The Art of Apology (Happiness in Marriage)

Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I t began to rain later the same day, but the weather did nothing to diminish the happiness of six ladies as they spoke of the forthcoming ball. Vital questions, beginning with what they would wear, then moving on to whom they would dance with, whom they wanted to ask them, and returning to their costumes, were debated again and again.

“I shall be cowering in a corner of my book-room, not to be disturbed unless it is absolutely necessary,” Mr Bennet said on Sunday morning. “Recall, I shall never have a useful opinion on what gown suits any of you best.”

Only on Monday, the day before the ball, did the rain begin to ease, though the sky remained covered with clouds and the air felt heavy. Nevertheless, at breakfast, Mr Bennet announced his intention to take the carriage into Meryton.

“I have business at the bookseller’s,” he explained.

Sitting beside him at the table, Elizabeth was able to see the tightness of his jaw and suspected he simply needed an excuse to be away from the house for a short while. She did not blame him; she hated being confined indoors for so long and felt the want of fresh air and exercise. Besides, he had been uncommonly good over the last few days, sitting with his family far more than he would have previously; he did not tease any of them for being silly or stupid, no matter how much they chatted about the ball, or ridicule Kitty and Lydia’s more and more outlandish predictions for what would happen—including several proposals, at least one indecent, and the exposure of an illicit love affair. Where they had got the notion that any such occurrence was probable eluded Elizabeth, and she hoped they did not find the ball too tame for their liking. At the least, if they found it dull, she prayed they would not attempt to liven things up in some inappropriate way. She had been worried enough about it that she had mentioned it to her father the day before, and he had promised to keep a close watch on them.

“But Mr Bennet, it might begin to rain again at any minute,” her mother said, alarm in her voice. “What if you fall ill? You must be well enough to escort us to the ball! Netherfield may well be Jane’s home one day soon?—”

“Mama,” Jane said. Her protest was not sufficient to stop her mother, but her father’s was, to Jane’s evident relief.

“Oh, very well, I shall not speak of it. But the carriage wheels might become stuck in mud. How would we get to the ball if you break some crucial part of our only vehicle?” Mrs Bennet asked.

“Nothing evil will befall me. I am determined to go,” Mr Bennet said with a sharpness Elizabeth had not heard in weeks. Speaking more gently, he added, “I shall be well, my dear. The roads between here and Meryton are excellent, and if it begins to rain again, I shall take shelter at the inn until it passes.”

His eyes flickered to Elizabeth, and she knew he had guessed that she would request to go with him, which she did, already suspecting what would happen and having a plan in place to get her way.

“No. Absolutely not, Lizzy,” her mother said. “I cannot stop your father from risking his life?—”

Before she could continue, Elizabeth said, “But if I accompany Papa, I can ensure he is being careful, and I can go to the haberdashery and anywhere else you or my sisters need. Have we not all mentioned various items we would like for tomorrow? Mary, you wanted new pink ribbons for your gown, and Kitty, one of your gloves is stained.”

With this inducement, her mother approved of her going and, along with her sisters, wrote a shopping list for Elizabeth to take with her. She insisted they organise it into two categories—what was absolutely necessary and what was only desired—else she would need all afternoon, and her father would not agree to such a long excursion.

Once they were in the carriage, he rested his head against the squabs, closed his eyes, and said, “It is good to be out of the house. I do not even care that we may not be gone for long. I trust you understand my feelings.”

He patted her hand, she assured him she did, and he rested quietly for the short ride into Meryton. She almost told him that she was proud of the efforts he was taking with her mother and sisters but expected he would not like her to draw attention to the changes he had made; it was a reminder of the ways he had not been the man they had needed. He had helped her too. His caution about refusing to rethink her first impressions had been invaluable; without it, she might never have let herself know Mr Darcy, and her life would have been poorer for it.

Once in Meryton, they went their separate ways to see to their errands. Elizabeth had just selected a new pair of cream-coloured silk gloves that would perfectly match Kitty’s gown when the door to the shop opened. To her delight, Mr Darcy entered. She smiled broadly; he returned the gesture with a more restrained one. Given he did not demonstrate his feelings as easily as she did—she had noticed that about him some time ago—she felt free to believe he took as much pleasure in their meeting as she did.

“Miss Elizabeth, how do you do? I am surprised to see you here, given the threatening clouds.” He bowed.

“I am well, sir, and I might say the same to you. My father and I leapt at the first opportunity to be somewhere other than at home for a short while. He is at the bookseller’s while I find a few last trinkets my mother and sisters insist they need for tomorrow. I am to meet him there once I have finished. ”

During her speech, he had come to stand next to her and acknowledged the shopkeeper with a polite nod.

“I, too, was glad for the chance to leave Netherfield for an hour or two, though I cannot claim any particular reason to do it other than a desire to see something different. I thought I might go to the bookseller’s and was on my way there when I spied you through the window.”

“Are you on your own?”

He nodded. “I believe Bingley wanted to accompany me, but his sisters requested his assistance as they make final preparations for the ball.”

He chuckled in a way that suggested he had found the entire business rather fatiguing—not that Elizabeth supposed he had any direct role in it. Knowing how much her mother fussed over the arrangements for a dinner party, she could imagine that Mrs Hurst’s and Miss Bingley’s conversation was centred on the decorations, refreshments, supper, music, and guests—to say nothing of their own costumes—all of which were unlikely to hold his interest. His next words showed that she was right.

“I understand it is a large undertaking, and neither lady has had much occasion to host such an affair before. Naturally, they want everything to be as close to perfect as possible. I admit, I have been a little shocked by how much care Miss Bingley is putting into it.” After ensuring no one was listening to them—the shopkeeper had gone to assist another customer—he added, “From the beginning, Bingley’s sisters made it plain that they wished he had taken an estate in a more…fashionable co unty. It has taken them time to recognise Hertfordshire’s charms. I believe it was only after we went to St Albans that their view of the neighbourhood began to change, especially for Miss Bingley, who is too young to remember their mother.”

Again, he looked about them before continuing, this time lowering his voice to little more than a whisper; he leant closer to her. “I have not known whether I should say anything, but I think I should. Forgive me if I am mistaken. Bingley is growing rather fond of Miss Bennet. I am afraid his sisters…” He fixed her with a look that made it seem like he was begging her to understand and save him the awkwardness of saying the rest.

She let out a heavy breath. “They believe he could do better, such as a lady who would bring connexions and a substantial fortune to their marriage?”

He nodded. “Bingley has told them that such things do not matter to him, and I do not anticipate that they will change his opinion, no matter how stubbornly they insist he would be acting imprudently in pursuing your sister. But Miss Bennet should be aware that she should exercise caution in befriending them, although I truly believe they like her. Bingley’s sisters love him, and with time, I expect they will accept that he will not take their opinions into account when it comes to something as important as choosing his wife. I do not say he has decided?—”

“I understand, Mr Darcy,” she interjected. “They have hardly known each other a month. It is too soon for either of them to have determined they would suit.”

They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and Elizabeth was sure her heart stopped beating. Were they speaking only of Jane and Mr Bingley? Did he also feel that the same held true for the two of them? Could he possibly like her enough to think that their friendship might become so much more?

Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—the shopkeeper then returned to them and asked whether Elizabeth had decided on the gloves. Tearing her eyes and thoughts away from Mr Darcy, she added the pair to several other items she had already selected and concluded her purchases. She then invited Mr Darcy to go with her to meet her father, and they proceeded to the bookseller’s, neither speaking. For her part, Elizabeth felt too much and needed the short interlude to gather her thoughts and set them aside until she was alone and could freely contemplate her evolving sentiments for the fine gentleman who was increasingly occupying her mind and heart.