The Art of Apology (Happiness in Marriage)

Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I t was all Darcy could do not to whisk his Elizabeth away to where they could be alone. He supposed he should not call her his Elizabeth yet; he had not proposed—as tempted as he had been to do so—but regardless, she was his, and he was hers. He was content to wait for the day when their understanding would be a formal one—so long as that day happened within the next two months. Ideally less.

But they were at a ball, and other people had a right to their attention. He did not dance again, since he could not ask her a third time. She had already accepted a request for a set, and while she was with her partner, Darcy sought out Mr Bennet. He had no particular purpose other than having grown to appreciate his company and wanting to be on good terms with the man who would become his father-in-law.

“Ah, Mr Darcy. I do not see Lizzy. Have you lost her?” Mr Bennet said.

“She is dancing with Captain Farmer. I trust your remark was not an indication that you believe I have been spending too much time with her. If you have any such concerns, I beg you would speak to me of them.”

Mr Bennet pursed his lips and shook his head. They were standing near a window—fortunately open to let some much-needed fresh air into the room—and Mr Bennet was turned towards the crowd, not Darcy. That, and the dim candlelight, made it difficult to see his expression.

“I am glad the two of you are on better terms. Since discovering that my old friend is your cousin, I have often reflected that, had we not let our correspondence lapse, you and Lizzy—and my other girls—would have known each other since childhood. It is an interesting notion, is it not? I wonder what difference it would have made to your lives.”

“I suppose we shall never know.” He did not find it helpful to reflect on what might have been; he had done enough of that after Ramsgate. Wickham being in Meryton was one of the issues he needed to sort out in making plans for the coming weeks. He had been considering speaking to Bingley about bringing Georgiana and her companion to Netherfield at Christmas, but he would only do so if he was confident she would not have to see the reprobate. Perhaps he would speak to Mr Bennet about it—and Elizabeth, naturally.

“True. I have been hearing a fair bit of gossip this evening. Recent events have taught me to pay attention to such things.”

When Mr Bennet paused and regarded him out of the corner of his eye, Darcy said, “Oh? ”

“About you.”

“Me?” Darcy exclaimed, alarm shooting through him. What had he heard, and what effect would it have on his relationship with Elizabeth and her family? And why was it taking Mr Bennet so long to tell him?

“There is no doubt. Some of it was said to my wife, and she was quick to mention it to me. I do not know who approached her, but I have heard the same sentiment from several people, and they specifically mention your name.” The gentleman gave him an amused smile. “How happy they—meaning you and my Lizzy—seem together, and what a handsome couple you make. Oddly, my wife had not considered the possibility that you might develop…well, let us just call it an interest in Lizzy. She still has not, as incredible as that sounds. I believe it is a combination of her attention being on another couple and her understanding that we wanted to correct the notion that you found Lizzy lacking. Mrs Bennet was happy to assure me that now no one will ever remember that horrible assembly, as she called it, and although I was not there to witness it myself, I suppose I would give it the same name too. My wife thinks that you and Lizzy are very clever for how you are acting. I found her ignorance—which I shall correct soon—quite diverting, though not for all the gold in the world would I laugh at her.” He made a rueful noise. “I would not now . I believe you and I have both learnt to be more careful with our words, and I know I am much improved for it.”

He continued before Darcy had a chance to devise a response. “Then there was Sir William, who said to me that you seem to find my daughter handsome and more tolerable company now. I shall not speak to him for at least a week for that. I would prefer not to hear that word for a decade. It is becoming too much of a joke in the neighbourhood, and it has never been and never will be at all diverting. He also went on about the pair of you taking an interesting—his word, not mine—path to liking each other, and that it reminded him of something from one of his wife’s novels. How, I ask myself, does he know what is in the astonishingly silly books I know Lady Lucas and my wife both enjoy so much?” Mr Bennet turned to face Darcy directly. “What do you have to say to all that?”

Darcy considered making a quip about not being familiar with Mrs Bennet’s reading habits but thought better of it. “I suppose it will be an entertaining tale to share with future generations.”

Mr Bennet grinned and patted his arm. “I look forward to sharing it with them, with an embellishment or two just for fun.”

Darcy chuckled, and they returned to observing the dancing.

Two days after the ball, Mr Darcy called at Longbourn. He brought Mr Bingley with him, but—as much as Elizabeth liked him—it was not his company she desired at present. Without doubt, it was the opposite for Jane. The sisters had shared confidences regarding the gentlemen during a long conversation the previous day. Jane had been surprised at Elizabeth’s disclosure regarding her feelings, chiefly that she had been wholly unaware of how much her connexion with Mr Darcy had improved. Elizabeth learnt that, like Mr Darcy, Jane’s beau had hinted that he hoped to propose soon.

“I believe he wanted to know whether I would be receptive to receiving his offer,” Jane had said.

“And will you?”

The look of joy on her sister’s face had been answer enough, not that Elizabeth had needed one. For above an hour, the sisters had dreamt of the future, beginning with a double wedding and ending with many exquisitely happy years in which they, their husbands, and their children were the closest of families and friends.

Mrs Bennet fussed over the callers, and there was a general discussion of the ball—the Bennets expressing their gratitude to Mr Bingley yet again. Kitty and Lydia were especially fervent with their thanks, and they promptly asked him when the next one would be.

“Girls!” their mother cried. “You must not be greedy. You have no notion how much work is required to host such a large party, or how much money. I am sure Miss Bingley has no wish to go through it all again. An opportunity will arise sooner or later. Perhaps when there is something particular to celebrate, Mr Bingley will consider hosting another.”

“You mean when he marries Jane?” Kitty said, only to be immediately told to hold her tongue by Mrs Bennet, while Mr Bennet proclaimed it an excellent moment for Kitty, Lydia, and him to talk about something else in another room .

A short while later, Elizabeth and Mr Darcy were at last able to speak on their own.

“I wanted to come yesterday,” he explained. “But with the guests from town delaying their departure until well after breakfast, it proved impossible. By the time I was able to discuss a few matters with Bingley, it was too late to call.”

Elizabeth dismissed his implied apology. “You would have found us all insipid company, me especially. No matter how late I retire, I always wake up early, and I felt half asleep all day.”

Mr Darcy regarded her with undisguised fondness, and it thrilled her to know that their period of hiding their mutual affection from each other was at an end. “First, I shall never find your company insipid, and second, I am the same way. I believe I nodded off during dinner, which was most embarrassing. I think Hurst had to kick my foot to wake me up at one point.”

She giggled. “I would have liked to have seen you yesterday, and I know Jane feels the same about Mr Bingley, but I understand. Have all Mr Bingley’s friends left?”

“They have. Bingley considered going with them to attend to some business matter, but I suggested he delay a day or two so that we could go together. I wish I could be here and in London at once, but I cannot, and since I have been here longer than originally anticipated, it would be wrong of me to extend my time further. My sister is expecting me, as I believe I told you the other night, and my relations, who have been in the country, are now in town. I am referring to my aunt and uncle Romsley—my mother’s brother and his wife—and their two sons, with whom I am good friends.”

“Eventually, I shall understand the construction of your family, but at present, all I know is that you have more relations than I do.”

This earned her another smile, after which he said, “My cousin, your father’s old friend, is also there, with his family. I have reason to see them all, beyond those of love and duty.” He gave an impatient head shake. “I am not explaining it well. I have a scheme in mind, and Bingley has agreed to it. I would like your opinion, and, if you approve, I shall speak to your father.”

Elizabeth’s eyes opened a little wider. “I am curious what you might need both my father’s and my approval for.” Other than a proposal of marriage, that was, and she knew he was not thinking of that.

“I asked Bingley whether he would be agreeable to me returning and bringing my sister and her companion to spend Christmas at Netherfield.”

“Did you?” she exclaimed, suddenly far more eager for the Festive Season. She always enjoyed that time of year, but knowing Mr Darcy would be amongst them—along with his sister, whom she longed to meet—left her wanting to immediately begin planning amusements and as many excuses as possible for them to spend hours together every day.

He nodded. “He considers it the most wonderful idea he has heard in months, though I suspect he was exaggerating.” They shared a laugh, and his demeanour grew more serious. “My only hesitation in bringing Georgiana here is Wickham. ”

“Oh, of course,” Elizabeth said, instantly sobering and touching his hand briefly. “But surely they would not see each other? I suppose they might accidentally, such as in Meryton, if Miss Darcy wished to go there one morning. He is not welcome at Longbourn or in the homes of those we customarily see, so there is no danger there.”

“I had hoped you would help me determine how I shall keep Georgiana from having to see him, and already, you have alleviated most of my concern. I can now see that it will be easily accomplished. Georgiana is not yet out, but I and my cousin, with whom I share guardianship, permit her to attend some functions. If she returned to Meryton with me, I would hope to take her with me to smaller parties—here or at Netherfield, certainly, and perhaps some others. There would be no chance of an encounter then. I told you that she is shy, and while I do not fear she would be excessively distressed at seeing him, she would be embarrassed, and it would rob her of the good cheer I know she will otherwise experience here.”

This mark of his care and goodness, and knowing what it signalled for her own future, made Elizabeth’s eyes sting with tears; she blinked them away. “Could you not ask Colonel Forster when Mr Wickham will not be out and about? That way, we could arrange to visit Meryton one day. I am sure my sisters would like to show Miss Darcy the shops, even knowing they are not as fine as those she is accustomed to. It is diverting for us, and I assume another young lady would be equally as glad to sort through ribbons and such to pass the time. ”

“She would,” he said, sounding pleased with the suggestion. “We could arrange to take refreshments at the inn, as we did with your father.”

They spoke of several other ways they might amuse themselves. Elizabeth told him that Mr and Mrs Gardiner would almost certainly come to Longbourn, which would add to their festivities. He gratified her by saying how much he anticipated meeting them. Mr Darcy then raised another matter.

“As I said, when I am in town, I shall be seeing my family. Lady Romsley has a Twelfth Night ball every year. I am required to attend. She would not speak to me for a year if anything other than grave illness kept me away.”

She laughed, delighted with his increasingly obvious sense of humour; she supposed it was easier for him to show it since he was more comfortable with her and her family.

He continued, “Would you be able to return to London with Mr and Mrs Gardiner so that you might go with me? You and Miss Bennet both. I would like to dance with you at it.”

“Truly?” For a few seconds, she was light-headed. He wanted to take her to his aunt’s—a countess’s—ball in London. Although she knew he had titled relations, she had not before considered that they would become her own if— when —they married. “Would she invite us? I assume Mr Bingley is attending.” Even meeting an earl and countess was beyond what she had ever expected to experience. But she was confident enough in her worth not to cower or be fearful, and her enthusiasm to go to such a grand event was already growing .

“He is, and yes, if I ask it of her, she would. She would include your aunt and uncle, of course, as your chaperons.”

Surreptitiously taking a deep breath to clear her head, Elizabeth said, “My aunt and uncle are always happy for us to stay, but I shall write to them at once to ensure there is no reason it would be inconvenient. My father could inform you of their response, if you agreed.” She did not think he would object to corresponding with her father, but it was courteous to enquire.

Their solitude was soon interrupted, but Elizabeth was resigned to sharing him with her sisters and parents, all of whom appeared to have forgotten how much they had initially despised him. Either that or they were willing to never speak of the night of October 18, 1811 again. In time, they might all succeed in forgetting there had been an assembly on that date. Though why should she wish it? After all, it had been the day she and Mr Darcy first met, and, as Shakespeare said, ‘all’s well that ends well’.

Before the gentlemen departed, Mr Bingley explained that he had errands to see to in London, would leave the following day, and anticipated an absence of no more than a week. Mr Darcy would be gone longer—perhaps up to three weeks—but he vowed to see them all before Christmas.