The Art of Apology (Happiness in Marriage)

Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

B ingley chatted incessantly as they rode to Longbourn the next morning, though Darcy only half listened. He felt unaccountably anxious about seeing the Bennets again, especially Mr Bennet and Miss Elizabeth. It was a ridiculous sentiment—was he not an adult, one with an enviable position? He liked to think of himself as a person who was used to confronting difficult situations with resolve and authority. But there it was; he was nervous. Perhaps it was knowing that Mr Bennet had been an intimate friend to his cousin Frederick, a man Darcy looked up to as an uncle, partly due to the difference in their ages but also because his father had often said that Frederick was like the brother he had never had. It might also be because Mr Bennet stood between Darcy and his wish to know Miss Elizabeth better. At first, that had been a necessity, but, more and more, he realised that he relished spending time with her regardless of his desire to earn her forgiveness. It had become vitally important that she thought well of him. His actions had placed him in a difficult, even shameful, position, and thanks to her, he had taken steps to become a better man. To be sure, Bingley and Mr Bennet had played a part, but Darcy preferred to think of only Miss Elizabeth having such a pivotal role in his life. He did not question why; that was a matter for another day, after they had known each other for longer than a few weeks.

That was, if he was given the opportunity to know her further.

Arriving at Longbourn, they were shown into the drawing room. He immediately looked for Miss Elizabeth; their eyes met briefly before she averted her gaze. Darcy was almost certain she had given him a quick smile and that she was pleased to see him—as well as hesitant to show that to her family. With luck, after he spoke to Mr Bennet today, the gentleman would loosen his restrictions on him and his daughter conversing.

The two youngest daughters and their father were absent, but Mrs Bennet’s enthusiastic welcome more than made up for any they might have contributed. Her attention was chiefly for Bingley, but Darcy was not forgotten.

“So kind of you to call on us,” she said. “Jane was honoured to receive your sisters’ invitation, Mr Bingley. Naturally, she would have liked to have seen you as well. Is that not true, Jane? But here you are. Please, do sit. Mary, ring the bell for refreshments. Jane, I am sure Mr Bingley would like to know how you enjoyed your day at Netherfield. Oh, Mr Darcy, so good of you to accompany your friend, I am sure. We can have no objections, not after the other night. You know what I mean. Naturally, Mr Bennet spoke to Mr Best about it—you can be sure his set-down was every bit as sharp as the one he gave—” She stopped abruptly and tittered awkwardly before continuing. “Mr Bennet says I should forget about what that horrible, gossiping woman said.”

“And so we should, Mama,” Miss Elizabeth said, glancing at him. “Mr Darcy was kind to speak so favourably about us, but I suspect he is the sort of gentleman who would prefer not to receive too many thanks.”

“Miss Elizabeth is correct,” he said. “I did only what was right, and I hoped to ensure that she—and others—did not have the mistaken impression that I would listen to people disparaging your family or anyone else so wholly undeserving of such cruelty.”

Miss Bennet and Bingley were sitting together, already lost to the rest of their party, and Mrs Bennet indicated a wing chair she evidently thought Darcy might prefer. It was close to her, suggesting she meant to entertain him and leave her eldest daughter to the gentleman who gave every sign of developing a tendre for her. Bingley would be an enviable match for Miss Bennet; thus Mrs Bennet’s actions might be an attempt to secure a wealthy gentleman. In other words, she was being mercenary. But could he criticise her for it? Was her behaviour really so different from that of many others with young ladies to settle in marriage, including those in his social circle? Acknowledging he would not have considered the situation in this light a month ago—no doubt dismissing Mrs Bennet as scheming and vulgar—he silently thanked Miss Elizabeth. She had inadvertently forced him to see the people about him in a kinder light. It was one of the many reasons he was finding to appreciate knowing her.

Miss Mary had returned to her seat and picked up her needlework. To Darcy’s relief, Miss Elizabeth took the place next to her mother on an old-fashioned settee.

“Mama, I have heard that Mr Darcy’s estate is in Derbyshire. Does not Aunt Gardiner have a connexion to that county?” she said. She was turned slightly towards her mother, but she frequently glanced at him. It allowed her to be involved in the conversation—perhaps even direct it—without speaking to him and disobeying her father.

“Is it?” Mrs Bennet said. “Now that I think of it, I do recall hearing that. And yes, you are correct, my sister-in-law does have a connexion to Derbyshire. How clever of you to recollect that detail, Lizzy.” She patted Miss Elizabeth’s hand and turned to him as she continued. “My Lizzy is a particularly clever girl. Everyone says so. That is why she is Mr Bennet’s favourite. Not to say he does not equally love our other girls, or that they lack intelligence, it is just that?—”

“I am sure Mr Darcy realises that,” Miss Elizabeth said softly. “Do you recall where my aunt resided?”

The matron dabbed at her cheek with a lace handkerchief before responding. “It has been some time since I last heard her speak of it, but my brother did say they were thinking of travelling to Derbyshire next year or the year after. Or perhaps they would go to the Lakes. How lovely it must be to travel! My husband is not fond of it, you see, and I do not suppose I would find it easy to spend quite so long in the carriage, but I would like to go to the seaside.”

Her voice had slowed and become quieter as she evidently slipped into a day-dream, which Darcy found amusing—especially when the twitching of Miss Elizabeth’s lips indicated she agreed. She regarded her mother with fondness, and he wished that someone would look at him in a similar manner. In truth, he was almost certain he wished for her to look at him with affection—and more.

“Derbyshire,” Miss Elizabeth whispered, leaning closer to her mother.

Mrs Bennet started. “Oh yes, of course. Let me think… Madeline—my younger brother’s wife, you understand, Mr Darcy—did spend some years of her youth in Derbyshire. It was a town whose name begins with an L. Lipton? Langston?”

“It would not be Lambton, would it, madam?” Darcy asked.

She grinned at him, and it struck him that she was a handsome woman. As a girl, she must have been as beautiful as Miss Bennet, though he doubted she had ever been as reserved. Like her eldest daughter, she was fair haired with bright blue eyes; in Darcy’s opinion, dark-haired Miss Elizabeth was just as lovely, and he had never seen eyes that could capture one like hers did. Indeed, if he was not careful, he would become lost in them immediately, and that would be both inappropriate and embarrassing .

“That is it exactly!” Mrs Bennet cried. “Do you know it?”

“I am indeed familiar with Lambton. It is but five miles from my estate.”

For an interval, he told them about the neighbourhood around Pemberley and listened to Mrs Bennet talk about her brother, his family, and the business of some sort he owned in Cheapside; she was unable to give a clear description of it. Refreshments in the form of tea and lemon cake were served, and he complimented her on both.

“I would have expected nothing less after the excellent dinner I was so fortunate as to enjoy here last month. I do not believe I adequately thanked you for that evening.”

Miss Elizabeth regarded him, her brow arched and eyes dancing. He interpreted her look as saying that she understood he was trying to win over her mother, who had justly despised him, but she thought he was being too obvious about it. Yet, he had judged that Mrs Bennet would not see it that way; she would accept his compliment as her due and be delighted by his flattery.

She thanked him, saying, “Without doubt, we have the best cook in the neighbourhood. Mr Bingley might have brought a French cook from town, I suppose. I do not know, but you would. Has he?” Darcy confirmed that he had, and she continued. “Lady Lucas envies me my cook, and Mrs Best—that horrible woman—has tried to convince her to leave Longbourn and work at Lane Park! Can you believe the audacity to try to steal my cook from me? ”

Darcy soon found himself stuck in a conversation about servants and the competition between houses in the neighbourhood to secure the services of the best ones. Nothing Miss Elizabeth could do would distract Mrs Bennet into a new topic, and he did his best to attend to her politely. Fortunately, after about ten minutes, Mr Bennet entered the room and rescued him by inviting him to his book-room.

Taking the chair across from Mr Bennet, an old walnut table between them, Darcy sat as still as possible while the older gentleman examined him. Despite feeling that he should speak, he was not sure what to say. Instead, he surreptitiously studied the room while he waited for Mr Bennet to begin the conversation. There was plenty in it to interest him beyond the shelves full of books, such as souvenirs that looked like they had come from abroad. It was not nearly as large as the library at Pemberley, which was hardly a surprise, but by all appearances, Mr Bennet had an excellent collection. Given how much Darcy valued books, it made him like Mr Bennet even more. That, in turn, made him wish to improve the gentleman’s view of him.

“I have been attempting to decide whether I am surprised, possibly even affronted, that you are here,” Mr Bennet said.

“Sir?” he managed to say despite how his throat muscles tightened.

“Oh, I know you came to dinner not long after that…what shall we call it? Unfortunate incident at the assembly? I only agreed to you being part of the invitation under duress. In short, my wife and daughters—Lizzy chief amongst them—assured me we could not ask Mr Bingley and his family without including you. You know that I told my girls to have as little to do with you as possible, and Lizzy to avoid you entirely?”

Darcy nodded glumly; this was not going well at all.

“I wish to protect them from those who would injure them. I do not believe you would physically harm them, but words can be damaging.”

“I deeply regret my behaviour that night,” Darcy interjected.

Mr Bennet tilted his head to the side in a manner that reminded Darcy of Miss Elizabeth and peered at him for a long moment. “I think I might believe you. Thus, my surprise. When we spoke the morning after the assembly, I was convinced you would never be willing to accept you might have been wrong. Observing you of late, I begin to think perhaps you have. Certainly, how warmly you spoke of my family at Lucas Lodge gives that impression.”

Good Lord, Darcy thought. Could he be any more uncomfortable? Perhaps if he were sitting here seeking permission to marry one of the man’s daughters. Miss Elizabeth’s image came to mind, and he swatted it away; it had no place here, and really, he could hardly be thinking of her in such a manner, not after so short an acquaintance, especially when they had passed most of it at odds.

“I do not like to hear people disparage others unless they have genuine cause to,” Darcy said. “Perhaps the situation would be different if the other person had cheated them or something such as that. I recognise the irony in my statement, given how I spoke of Miss Elizabeth. It was plain to me that Mrs Best expected me to agree with her, and I could not.” It had also been an opportunity for him to subtly apologise for his behaviour at the assembly to everyone present, and he had grabbed at it.

Mr Bennet offered him a slow nod and a glass of sherry. Darcy accepted, and, after taking a fortifying sip, said, “I had hoped to see you today, sir. I wrote to my cousin about meeting you, and he has replied.”

Darcy showed him the part of the letter in which Frederick Darcy had expressed his delight in hearing news of his old friend and his request that Darcy discover whether Mr Bennet would agree to receive a letter from him—in short, whether he would be willing to renew their correspondence. Therein followed a relatively pleasant interlude in which the two gentlemen spoke about Frederick Darcy and Mr Bennet’s memories of their friendship and time at Oxford. Darcy could not be completely at ease; he felt he had only earned a sliver of Mr Bennet’s trust, and it would vanish if he said a wrong word. Their interview ended with Mr Bennet claiming a hope that he and Frederick would not only write to each other but that they might meet in town or elsewhere.

When the older gentleman indicated they should return to the drawing room, Darcy was satisfied with how their time together had passed. Their conversation had been friendlier than any they had previously had. It was excellent progress, although he felt a lingering sense of disappointment. Mr Bennet had said nothing about Darcy being permitted to speak to Miss Elizabeth or forgiving him the terrible nature of their first meeting. Darcy would be satisfied if he agreed to overlook it, should forgiveness be too much at present.