The Art of Apology (Happiness in Marriage)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

E lizabeth walked away from Mr Darcy, her head swimming with confusion and other feelings she could not identify. Hearing him speaking to his dog, his tone a mix of pleading, exasperation, and fondness, made her giggle.

“Come on, Bud. We must return to the house, and you are too heavy for me to carry all the way. You are not a puppy any longer, and I am not Georgiana. I promise, I shall let you sleep by the fire all afternoon.”

How much had happened in the last quarter of an hour! She supposed it might have been twenty minutes or longer; she could not tell how much time had passed while she had been pleasantly—how could that be?—with him. It was more than just this one interval that added to how unsettled she felt; there was what her father had said to her after the Lucases’ party. Was she really so stubborn that she refused to alter her first impressions of people? And she must add her past encounters with Mr Darcy, including the last time they had unexpectedly met while she was walking alone. Today, what had most struck Elizabeth was the added element of humbleness in his comportment. He had seemed embarrassed by Budge—which he had no cause to be; the dog was very sweet—and truly desirous of correcting the mistakes he had made. When he had first apologised to her, it had been done in such an offhanded manner, clearly something he felt compelled to do without meaning the words he spoke, which is why she had refused to accept. Could it be that he was sincere? Did he genuinely feel he had disappointed himself and his friend?

“What is certain is that he is trying to know me, just as I said he must,” she murmured. It was important for her to hear the words to truly believe them, so unexpected was the sentiment. But perhaps it should not be, not after how he had spoken of her family to Mrs Best and her son.

Elizabeth decided the only possible course was to see how Mr Darcy acted towards her and others in the coming days. At the very least, she might accept that his behaviour in October had been unusual for him, that her animosity was the result of an unfortunate introduction to the gentleman because she had not seen him as he truly was. Why his mood had been so bad that it led him to be arrogant and insulting was puzzling—and he ought not to have been amongst others during such a period—but it would be wrong of her to be unwilling to forgive it if he proved that was not a reflection of the person he commonly was or wanted to be.

And perhaps the task might be more easily undertaken given Mr Darcy’s…attractions. She could not deny that he was handsome, and his trim, athletic form only added to his appeal. As did him having a lazy dog with a silly name whom he evidently spoilt.

Elizabeth saw Mr Darcy again while she was taking a walk before breakfast two days later. She could not entirely call this encounter accidental because she had acknowledged to herself that she very well might see him—especially since she chose the same path upon which their previous meetings had happened. He was alone and explained that Budge had been immovable in his refusal to accompany Darcy on a long ramble through the countryside.

“He truly is the laziest dog I have ever known,” he said. “He would have been better suited to be Georgiana’s companion, but…”

“Would you think me fanciful if I say I believe dogs and cats have a sense of who needs them? Not all of them, to be sure, but since Budge has chosen you, it must be because he believes you need him.”

Mr Darcy gave her an incredulous look and seemed unwilling to answer her question.

“He might feel you need to slow down, enjoy your life more,” she continued. “Are you often rushing about, not taking the time to sit and relish whatever you are doing without jumping into something else?”

“Sleep the day away as he does?” His tone was humorous, and she laughed, after which he added, “I shall not comment on your…interesting view, but I have de cided to add an entry to my list of things I know about Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

There was nothing in his voice to suggest he was ridiculing her, no hint that he considered her silly, and she was rather pleased. She suspected that he was reserved by nature, which she could not fault, but that he could be livelier under the right circumstances. He needs practice and not to feel that people would judge him.

“What is it, sir, or is it to be a secret?” she asked.

“You like to laugh.” He regarded her, one eyebrow slightly higher than the other, as though daring her to deny it.

“I do! I find it lightens the spirit. I know I always feel better if I can laugh at some misfortune or, if not at it, then something close to it. For instance, I might not joke about a fall that resulted in badly scraping my hand, but I would laugh at how large the bandages make my hand look.”

“While I hesitate to mention that evening, I thought you might have laughed at what I said. About you, I mean.”

Elizabeth took a moment before responding. They were managing to speak without arguing, and she might even be willing to say that she liked his company, if the right person asked at the right time. It was no hardship to speak to him—he was interesting and knowledgeable, and his voice seemed to warm her, like a thick blanket on a cool evening. Since she had last seen him, she had spent a considerable amount of time reflecting on how quickly her view of him was improving. She did not want to do anything to disrupt their growing accord by saying the wrong thing.

“I believe I did,” she said slowly. They had stopped walking and stood facing each other, a field in which cattle grazed on one side, a stream on the other. Between the noises from either side, she and Mr Darcy were being treated to a unique concert. Her eyes were on his, her head tilted slightly to the left. He encouraged her to speak freely, and she admitted, “I do not know whether I was bothered by what you said at first. With everything that has happened afterwards, I might be misremembering my sentiments. I do know that I ceased to find it amusing once I realised how many other people were talking about it, some who appeared too pleased that you had slighted me—which says nothing good about their characters. Upon occasion, I have wondered whether my father treating it as seriously as he did made the entire situation more… more than it would have been had he treated it as a joke, as I had anticipated he would.”

Mr Darcy lowered his eyes and nodded his head several times, giving the appearance that he was carefully contemplating everything she had said. “It was a serious matter, and Mr Bennet was right to tell me so. It has taken me longer than it should have to admit that, as you know.” He sighed. “If a gentleman had spoken of my sister in that manner, I would be every bit as angry as your father was.”

She gave him a quick smile and gestured that they should resume walking. “I should thank you.”

“For what? ”

“You see, I have long been my father’s favourite daughter. He was affected by knowing you had looked at me and found me lacking, and?—”

“Miss Elizabeth?—”

She unconsciously touched his arm to stop him from assuring her he regretted his behaviour at the assembly, as she assumed he meant to. “Do not forget what I said earlier. I have a tendency to tease. People, that is, not animals. You need not worry about Budge, should I be fortunate enough to meet him again.” He chuckled, and she continued. “A consequence has been that my father is spending more time with my younger sisters. All of us, really, but I believe they need the most attention. I told you the other morning that I was learning duets with Mary and helping Kitty and Lydia with their French studies. It is all at the request of my father. He hopes they will improve.” Suddenly, she was alarmed that she had told him, of all people, such a personal thing about her family. Feeling hot and cold at once, her voice was rough as she said, “I have said enough about it. Really, I ought not to have mentioned it at all. Pray forgive me. I-I should?—”

He interrupted her before she could say that she would leave him. “Think nothing of it. Truly, Miss Elizabeth. If it helps, I shall vow to forget the last few minutes of our conversation.”

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath, slowly exhaling it until she felt the pounding of her heart ease. “Will you tell me something about yourself?” She hoped he would understand her need for a moment to fully regain her composure. If he did, she would add it to the list she was beginning to make of reasons to like him. He had given her the idea by talking of keeping a similar one regarding her.

“I despise dancing. That might be overstating it, but not by much. I find it marginally more agreeable when I know my partner well, and I do dance when I feel it is my duty—such as with Bingley’s sisters at the assembly—but I do not enjoy it.”

“That must be difficult, given how frequently dancing is involved in our entertainments. I imagine it is even more common in your circle.” She wanted to know whether there was a reason for his dislike, but it would be rude to ask.

He made a noise of agreement. “I do not believe I ever looked forward to it. Even as I was learning to dance, I did not find it diverting, but as I entered society as a young man, and especially after my father’s death, I grew to hate it. I always feel as though I am being closely observed and spoken—gossiped—about, not without reason. You might wonder why I am telling you this. I do not do it to excuse my behaviour at the assembly, but it might help explain a part of the reason why I was unconscionably uncivil. We had not been there a quarter of an hour before I heard people talking about my estate, annual income, and connexions. I do not know how word of them seems to spread so quickly.”

“I can explain, at least for that occasion. Mrs Hurst. A lady asked about her brother’s friend. I was nearby, and while I did not hear everything she said, I learnt quite a bit.” Elizabeth laughed awkwardly, worrying she had again said too much and that, if he was offended, he might argue with Mrs Hurst or his friend. “Perhaps I ought not to have told you!”

“No, no,” he interjected, sounding unconcerned. “I am glad to know. It does not surprise me all that much. If I had bothered to guess, I would have realised she or her sister was the most likely source.”

They lapsed into silence for a while until he asked her what pieces she and Mary were practising on the pianoforte. Through their subsequent discussion, she discovered that he knew a great deal about music, although he played no instruments and claimed his singing was best described as ‘awful’. They continued on this topic until it was time for her to return to Longbourn. She had almost suggested that if he apologised, she would accept, but she could not bring herself to speak the words. It took most of the morning for her to realise it was because he might no longer feel the need to spend time with her once the deed was done. Having someone new to speak to was always appreciated, but that it was him was wonderful. She assumed he would not remain in the neighbourhood much longer, but while he did, why might she not enjoy his company?

There was one reason: her father’s demand that she should have nothing to do with the gentleman. But she would deal with that complication when it became necessary. At present, Elizabeth preferred to anticipate seeing Mr Darcy again.