Chapter 7

Mr. Darcy had been very kind, and had introduced Elizabeth to his mother and to her husband with the greatest civility. Elizabeth was brimming with curiosity about the woman, but there had been little opportunity to learn much about her beyond appearances.  She was handsome and pleasant, neither as imperious as Lady Catherine, nor as quiet as Mr. Darcy. Georgiana had taken to her immediately, the girl quietly but intently talking to her mother and commanding all of her attention.

Elizabeth turned her eye to the other conversations in the room - Charlotte and Anne carried on their usual discussion of household affairs, joined by Mr. Tyrone who had a great many questions about the history of the house. This held less interest to Elizabeth than her observation of Jane and Colonel Fitzwilliam sitting apart from the rest, laughing and talking and – flirting - all evening. Elizabeth could not remember the last time she had seen Jane flirt, batting her eyelashes at a young man. Certainly Jane had never displayed such forward behaviours to Mr. Bingley. It was most disconcerting.

From her own corner, Elizabeth observed the conversations around her, not noticing Mr. Darcy until he sat down near her. 

“Do you mind, Miss Bennet?”

“No, not at all.”

“You are unusually quiet this evening. I have barely seen you speak more than three or four words to anyone.”

Elizabeth sat, looking at her hands for a moment as if in thought, and then spoke in a quiet voice. “Indeed Mr. Darcy, I have decided to follow your example.” She raised her eyes to his, a small mischievous smile on her lips.

Darcy found himself taken aback for a moment and then returned her look with one of his own rare smiles. Elizabeth held his gaze for a moment, and then looked away, embarrassed by her own boldness.

For the rest of the evening, they sat together, each comfortable enough with the other to sit in silence, only talking occasionally of small, unimportant matters, and watching the rest of the room’s occupants with interest. When Elizabeth rose to depart with Jane and Charlotte, Mr. Darcy rose as well, and pressed her hand in his, as he kissed the back of it saying,

“Thank you, Miss Bennet. I enjoyed your company this evening.”

Elizabeth felt her face grow warm as she murmured her thanks. Something about the grasp of Mr. Darcy’s hand around hers made it nearly impossible to speak. Once again her reaction to him, especially the feel of his hand or the touch of his lips on her hand made it difficult for her to think clearly.

Upon their return to Hunsford, Jane and Charlotte had been full of excitement and gossip,  but Elizabeth wished for none of it. She  fled to her bedchamber as soon as they reached Hunsford.  Rising early the next morning, Elizabeth left the parsonage before anyone else had awakened, and walked rapidly through the wood, without much thought to her destination. She was too busy thinking about her response to Mr. Darcy.

*******

Rising early, Darcy dressed quickly without the help of his valet. It was his intent to walk out in the cool mist that hung over the land surrounding Rosings. Whether there was another motivation, he was loath to admit it to himself.  He had thought a great deal about Elizabeth’s reaction to him, and on balance, was very pleased. She was able to tease him comfortably, she seemed to enjoy his company, and even allowed him small liberties – a kiss on the hand, for example. She blushed charmingly, he had to admit.  He shook his head in amazement – a few months ago, he would not have valued such small liberties as quite so precious, he would have taken them as his due. But then again, he had never been refused by a woman for a dance, let alone an offer of marriage until he met Elizabeth Bennet.

Passing along the entrance to the dining room, he was surprised by a noise and looked inside to see Mrs. Tyrone at the table, her countenance thoughtful as she ran her finger back and forth along the rim of the tea cup set before her.  Her eyes rose at the sound of his step, and she invited him in. He could not easily refuse her. She spoke almost immediately.

“You retired very early last night. As soon as the young ladies returned to Hunsford, in fact.  Are you rested?”

“Yes madam. I remain an early riser.”

“I would expect nothing less,” she said.  “An interesting party. Richard is quite taken with Miss Jane Bennet. And she with him. I had known of Richard’s feelings, but was happy to see those feelings so clearly returned. She is lovely and possessed of excellent manners and talent. Had you not noticed this yourself? I would have thought she would interest you. But perhaps Miss Bennet’s family is not up to your usual standard?”

“There is nothing amiss with Miss Bennet’s family. I am simply not taken with her, although she is a fine young woman.”

“Really? Most curious. I confess I found myself surprised to observe how attentive you were to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Attentive?”

“Yes, attentive,” she waved her hand, as if to brush the thought away. “You know, I like both of them very much. They have excellent manners, are not beset by unnecessary airs, and I suspect that Miss Elizabeth has a very good, very lively intelligence, as well as a great curiosity about many things,” she looked up at Darcy and said “Does Miss Elizabeth have fondness for early morning walks in the wood?”

The faintest blush overtook Darcy’s face, “You will have to ask her, for I would not wish to speak on her behalf."

She smiled, and inclined her head to capture a better view of him. “Perhaps I shall enquire when next she is in our company.”  

Darcy could only bow politely.

From the slight purse of her lips, he knew she was unsatisfied with his response. He was surprised, then to hear her change the subject. 

“What do you think of Anne’s behaviours? I am happy to see her eat - although she is perhaps a bit too interested in sweets.  Nonetheless, I am glad to see her express an interest in food – Catherine always kept her under such rigid control." She paused for a moment, catching his eye. "Anne is rather hostile toward you, however.”

“Anne has had many changes in a very short space of time, it is a great deal to take in, I imagine." His tone was mild, noncommittal.

“Yes, of course. But what did she expect from you, I wonder?”

He could hear the impatience in her voice. Darcy felt all too much the pressure of his mother’s curiosity and her great ability to engage in a conversation where in the next moment, he would be telling her his deepest secrets. He attempted to shift the subject away from himself, asking,

“Have you been up all night, madam?” 

He was rewarded by an indulgent look. She decided to let the inquisition cease for now.   “I have. Georgiana and I spent the night talking – I fear she will sleep through the day. You have done well with her, my dear; she is lovely, if a little shy.”

Her compliments took him by surprise, “I know you did not always feel I had done... so well.”

Mrs. Tyrone stood and stifled a yawn, suddenly too tired to continue. “Well, I have been proved wrong. And in this case, happily so. I am off to bed; I hope you have a pleasant day.”

Darcy bowed, formally. She watched him with amusement, a small smile on her lips.

“Always so proper.”  She walked to him and stood on her toes, kissing his cheek. “You have become an excellent man, Fitzwilliam. I only wish I had been able to help you more than I have.” She walked toward the stairs. When he had been a child, her kiss on his cheek had cured all manner of ills.
 
“Sleep well, Mother.” It was the most natural thing in the world to come out of his mouth and he said it without thinking. She turned and looked back at him gathering her skirts to climb the stairs. Her expression was guarded. But he thought he saw tears in her eyes.

******

Darcy walked rapidly through the wood, happy about his mother’s words, but still dreading the inevitable inquisition.  He did not give his final destination much thought and so was not surprised to find himself back at the stream.  Likewise he was not particularly surprised to find Elizabeth Bennet perched on a rock, her feet dangling against the rock’s surface. 

“Mr. Darcy,” her feet stopped moving.

“Miss Bennet. I rather hoped I might find you here.”

“Have you another letter for me, sir?” she jumped down gracefully to the ground, shading her eyes from the sun as she looked up at him.

He recoiled for a moment, but soon realised with relief that the expression in her eyes was one of teasing.

“I enjoyed our last encounter in the wood far better than the one in which I gave you that letter. Miss Bennet.”

“I did as well. Please forgive my poor attempt at humour then,” She looked down at her feet, her expression guarded.

“Please do not make yourself uneasy, I find myself looking forward to such attempts, and am pleased you find me a suitable target.”

Elizabeth’s mouth fell open in surprise at Mr. Darcy’s cheerful quickness; and she looked away for a moment, gathering her thoughts, unsure of what to say. When she spoke again, it was on a completely different topic. “You know of course, that Mr. Bingley visited us.”

“No, I had no idea.” If Darcy was surprised by the shift in topic, he did not show it. 

Darcy thought Elizabeth’s expression revealed some disappointment as she said, “Oh. I wondered how he knew to find us here. I had hoped, or rather thought that …. But well, perhaps he had been at Netherfield of his own accord.”

“I did explain my compliance in hiding your sister’s location from him last winter. And I told him where she was likely to be found. He was very angry with me – I have neither seen nor heard from him since, in fact. I am not pleased with my conduct in this matter. Not at all.” Elizabeth could hear a tinge of disgust in his voice.

“But, Mr. Darcy you were correct in your assessment of Jane’s feelings. She does not love Mr. Bingley.”

“No Miss Bennet, that could not be. You have the superior understanding of your sister.”

“I had thought so, but I cannot say the same now.”

“Perhaps your sister did love Mr. Bingley. Perhaps had I not meddled in his affairs, they would be together now. "

Elizabeth shook her head. “I have never known my sister to be so inconstant. She would not allow Mr. Bingley to visit our father and obtain permission to court her. Her feelings could not have changed so quickly.”

“Do you not think it possible for feelings to change, given time and circumstance?”

“I do not think it is possible.” But then she looked up at him and realized that perhaps his question did not tend just to her sister, and she said with a small smile, “I suppose with sufficient motivation, one’s feelings may change.” Her countenance grew serious again, as she said, “I was so sure of Jane, however.”

Darcy released the breath he had been holding. “May I ask you? Has your sister spoken to you of her feelings toward my cousin?”

“No, but I think she likes him, very much.”

“You do not seem happy about this. Do you dislike my cousin?”

“No, of course not. I find him to be a charming man, friendly and very pleasant. But I also feel that he has turned Jane’s head at a time when she is quite vulnerable.”

“Colonel Fitzwilliam is honourable. He would not hurt…”

Elizabeth shook her head, “No, not intentionally, I know that. But what can come of this?” she looked up at Darcy with something like dismay. “The Colonel is a younger son. He told me himself that he must marry a wife with a fortune. What can Jane offer him? I feel that nothing good can come of this.”

“Miss Bennet, I do not know my cousin's intentions. But please believe me – I will help my cousin any way that I can. And he is far from destitute, really. Being a younger son does give him some resources.”

“Very well, Mr. Darcy, perhaps you are right. And, I cannot make Jane’s decisions for her. I shall be optimistic.”

They were silent for a while, standing in the forest, the sun shining down all around them. Darcy found himself captivated by the play of light on Elizabeth’s face, and the way it illuminated the different flecks of colour in her fine eyes. His eyes travelled down her face, across her flushed cheeks, and to her mouth, soft and full. He closed his eyes for a moment to regain some semblance of control. Elizabeth too, felt an unfamiliar tension, and cast about for a subject that would provide some release.

“Tell me about your mother. She is most unexpected.”

Darcy sighed, not knowing relief or annoyance at Elizabeth's unexpected words. “Few people outside our circle know of her existence. I am sure Bingley knows nothing, for example.” 

“I see. Of course if you would rather not speak of her.”

She had moved slightly away from him, her eyes cast down. Had he hurt her with his words?

“No No, it is not that. How could you not think I would tell you anything you wished to know?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth looked up at him, clearly surprised.  “We are determined to misunderstand each other, are we not?”

“We have spent the morning, talking of everyone and everything, Miss Bennet, but not ourselves,” Darcy said quietly.

 

“Perhaps that is the safe choice, Mr. Darcy. I am not ready to speak of such things.” Her voice was equally quiet, as she looked down at the ground again.

“I see.” His voice grew even more quiet. There was an uncomfortable silence between them for a few moments, as Elizabeth gathered her thoughts.

“But it does not follow that I will never be ready, it is merely that I am not ready right at this particular moment,” she said, giving him a sidelong glance from under her lashes. There, let him think what he would.

Darcy felt a rush of relief. “If I may anticipate that, Miss Bennet, then I can wait. Well then, I am at your disposal. What would you like to know?”

“Somehow, I was under the impression that your mother was dead. No one ever spoke of her, only in the past tense.” Elizabeth tried to ignore the intensity with which he spoke. But in truth, she was pleased at his response.

“Yes, we hardly spoke of her among ourselves, even. And we would not admit her society once she left my father.” He paused and looked away.

Elizabeth spoke with alarm, worried that she had crossed a boundary with her request. “Oh please, do not continue if it pains you so. Perhaps we may speak of something – anything else. The weather…”

“No.” He leaned over and stilled her hand with his own. His grasp was warm. She stopped and looked down at their hands joined and swallowed, and looked up to meet his gaze. She found herself unable to look away from him, unable to move as he spoke again, “I find I want to tell you this – you will understand that it is difficult, you see.”

Elizabeth ignored the fact that his hand was still joined with hers. “Then please, continue,” she said softly.
 
Darcy spoke quietly, his eyes never leaving her face. “Shortly before my father’s death, he and my mother disagreed most seriously. So serious, in fact, that she left Pemberley for London. Whether he ordered her removal, or she wished for it, I never knew. All I know is that I returned a few weeks later – my father lay near death and my mother was nowhere to be found. There were rumours that my father had found out about a lover and had ordered the relationship to end, but she had instead left to join her lover.  By the time my father died, she had removed her belongings from the townhouse and had all but disappeared.”
 
“Had your parents been happily married before all of this?” Why did she have to ask that, she wondered.

“No, I do not think it was an especially happy marriage. There was respect, but very little affection. They behaved properly toward each other, rarely fought or disagreed, they were amiable, but without warmth. Perhaps there was something initially, but I never saw it. They were good parents, rarely, if ever spoke ill of the other in front of us, I am sure each loved Georgiana and myself. I am not sure that each loved the other.”

“It is sad,” said Elizabeth.

“Yes, it is sad. I do not want to live without affection in marriage. I would rather be alone, – which is of course difficult as I must produce an heir or two. But it seems very cold, we might as well breed livestock.” He looked down into her upturned face and tracing her features with his eyes, settled on her mouth which seemed anything but cold.

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, trying to ignore her feelings – feelings of discomfort, and elation all at once. “Of course, it may be more prudent to enter into a marriage where both parties are well matched, even if there is not affection. Look at my own parents. My father was captivated by my mother’s looks and high spirits, but soon found himself bored.  I think it makes him cynical and my mother - well, you have seen my mother, Mr. Darcy.”

“Do you really believe that an affectionate, happy marriage is impossible?” His grip on her hand grew stronger.

Elizabeth met Darcy’s gaze for a moment, and he reluctantly let go of her hand. She bit her lip, deep in thought, moving away from him.  “No, no I do not. Because then I look at my Uncle Gardiner – he is my mother’s younger brother, and his wife, my Aunt. They are affectionate, well matched and very, very happy. I think the key must be both mutual respect and affection. Perhaps your parents respected each other, but they had not affection. My parents – or at least my father had affection but not respect.”

 

Darcy nodded in agreement, pleased at her response. “Very astute, Miss Bennet.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. And thank you for telling me of your mother...it must be strange to see her in such a different light.”

“It is most strange. But then, there have been many strange things to experience of late, have there not? I have found my mother to be rather a pleasant surprise.”

“I am glad Mr Darcy, for when one must be surprised, it is always better that the surprise be pleasant, rather than unpleasant.”

Darcy laughed at Elizabeth’s conclusion, admiring the way in which Elizabeth had diffused the tension between them. He remembered something else, “My mother, that is Mrs. Tyrone, is very skilled at the process of interrogation. She finds you quite interesting and so I wanted to warn you to expect a barrage of questions.”

“I see,” Elizabeth’s countenance grew thoughtful, and she wondered what Mr. Darcy had told his mother of her.

“However, Miss Bennet, I also wanted you to know that you should not feel inclined to divulge any information.”

They made their way back to Rosings then, each lost in thought. Darcy happily reviewed their conversation, very much at ease in Elizabeth's presence. Elizabeth was rather more unsettled.. Her own feelings about Mr. Darcy did not put her at ease. She was happy to be in his company, almost craving his presence. It was a new and somewhat disconcerting feeling for her. And what would Mrs. Tryone think of that? She wondered how much influence Mrs. Tryone held over her son, and while she was not afraid of the woman, the prospect of an interrogation did not fill her with happy anticipation.

Chapter 8