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Chapter 20
Lizzy heard Kitty begin to stir and put her book down. It was a favorite to re-read, and she had almost completed it for the fifth time as Kitty slept the day away.
Kitty look at her sister groggily, "You lied to me," she whispered hoarsely.
"I beg your pardon?" Lizzy responded in confusion. She offered Kitty a sip of water.
Kitty cleared her throat. "You lied to me," she repeated in a more normal voice. "You said if I had positive thoughts, I would not spill the tea. That does not appear to be the case."
Lizzy burst into unladylike laughter, the tension easing from her body. "If you are able to tease, then perhaps you are not truly injured and simply wish to remain at Netherfield to catch a husband. Mayhap you share more characteristics with our mother and Lydia than previously thought?"
Kitty's eyes widened in horror, and Lizzy began to laugh even harder. The sisterly moment was interrupted a moment later by a knock at the door.
"Come in," Lizzy called.
Georgiana entered the room. "I thought I had heard laughter," she said, looking unsure, "and I wanted to join the fun."
Lizzy smiled at the younger girl and gestured for her to take Lizzy's place in the chair. Moving to the bed, Lizzy said, "A friend is always welcome when one is confined to their bed."
"What are you reading?" Georgiana asked Lizzy, spying the book on the small table near the chair.
"Gulliver's Travels," Lizzy replied. "Have you read it?"
Georgiana blushed, "I am afraid I prefer a good romance novel as opposed to a book that will cause me to think deeply."
Kitty smiled at her. "My sister Lydia and I feel the same way. Lizzy, however, prefers to read books and novels that will broaden her mind."
The three young women spent the next hour examining the books they had read, as well as their feelings about them. Lizzy quickly saw that Georgiana was sincere in her statement that she would prefer to read simple novels. As Kitty and Georgiana became engrossed in their discussion over Mrs. Radcliffe's latest novel, Lizzy's mind turned to her copy of Gulliver's Travels.
"Georgiana," Lizzy said when there was a pause in the younger girls' conversation, "may I please visit your library? I was unable to bring many books with me, and I fear that I have already exhausted my supply."
Georgiana laughed. "You may borrow any book you choose," she said.
The next day found Lizzy perusing the library bookshelves after her early morning walk. She had dined with Kitty the previous night and had yet to encounter any of the Netherfield party that day. Finding the selection of books to be rather sparse, she finally settled on one that appeared to be of some interest. She settled herself onto an overstuffed chair to read the first few pages.
After a few minutes, the library door opened, and Mr. Darcy entered the room. What could he be doing in here? Lizzy thought in frustration, her solitude interrupted.
Darcy was equally surprised to find Lizzy in the library. He was even more surprised at the book she had apparently chosen to read: a series of discourses on the importance of mathematics. It was a volume he had purchased a few weeks prior and had read on their journey to Netherfield.
Could she have known that I visit the library in the mornings after my ride? He thought suspiciously. That would explain her choice in reading material. Then he checked himself. No, that is too harsh, man! Remember, you owe her an apology.
Unable to find the words, however, he picked up a book and sat on another chair, determined to give the impression he was reading so he could consider the correct words with which to voice his regrets. Unfortunately, he had chosen a novel by Mrs. Radcliffe. Georgiana, he groaned with dismay. If I am fortunate, Miss Bennet will not be aware of what I have chosen, he thought hopefully.
Fortune was not with him, however.
Mr. Darcy reads romance novels? Lizzy thought in surprise. I had not expected it of him. Perhaps he reads all the books his sister desires before giving them to her. Could he really censor her reading in such a way?
Their private thoughts continued in this manner for a quarter of an hour, until Miss Bingley entered the room. She affected surprised at encountering Mr. Darcy, but her astonishment became genuine upon spying Lizzy also in the room.
She crossed the room and ran her fingers along the shelves. "I am ashamed my brother has such a small library!" she cried in feigned dismay. "There is nothing more enjoyable than passing an afternoon by reading."
She chose a book and sat on a settee near the fireplace. However, Miss Bingley's attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy's progress through his book, as in reading her own; and she was perpetually either making some enquiry, or looking at his page. She could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her question, and read on.
At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be amused with her own book, which she had only chosen because it was the second volume of his, she gave a great yawn, threw aside her book, and cast her eyes round the room in quest for some amusement.
she got up and walked about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In the desperation of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more, and, turning to Elizabeth, said:
"Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to join me and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude."
Elizabeth was surprised but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley succeeded no less in the real object of her civility; Mr. Darcy looked up. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing that he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would interfere. "What could he mean? She was dying to know what could be his meaning?"—and asked Elizabeth whether she could at all understand him?
"Not at all," was her answer; "but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it."
Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in anything, and persevered therefore in requiring an explanation of his two motives.
"I have not the smallest objection to explaining them," said he, as soon as she allowed him to speak. "You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire."
"Oh! shocking!" cried Miss Bingley. "I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?"
"Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination," said Elizabeth. "We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done."
"But upon my honour, I do not. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me that. Tease calmness of manner and presence of mind! No, no; I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Darcy may hug himself."
"Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!" cried Elizabeth. "That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintances. I dearly love a laugh."
"Miss Bingley," said he, "has given me more credit than can be. The wisest and the best of men—nay, the wisest and best of their actions—may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke."
"Certainly," replied Elizabeth—"there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without."
"Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule."
"Such as vanity and pride."
"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation."
Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile. What conceit! she thought, satisfied to find Mr. Darcy exactly as she imagined him.
"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume," said Miss Bingley; "and pray what is the result?"
"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise."
"No," said Darcy, "I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever."
"That is a failing indeed!" cried Elizabeth. "Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me."
"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome."
"And your defect is to hate everybody."
"And yours," he replied with a smile, "is willfully to misunderstand them."
Miss Bingley frowned throughout the conversation. "Come!" she exclaimed, interrupting their banter, "it is almost time to go down to dinner."
Lizzy looked at the clock, startled by the time. "My goodness!" she cried in dismay, standing hastily, "I have quite forgotten Kitty and Georgiana!" Pickup up her book, she quickly curtsied and hurried from the room.
"Elizabeth Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, "is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art."
"Undoubtedly," replied Darcy, "there is a meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable."
Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject. There was no need, however, as Mr. Darcy immediately excused himself to dress for dinner. He was quite put-out that an entire day had passed without the opportunity to tender his apologies to Miss Bennet. No matter, he reassured himself, as she will be here for a fortnight complete.
The opportunity to offer those regrets was repeatedly delayed, however. With Kitty's ankle too painful to be moved, Lizzy took advantage of the opportunity to avoid the Bingley sisters and the other Netherfield men by remaining in Kitty's rooms. Georgiana was a frequent visitor, and she and Kitty had struck up a friendship rooted in gaiety and frivolities. The two were frequently found giggling together over romance novels, gossip, and ribbons. At first, Lizzy was surprised at their seeming immaturity, but she reminded herself of their young ages, in spite of the fact that Georgiana was a married woman.
After a week of little movement, however, Lizzy was driven into the garden early one morning to escape her self-imposed confinement. With another week at Netherfield looming before her, she desperately yearned to escape outdoors.
Lizzy walked quickly down the path and towards the forested area at the back of the lawn. Once out of sight, she broke into a run. It had been several years since she had moved quicker than a brisk gait, but it had also been years since she had gone so long without exercise.
Once the last of the desperation had faded from her body, she slowed to a walk, allowing her breathing to slow down. As she came through the trees towards a clearing near a brook, she stopped suddenly. "Mr. Darcy!" she exclaimed.
Darcy turned, shock covering his features. He had been out for his morning ride. Frustrating at being unable to speak with Miss Bennet to apologize caused him to run his mount faster and further than usual. Not one to mistreat a horse, they had stopped at the brook, and he had dismounted to allow the animal time to recover and get a drink of water.
For the first time, Darcy was struck by Miss Bennet's beauty. She must be part fae, he thought incredulously as he took in her heightened color, loose curls, and damp gown. He stared in fascination, her disheveled state dangerously alluring.
Several seconds passed in silence. Uncomfortable from his disconcerting gaze, Lizzy shifted and felt a few wisps of hair fall from the pins that held her coiffure in place. What must he think of me? she thought in dismay as she considered how she must look, wild from her run.
She fought the urge to fidget and repair the damage to her appearance. As she began to lift her hands to hair, she suddenly stopped. I will not allow his disapproval to intimidate me, she decided. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.
"You are by yourself?" Darcy blurted out.
"As you see," she said coolly, echoing her words from her arrival at Netherfield.
Darcy mentally cursed himself for his foolishness. "Allow me to escort you back to Netherfield," he offered.
Lizzy made to protest but realized she would need to be returning anyway. Kitty would be leaving her bedroom for the parlor for the first time since she had come to Netherfield, and Lizzy wished to be present in case the Bingley sisters decided to join them. They had fortunately been able to avoid their company thus far.
"Thank you," she responded, and his shoulders relaxed slightly.
The two walked in silence for several minutes, the horse following docilely behind them, occasionally nipping at tall grass along the path.
Speak, man! Darcy said to himself furiously. You have been waiting for a chance to have a private conversation with her. Now that your chance has come, you are silent. Open your mouth!
"I'm sorry," Darcy said abruptly.
Lizzy startled out of her private musings. "I beg your pardon?" she responded blankly.
"I'm – I'm sorry," he stammered. "I owe you, and you family, my apologies."
"What for?" Lizzy asked curiously. Let's see what he thinks he needs to apologize for, she thought amusement.
Darcy took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "For encouraging Bingley to leave your elder sister."
"Why did you?" Lizzy asked after a few moments of silence.
"At the time, Bingley was only eighteen years of age. He had a few years of school left. I was unaware until a few weeks ago that he had engaged his honor by promising to return to her." He took another breath, then continued, "I was also in a foul mood. My father had recently passed away, and I just left behind my mourning. There were several attempts at compromise, and I became cynical and jaded. I passed judgment on your sister in the course of a few hours, which was wrong of me."
Lizzy stopped walking, and Darcy stopped with her. He waited nervously as she considered his words.
What a surprise! Lizzy thought to herself. I had not anticipated that he would have the humility to condescend to apologize for his behavior. Perhaps I have been somewhat mistaken in his character. While he is not the most amiable of gentlemen, he demonstrates an honorable character in apologize for an error made so many years ago. I must think more on this later.
Finally, she resumed walking and said slowly, "I admit, my anger towards yourself and Mr. Bingley five years ago was quite fierce. My sister was heartbroken at Mr. Bingley's abandonment. She is of a very sensitive nature. However, with the benefit of hindsight, I can see why you made the recommendation you did. Mr. Bingley did not have the maturity or constancy to be in a serious relationship, and I believe my sister was fortunate to escape an imprudent match."
Darcy opened his mouth to interject, but she held up her hand to stop him. "Your disparagement of my sister was unwarranted. However, I can see why you may have had those feelings, however incorrect. In short, Mr. Darcy, you have my forgiveness."
A weight lifted off Darcy's shoulders. "Thank you, Miss Bennet," he said feelingly.
The two continued in silence, but this time, the silence was peaceful as opposed to awkward. Upon reaching the house, he bowed, and she responded with a curtsy.
"Oh Mr. Darcy!" a shrill voice exclaimed as they entered the front door. "We have been wondering where you disappeared to!"
Miss Bingley came bustling down the corridor. Upon seeing Lizzy, she stopped and looked between the two of them curiously.
"Miss Eliza, I believe your sister is looking for you," the lady said.
"Thank you, Miss Bingley," Lizzy said, meeting Darcy's eyes with a twinkle in her own. As she ascended the stairs, Miss Bingley turned towards Darcy.
"I can guess the subject of your reverie," she said.
"I should imagine not," he returned.
"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many mornings in this manner—in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise—the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!"
"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."
Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face and desired he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections.
Mr. Darcy replied succinctly, "Miss Elizabeth Bennet." He then bowed and also ascended the stairs, leaving an injured Miss Bingley behind him.