The Art of Apology (Happiness in Marriage)

Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

B ennet was doing his best to live up to the promise he had made to himself to be a better father and husband. Fortunately, the endeavour was becoming easier with each passing day, no doubt helped along by seeing improvements in his ladies. This was especially true regarding Kitty, Lydia, and even more so Mrs Bennet. He could also point to encouraging signs in Mary, and, after Mr Darcy’s recent call, he thought it possible Elizabeth could be added to his list. He was much mistaken if his darling girl had not taken to heart his words about not clinging to her initial assumptions about people. When he and Mr Darcy had returned to the drawing room, Lizzy had not spoken to the gentleman, but she had looked at him frequently, and there had been no disapproval or dislike evident in her expression. If anything, Bennet would say he saw the opposite. And he further believed that Mr Darcy had often turned his gaze to Lizzy.

The implications of them stealing glimpses of each other, of seeming to listen to hear what the other was saying, were not ones Bennet was entirely comfortable with. Indeed, if Mr Darcy did not have a connexion to someone he had once valued as a close friend, and if he had not seen that the young man was genuinely attempting to ameliorate his deportment, he would be tempted to warn him off.

It did not escape Bennet’s notice that both he and Mr Darcy had been forced to improve how they dealt with others. It was possible that made him feel a kinship to him.

I shall say nothing of it to Lizzy. She has seen that I am willing to treat him as a friendly acquaintance, and now I wish to observe how she acts towards him—and he towards her.

He had an opportunity to see the couple together soon after, when they met at a card party held by the Gouldings at Haye-Park.

Elizabeth was at a table with Mr Darcy. Declining to play cards himself, Bennet stood with several other guests who likewise did not wish to take part, and he watched Elizabeth for signs of distress. There were none; if anything, had he not known their history, he would have thought she was speaking to a friend. She smiled and laughed, did not avoid looking at him, and listened closely as he spoke. It was all exceedingly interesting; so much so that twice one of his companions had to repeat themselves because he had not been giving them his attention.

As soon as Elizabeth stepped away from the card table, he pulled her aside. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am, Papa. I do like a rousing game of cards, and I assure you, there was a sufficient amount of intrigue to cheer even the most curmudgeonly amongst us.” She smiled, and her eyes drifted towards Mr Darcy.

“I find it difficult to imagine what intrigue might occur under the present circumstances,” he said.

She laughed. “There was a question of Mrs Stuart having the great luck of securing nearly perfect hands two games in a row—not that anyone would outright accuse her of cheating—and Mr Simms was seen winking and contorting his features in a most odd manner, as though he were attempting to communicate some hint about his cards to his partner, but he claimed there was a lash irritating his eye.”

Bennet chuckled and shook his head. “I would believe Mrs Stuart but not Simms. He has always been willing to do whatever was necessary to win, even at something as inconsequential as a game of cards in a neighbour’s drawing room.” Hoping to surprise her into saying what first came to mind—and was thus the most truthful—he quickly added, “You and Mr Darcy appear to be on better terms.”

His trick did not work. She regarded him for a long moment before saying, “He was polite, amiable even.”

“Is that enough to overlook his misdeeds?”

She glanced towards the gentleman. “Do you object? You demanded that he apologise to me, and he cannot do that if we never speak.”

“Should he not be able to do the deed in under a minute?”

The colour in her cheeks deepened. “When he first spoke to me—in the churchyard, if you recall—I told him he needed to know me before he could genuinely say he was mistaken about what he said of me. For that to happen, we must have a little conversation.”

Bennet pursed his lips and considered his next words, including what might be influencing him either in favour of liking the young man or continuing to dislike and distrust him. “I grant you, he has been more polite this last fortnight or thereabouts, but is that enough? Do you wish me to tell you I no longer require you to avoid him, that you are free to chat to him as you would any other new acquaintance?”

“I suppose I would say yes and yes. I would like to forget the whole thing ever happened. If everyone sees that Mr Darcy and I can speak together easily, that we do not avoid each other or scowl whenever we meet, they will cease to remember what happened at the assembly, and I shall be happier for it.”

Slowly, Bennet nodded. “Very well. But I shall continue to keep a close watch on him. Now, let us find something to drink. Do you think we shall be able to depart soon? I am beginning to long for my book and slippers. These shoes your mother made me wear have never fitted properly.”

The following Tuesday, Elizabeth and her sisters walked into Meryton. The day was pleasant, given it was mid-November, but the breeze was chilly, leading Kitty to complain more than anyone appreciated. Lydia teased her about it, resulting in the pair squabbling, Mary sighed disapprovingly, and Jane attempted to bring peace to the group, going so far as to promise them all some small gift at their favourite shop.

Elizabeth admittedly did her best to overlook all their talk and instead take in the scene around her. She found her thoughts often drifted to Mr Darcy; an event that was increasingly frequent. It was just over one month since they had met. That night, she had been certain she would despise him for the rest of her life. Currently, her feelings were a jumble. She would readily admit that she liked him, but it was an odd sort of liking; it seemed different from how she viewed Mr Bingley, for instance. She had known the two gentlemen the same length of time, and as much as she found the latter amusing and easy company, Mr Darcy was… more. She could think of no other word that fitted quite as well.

I shall only sort it out if I spend time with him. That was not a disagreeable prospect, and she could use the excuse that she had to speak to him whenever the occasion arose so that he might properly apologise. Not that anyone apart from her father had yet asked her why she did not mind talking to the man who had spoken so meanly of her in public. It was a little strange that Jane had not, but she was caught up in her budding romance with Mr Bingley, and Charlotte had not seen Elizabeth and Mr Darcy together enough for her to question the matter.

Soon they were entering the market town. Having made up their disagreement, Lydia and Kitty walked ahead of their sisters. At the other side of the street, Elizabeth saw a soldier, his red coat standing out against the white and grey buildings; with him stood another man whom she did not recognise.

Lydia pointed and cried, “I think it is Mr Denny! Who is with him? Come, Kitty.”

“Lydia, you are not to run after the officers. What would Papa say?” Jane said in a low voice, glancing about to see whether she was in danger of being overheard.

Lydia stopped walking to turn to Jane. “Papa is not here.”

“Very true,” Elizabeth said. “But you can be sure that I shall tell him if you do not comport yourself as a young lady.”

Lydia stamped her foot and muttered a few words Elizabeth was glad she did not hear; the most likely outcome was a row and a quick return to Longbourn. It was enough that Mary murmured, “You are such children,” evidently meaning her two younger sisters, who had begun whining that they were never permitted to have any fun.

Jane, ever seeking to appease, said, “Since we know Mr Denny, and since I see that he and his companion are approaching us, we may speak to them for a few minutes.”

Mr Denny greeted them and introduced his friend, Mr George Wickham, who had lately come to Meryton to join the regiment. Elizabeth was struck by Mr Wickham’s good looks and his open expression, which indicated he was pleased with everything he saw—from the town to, if she was not mistaken, the young ladies he had just met. With Mary silently standing beside her, Elizabeth spoke to him; Jane remained with their younger sisters and Mr Denny, who had lately returned from a brief trip to London.

“Have you known Mr Denny long?” Elizabeth asked.

“Oh, some years.” Mr Wickham smiled at her before his eyes again examined the street. “I must say, Meryton looks exactly as he described it. Excellent shops and agreeable proprietors, I hope.”

Elizabeth and Mary exchanged a glance; it was an odd comment, and she found his lack of attention a little rude. “Does it?” she said.

“Wh—? Oh, forgive me, ladies. Meryton appears to be a charming town. Really quite charming.” His eyes swept over her features and then Mary’s. “Denny and I happened to see each other a day or two ago. He told me how glad he was that his regiment was stationed here. After that, it took little convincing for me to agree to accompany him on his return. I have wanted occupation, you see, and the militia will provide it. I am quite alone in the world, and belonging to a company, a band of brothers so to speak, was an attractive notion.”

“I pray you will find the sense of fellowship you desire,” Mary said.

Elizabeth was on the point of asking him where his family had been from, when she caught a glimpse of horses approaching and was distracted by realising it was Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley.