of certain items in your room.”

Elizabeth’s mind jumped immediately to Darcy’s letters, and she felt a surge of anxiety that the long-delayed discussion was about to occur. “Which items do you have in mind, sir?”

Mr. Bennet produced Darcy’s handkerchief and most recent note. Laying them down in front of her, he proceeded to drum his fingers lightly on his desk while watching her closely.

She found herself wishing desperately Darcy were beside her, or at Netherfield, and if not Darcy, at least Jane. She hated to see her father disappointed in her, his favorite child, but even for him, she was not prepared to forswear Darcy.

“Now, what am I to make of these?” he asked finally.

Elizabeth reverted to the use of her wit. “I have an admirer with excellent taste in poetry and a preference for fine linen.”

Her father’s lips twitched. “Perhaps, Lizzy, you would care to enlighten me somewhat further regarding this mysterious gentleman with the initials of FD.”

Recalling with a start that Darcy signed the letter only with his initials, she debated with herself whether her father was in fact perfectly aware of his identity, or was truly in ignorance. Perhaps he considered Darcy such an unlikely candidate for her affections as not to be on a list of possibilities. If it were at all possible, she would prefer to postpone the confrontation regarding Darcy until she could face it with his support, and the possibilities for delay appealed to her mischievous side. “He is a young man from whom you will be hearing in good time, whose intentions are honorable, and whose resources will be sufficient to support me.”

“And his name is…?”

“His name will certainly be a surprise to you when he approaches you.”

Mr. Bennet, evidently amused by her evasions, said, “Lizzy, I have informed your mother that in light of your good sense, I can only assume that your anonymous friend is someone you met on your travels, perhaps in Kent. While I would have preferred to be approached by the gentleman in question before he began sending you compromising letters, I could perhaps overlook it if the circumstances warrant. I will warn you, however, that if by some unlikely chance your FD should prove to be a person of our acquaintance with those initials, you may safely assume that I will not look favorably on the match, given he is someone I can neither like nor respect. I find it hard to believe, however, that your judgment could fail you to such an extent.”

She had not expected this level of disapproval. In increasing distress, Elizabeth confined herself to saying as calmly as possible, “It is my firm belief my choice is an impeccable one, and I will hope to eventually have your agreement on that. Apart from that, I will only say that I am resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness.”

“Well, Lizzy, in that case, all I can say is I hope my faith in your good sense is not misplaced. I remind you that your mother may be less forgiving in the matter of your refusal to name names than I am.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” she said dryly as she took her leave of him, attempting to conceal her feelings of disappointment and resentment.

Irritably snatching up her bonnet, she strode outside, ignoring the calls of her sisters. She set off at a fast pace, not knowing in which direction she went, and at length found herself in the back corner of the gardens where she had so lately been with Darcy. Surrounded by her memories of his gentleness and passion, she attempted to face the painful reality of her father’s words. To her surprise, she found her father’s refusal to approve the match was exactly calculated to make her clearly understand her own wishes for the first time, and she admitted to herself at last that she would indeed offer Darcy a positive response to his proposals on his return, with or without the blessing of her family.

She could not, however, give up the matter of her father as hopeless. The Gardiners would be at Longbourn for the wedding, and she would beg them to intercede with Mr. Bennet on her behalf. Perhaps he would listen to their greater knowledge of Darcy, and with their support and Jane’s, perhaps it might come to a satisfactory resolution after all.

“Lizzy!” Kitty ran up to her, bonnet askew and windblown. “There you are! You sly thing, why didn’t you tell me? I would have helped you, just like I helped Lydia!”

Elizabeth, with a sigh, crossed her arms and looked heavenward in dismay.

“But who would have thought it? We all thought you so proper, and all the while you were meeting secretly with Denny!”

“With Denny?” Elizabeth asked in confusion.

“Did Father tell you that I was the one who figured it out? I knew his first name was Frederick, and I knew that he admired you, and then Father said, ‘So that was the source of all her information about Wickham!’ You should have seen his face!”

“Kitty,” Elizabeth said with incredulity, “do you mean to say he thinks I have been having a liaison with Mr. Denny? Wickham’s friend Denny?”

Kitty nodded excitedly.

“The one who helped cover up Lydia’s elopement?” Elizabeth’s disbelief went beyond words.

“Of course, but you were so sly! I never guessed, in all the times I saw you together, that you were partial to him. Oh, wait till Lydia hears!”

“If you will excuse me,” Elizabeth said abruptly, and started back to the house in a fury. To think her father could even consider for a moment that she was accepting advances from Denny! Well, she would set him to rights, and have words to say about his faith in her judgment as well! At least she need not worry about how he would react to the truth; compared to the amoral and impoverished Denny, Darcy would seem positively heaven-sent.

The thought brought her to a sudden stop. Recalling all her parents’ harsh words and ingrained prejudices about Darcy, the idea came to her that it might not be such a poor idea to let them continue to worry about the prospect of Denny as a son-in-law for a few days. By that point, her father might well be ready to welcome Darcy with open arms. A mischievous smile began to cross her face.

It was something of a revelation to Elizabeth to discover the extent to which she could enjoy deceiving her family. During the next two days, she sat through several harangues from Mrs. Bennet on the state of her nerves, moralistic lectures from Mary on the evils of loss of reputation, Kitty’s constant pleas for details, and Mr. Bennet’s concerned looks, to all of which she replied with a refusal to provide any further information and a smiling assurance that they had no cause for concern. When Mrs. Bennet began to threaten she would write to Mr. Gardiner and ask him to settle matters with Denny as he had with Wickham, Elizabeth could not restrain her laughter as she told her mother she was certain Mr. Gardiner would see no cause for concern in her involvement with FD. The frequent use of the word “shameless” as applied to her was further cause for her amusement.

Nonetheless, she had good intentions of confessing the truth once Miss Darcy arrived, feeling it would be quite unfair to her to expect her participation in the charade. While they were awaiting their guest, however, Mrs. Bennet announced that there would be absolutely no mention of Lizzy’s shamelessness in front of Miss Darcy, thus relieving Elizabeth of the necessity of immediate confession—and the attendant scene Miss Darcy would witness—before her guest even had the opportunity to settle in.

Miss Darcy’s arrival went smoothly; she was clearly pleased to see Elizabeth, and Mrs. Bennet’s degree of overcivility did not seem to trouble her in the least. She was amiable with Kitty and Mary, though Elizabeth, with a slightly more experienced eye, could see she was, in fact, anxious about the interchange, but attempting to battle her shyness. Mary, who had heard so much about Miss Darcy’s vaunted skill at the pianoforte that she was determined not to be outdone in civility as she was likely to be in music, insisted on taking Georgiana on the full tour of Longbourn and its grounds. Kitty, who was closest to her age, was delighted to keep her company as her trunks were unpacked, for the pleasure of remarking over each dress and bonnet as it emerged. By dinnertime they were all referring to each other by their first names. Between one sister and the other, it was near evening before Elizabeth had a chance to spend some time alone with Miss Darcy.

After they reassured one another of their delight in seeing the other, it was apparent to Elizabeth that Georgiana was still somewhat in awe of her, and very anxious to please. She attempted to put those anxieties to rest with warm inquiries about her time at Pemberley, their common acquaintances, and of course, Darcy. This led naturally to a rather timid question regarding Mr. and Mrs. Bennet’s ignorance of Darcy’s admiration of Elizabeth.

Elizabeth laughed. “Given the timing of your visit, you will very likely have the pleasure of witnessing exactly why I have allowed this state of affairs to persist. My parents, I am sorry to say, harbor some strong prejudices against your brother, and, though I have attempted to moderate their views, my success has been quite limited.”

“When I said something to your sisters about what a good brother he is, they looked quite disbelieving! I did not know what to say.”

“I am hardly surprised,” Elizabeth said with a smile.

“But what reason could they possibly have to dislike him?”

“It is in fact quite an ironic story, in hindsight. It all began when he made a slighting comment about me at a public assembly, and refused to dance with me since I did not meet his standards.”

“Oh,” cried Georgiana. “So that is why he said that you…” she trailed off in embarrassment.

“Pray, now you have aroused my curiosity, what
did
he say?”

Georgiana blushed. “I shouldn’t have said anything… it was a long time ago. He said that he had given you every reason to dislike him, and I couldn’t understand what he could be talking about. I couldn’t ask him about it, because that was when he was barely talking to anyone at all, and I knew I was lucky he had said as much as he did, but I always wondered what he meant.”

“When was this?”

“Oh, after he returned from visiting Aunt Catherine last spring.” The words began tumbling out of her, as if she had been barely holding them back for months. “It was so awful, Elizabeth! He was so quiet all the time, and if anyone asked him why, he would just stalk off, and he wouldn’t even see his friends most of the time. If I tried to be sympathetic, he would tell me to save my pity for someone who deserved it, and then he’d try to put a good face on it, and that was even worse. And then, after a while, he seemed to just give up, and he didn’t even get angry anymore; it was just as if he didn’t care about anything anymore.”

The pain Elizabeth felt on hearing this was as great as could be imagined. “I had no idea,” she said with tears in her eyes. “I knew he must be angry and disappointed, but I assumed he would move on quickly—after all, there seemed to be no shortage of women who would be overjoyed to receive his addresses.”

“Move on? How could you think that?” Georgiana asked. “Fitzwilliam
never
lets go of anyone, and he never stops caring.”

“I am not certain I understand your meaning,” Elizabeth responded cautiously.

“Haven’t you noticed? He almost never lets himself care about anyone, but once he does, he is more loyal than anyone in the world. You have seen him with Bingley—since Bingley is his dear friend, he is willing to tolerate those horrible sisters of his—I know, I shouldn’t say such things, but it’s true—when any other man would have nothing to do with them. He puts up with Aunt Catherine, when I cannot even stand to be in the same room as her. He forgives everything in those he cares about—I should know—and never blames. If he had never seen you again, he would still have been hurt ten years from now, just like with…” Georgiana stopped short, her face frozen.

“Just like what?” Elizabeth asked gently, astonished by the insights she was receiving.

“Just like with George Wickham,” Georgiana whispered, and burst into tears.

Elizabeth, feeling the greatest sympathy, moved rapidly to embrace the sobbing girl, murmuring words of comfort.

It took Georgiana several minutes to regain her composure. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I feel so awful when I think of how I hurt Fitzwilliam. I didn’t know at the time, of course, but that makes no difference.”

“My dear, please remember you are far from the only one taken in by Mr. Wickham. I myself believed his stories, and was charmed by him. All my family, indeed all of Meryton, delighted in him. You could not be expected to do more.”

“But it wasn’t so much what I did as what he did to my brother. How could anyone be so cruel?”

“What did he do to your brother?” asked Elizabeth with apprehension.

“I did not know the whole story then, because I had been too young when it happened, but afterward I started asking questions of people who knew him. Mrs. Reynolds told me most of this.” She faltered for a moment. “He and Fitzwilliam were the best of friends when they were boys. As they became older, George apparently became resentful of the differences in their expectations, and began doing and saying terrible things to Fitzwilliam, but he was loyal and would never believe George did it on purpose. He caused trouble, knowing that Fitzwilliam would always try to cover up any problems he caused, even if it meant he himself was punished. The harder my brother would try to protect him and keep his friendship, the worse things George would do. This went on for years and years, until finally something must have been too much, I don’t know what, but at some point even Fitzwilliam seemed to give up on him and started to avoid him, but even then he must have hoped that things might change in the future. The financial settlement he gave him was more than generous, I know. But then, the next time George approached him for help, Fitzwilliam refused, which had never happened before. And shortly thereafter, George tried to hurt him in the worst way he could, and he used me to do it. You would only need to have seen his face when he looked at George to see how pained he was that his old friend would do such a thing to him. But I shouldn’t be telling you all this!”

“I’m very glad you did,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “It helps me understand certain matters that have puzzled me in the past. Though I can only imagine how painful it was to watch Wickham deliberately hurt your brother, I must be clear with my opinion that
you
actually had little to do with it. If, as you say, his goal was to hurt your brother, he would simply have found another means of doing so had you been unavailable. I must say Wickham seems to show quite remarkable creativity in that regard.”

“Someday I may even come to believe that myself, but you must have patience with me.”

“Healing always does take patience, Georgiana, and healing from betrayal even more so.”

“Elizabeth, I wish you really were my sister! Please, accept Fitzwilliam soon—he needs you so much!”

“I think that you need not worry; he and I are, I believe, quite close to reaching an agreement.”

“But if your parents still dislike him so, what will they do when they find out?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Actually, I am currently engaged in a stratagem I believe will improve their outlook considerably,” she told her in a conspiratorial tone. “The truth is I am currently in deep disgrace with my family, owing to the fact they have determined that I am engaged in a liaison with a militia officer of rather uncertain morals.”

Georgiana’s eyes grew wide, clearly unsure if she was serious or in jest, but Elizabeth relieved her mind immediately. “They based this conclusion on finding in my possession a rather compromising letter signed with his initials, which happen to be FD. I have refused to comment on the matter, which is taken as a sign of guilt, but I believe that by the time they discover that FD is your brother, they will be so relieved he is not Mr. Frederick Denny all the ill will of the past will be forgotten!”

Georgiana clapped her hand over her mouth in surprise, then burst into delighted giggles. “No, you are teasing me. I cannot believe it!”

“I am afraid it is quite true—I’m sure Kitty or Mary would be happy to fill you in on the details of my supposed affair. But you should feel no need to participate in the fiction; sooner or later I will have to tell them the truth.”

“I won’t say a word!” Georgiana’s eyes gleamed. “I might even have a bit more compromising material, if you need it.” She drew out a well-sealed envelope and handed it to Elizabeth. “I was told very strictly only to give this to you when I was sure we were alone.”

With a laugh, Elizabeth assured her that Darcy would soon be accusing her of corrupting his little sister if she started participating in such conspiracies, a description which made Georgiana giggle even more.

***

Elizabeth made no effort to find privacy to read her letter, and even on retiring for the night, found herself merely taking it out and looking at it without opening it. She ran her fingers lightly over the Darcy seal, conscious of feeling she did not deserve to receive any recognition from him at all.

How little she really knew him! And how great, apparently, was his devotion to her. Recalling Georgiana’s description of his despair after her refusal, tears began to fall down her cheeks. She had wondered about his disappointment, but it never occurred to her she might have caused him lasting distress. How she wished she had been more temperate in her words that day at Hunsford, that she had given him a chance to explain instead of pouring out her anger at him! A vivid memory came to her of Darcy’s face when she accused him on Wickham’s behalf—what worse could she have done? She did not deserve him, she thought to herself, but she would do everything in her power to make certain she never hurt him again. Gently, she broke the seal and opened the letter.

My dearest Elizabeth,

I feel I have so much to tell you, yet when I try to set it down, I find that I am, as the poet says, “as an imperfect actor on the stage who with his fear is put beside his part,” and so am I “oe’rcharged with burden of mine own love’s might,” and have not the words to express my thoughts. You are in my mind at every moment, and whenever anything of import happens, I find myself wondering what you would say, what you would think, if you were beside me. As I walk, I notice the sights around me as if for the first time, and hope that they will please you. I know it to be selfish of me, but I feel as if you somehow belong at Pemberley—as if Pemberley itself will not be complete until you are here, yet I know myself to be the one who feels incomplete without you. I miss the sound of your voice, the look in your eyes, your laugh—and I am certain you know which memories haunt my nights.—It causes me to wonder what has happened to the Darcy of the past who would never have violated proprieties so much as to write such a line, much less have given cause for the same, and all I can know is that he vanished when you first smiled on me.—I envy Georgiana, that she will have the privilege of being in your presence, while I must remain here without you. Until we meet again, know that all my love and devotion are yours.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

She shed a few more tears over her letter, thinking how fortunate she was to have not only gained his love in the first place, but also to be given another, much undeserved chance. She took a deep, somewhat ragged breath, and knew what it was she needed to do.

Picking up a lamp, she walked downstairs to the library where she knew Mr. Bennet would, by habit, be reading late into the night. She knocked lightly on the door, and entered in response to his call.

He looked at her inquisitively over his glasses, not putting aside his book. “Yes, Lizzy?”

Taking a deep breath, she said, “Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

“What about him?”

She glanced heavenward for a moment, asking for patience. “FD. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

Mr. Bennet carefully laid down his book and removed his glasses. “Are you attempting to suggest
Mr. Darcy
sent you that… love note?” he asked with a certain degree of incredulity.

Elizabeth lifted her chin. “That is indeed the case.”

“Lizzy,” he said, looking grave, “are you out of your senses, to be accepting the attentions of that man? Have not you always hated him?”