The Gardiners and Elizabeth were announced and admitted into the drawing room where Darcy and his sister rose and greeted them civilly and warmly respectively; and though there remained a coolness in his manner, Elizabeth allowed that it was greatly improved since the day prior. They exchanged the general niceties that one expects on such an occasion, and when dinner was called, not a quarter hour later, Mr. Darcy rose and offered his arm to Mrs. Gardiner to escort her into the dining room, leaving Mr. Gardiner to accompany the two young ladies, who accepted the charge graciously, murmuring witticisms to make them giggle and then playfully chiding them for such unladylike behaviour.
The party entered the dining room and found their places: Darcy resided over the head of the table, Georgiana to his left, Elizabeth to his right, Mrs. Gardiner beside the first young lady, and Mr. Gardiner beside the second. The dinner began and conversation fluttered from one topic to another, until it settled upon meetings. Georgiana wondered aloud how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, two people from very different parts of the country, could have possibly crossed paths, and the gentleman was more than happy to inform her.
"I was riding to Lambton on a matter of business, but when I reached Derbyshire, instead of following the roads, I decided, being an exceptionally clever man, to shorten my journey by cutting through a stretch of woods. However, as I was negotiating the path my horse threw a shoe, and when I had finally exited the woods I had no concept of where I was."
"Oh no!" Georgiana cried, "What did you do?"
"Well, I began walking in a single direction, certain that eventually I would reach civilization, or a coastline that I could then follow until I reached it. So I walked for above half an hour, when suddenly, in the distance, I spied a figure by a great tree. I drew closer and found a young lady, sat against the tree, reading her book: a scene of complete beauty and tranquillity. When she noticed my presence, she lifted her eyes from her book, and I said…"
"What did you say?" Georgiana asked, eyes wide with eager anticipation.
"That was it," interjected Mrs. Gardiner, "he didn't say anything!"
"I was completely at a loss for words," Mr. Gardiner continued, "so I did as any other self-respecting, charming young man would: I turned and retreated." The four of them, thoroughly diverted by the tale, erupted with laughter.
"Fortunately," Mrs. Gardiner concluded, "the business he had in Lambton was with my father, so when he had at last found the town, we were able to form a proper acquaintance."
"You are exceedingly lucky that it was merely a first impression, Uncle," said Elizabeth, eyes bright with mirth, "and therefore you could only improve upon closer acquaintance."
"You do not believe first impressions carry any weight, Miss Bennet?" asked Darcy, donning an inscrutable expression; though in his tone Elizabeth detected an inquiry regarding a particular first impression, rather than the subject matter in general.
"In establishing a feeling," said she, "a sense of their presence and character, to thereupon develop proper opinions and judgments, yes, I believe first impressions carry some weight. But I find that first impressions, Mr. Darcy, tend to reflect the intention of the person in question."
"Would you care to elaborate, Lizzie?" Mr. Gardiner prompted.
"Well, a man may, on the occasion of meeting people whom he would like to impress, easily charm them by portraying himself as a fine, amiable sort of person, with engaging manners and intelligent conversation. However, such a man, on further acquaintance, or perhaps upon the acquaintance of those he perceives as less worthy of impressing," she glanced at Darcy, "may prove to be quite a disappointment, even to those he tried so very hard to deceive. Therefore, it would be rather impolitic to not allow, in the making of acquaintances, for the deception of others, or even worse, ourselves."
"You have eloquently explained your own opinion that first impressions may be misleading in the instance when its results are positive," Darcy returned, his tone leaving no doubt of his intention for continuing this inquiry, "but how would you justify one when the results are not so agreeable?"
"Any number of things can dictate whether a good sort of person may make a bad first impression. They may have encountered some unfortunate circumstance, causing their thoughts to be otherwise engaged; or perhaps," Elizabeth looked pointedly at Darcy, "those receiving the introduction were determined to find fault, and thus would be impossible to please even in the best of circumstances." She paused, allowing a pert smile to disperse the intensity of her gaze and replace it with a playful spark. "So you see, Mr. Darcy, first impressions can only be relied upon as copiously as the weather."
The dinner proceeded and they spoke of other things, yet all the while Darcy found himself unable to contribute, though he had opinions and perspectives worthy to be spoken and heard; for the cause of his silence was not a lack conversation nor a refusal to participate, but rather a distracted mind, solely absorbed by the expressions, both in look and voice, of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. This exercise did not kindle any feelings of adoration, although he admired the liveliness of her mind that he did not previously give credit to, nor did it rouse any of the antipathy he had previously felt; instead, it left him bewildered. And his mind was employed thusly for quite some time until he was compelled, by duty and propriety, to return his thoughts to his other guests as they finished the last course.
Although it was but a small dinner party, and hardly a formal occasion, Mr. Darcy insisted that the men and women separate for an hour, as was the custom. Elizabeth and her aunt exchanged an unsure look as Darcy led Mr. Gardiner to his study, where he was assured of a remarkably comfortable leather armchair, an enviable collection of books, and a decanter of Pemberley's finest port: which of these incited Mr. Gardiner's enthusiastic grin, only the man himself could tell you.
During this time, the ladies retired to the music room to partake of tea and light conversation; and in both of these delights Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner found a great deal of pleasure; Georgiana, on the other hand, remained rather pensive for the greater part of the hour until, when there was a sufficient lull in the discussion of their recent literary employments, she asked uncertainly, "Miss Bennet, do you really believe those things you said about first impressions?"
Elizabeth considered the question for a moment before answering, "Perhaps I embellished a few of my pronouncements for impact," she gave them a mischievous look, then continued thoughtfully, "but I do believe that, in most cases, one cannot accurately paint a portrait of another's character after one meeting."
"You are quite right, Lizzie," Mrs. Gardiner added. "Indeed, it is possible to be acquainted with someone for many years and still not truly know them. A man can be introduced and form friendships under a certain guise and maintain it for as long as he likes or is able."
"Yes," Georgiana nodded slowly, talking more to herself than to the others, "and take advantage of that friendship to forward his own scheme of avariciousness and deceit." Georgiana turned back to her friend, earnestly searching her face for an answer, and Elizabeth could not doubt the presence of a familiar anguish she perceived in the former's features. "If such a man trespasses on the goodwill of his friends, is he entirely accountable for whatever consequence befalls, or does a portion of the blame belong to his friends, who were imperceptive of his intentions?"
Elizabeth, so taken aback by the question and the expression that accompanied it, had hardly the time to understand their significance when the gentlemen entered the room: the younger gentleman strode in with all the solemnity as he was wont to display, however, the countenance of the elder was unexpectedly well-pleased, and while Elizabeth occupied herself by wondering after the reason for Miss Darcy's demeanour, Mrs. Gardiner was left to wonder after her husband's. As the gentleman ensconced himself in the place beside his wife, she could only conclude that Pemberley's finest port must be especially fine. Contrarily, her niece did not get on at all in her attempt to decipher the melancholy musings of the younger lady, whom had, since the entrance of the men, recoiled, her face flushed with embarrassment.
Upon entering the room, Darcy's eyes immediately found his sister, a habit developed quite promptly after the death of their father when he made an oath to himself to be her custodian for as long as she needed him. Hence, what he read in her features disconcerted him greatly and, when his presence on the settee across from his sister was unsuccessful in drawing her attention from her hands folded in her lap, and without wishing to embarrass her further by directly asking her the cause of her troubles, he looked to Elizabeth for an explanation. He found her as concerned and confused as he, although, unlike Elizabeth, he could easily speculate what, or rather whom, had prompted Georgiana's sudden retreat.
In the interval that followed there was a most notable strain, one not dissimilar from that felt at tea the day before, only it was constituted more by apprehension than awkwardness, and it was for this reason Mr. Gardiner, with remarkable swiftness and composure, decided upon a topic to engage the entire room. He coughed into his hand, then turned to Darcy, "When we were given a tour of Pemberley, we were shown a set of striking miniatures: one of yourself and one of another young man. The steward's son, I believe?"
Georgiana's eyes darted up and she froze, her face pained and pallid. Darcy made to stand up, but Elizabeth, reminded of her first encounter with Georgiana, addressed her, "Miss Darcy, since the moment I first made your acquaintance, I have been quite desirous of hearing you play the pianoforte again. Would you honour us with your accomplished playing?" Georgiana stared at her for a moment, the distress dispelling from her features a little. Elizabeth rose and elegantly offered Georgiana her hand, and when she took it and was also on her feet, the former lead her to the instrument and began perusing the music books which lay upon it.
With a long exhale Darcy sat back, releasing the tension in his muscles. He studied Elizabeth curiously, trying to reconcile his original judgments of her with the many discoveries of her character he had made that evening, and even the day before. However, in every instance the comparison failed, leaving him uncertain of himself; for while he was confident, due to recent events, his sister lacked the shrewdness to distinguish genuineness from insincerity in the characters and motives of those she meets, he had never suspected that he himself could be so blind to what is true.
As Georgiana seated herself before the instrument with the piece she had chosen, Elizabeth stood beside her, so as not to obstruct the view of the performer for the other occupants of the room. Though the young lady's fingers hovered over the keys for a moment, no sooner had she produced the first note than she had filled the room with the beautifully poignant melody. She played as if nothing else in the world existed, and as everything outside the weaving of notes on the page faded into insignificance, all sorrow that was present on her face vanished.
Elizabeth lifted her eyes from the serene face of Georgiana to seek those which she felt upon herself, and she found those eyes, belonging to the very gentleman she had expected, bearing a dark expression. However, when Elizabeth met his fierce gaze, rather than retract it as he had done on the previous two occasions when they had met, he softened it and, to Elizabeth's surprise, offered her a small nod of gratitude. To this she could not but smile softly and incline her head in reply, before returning her attention back to the performer in good time to turn the page.
The song came to a close and as the final chord resounded, the audience erupted with applause and compliments. "That was marvellous, Miss Darcy!" exclaimed Elizabeth, "We must hear you play another."
Elizabeth moved to select another piece for the accomplished musician to play, but Georgiana's voice, as bold as one with a gentle disposition was able to command, halted the activity, "Oh no, Miss Bennet, we must hear you play now!"
So pleased was Elizabeth that Georgiana appeared more like herself, that she had neither the heart nor inclination to refuse her friend anything. Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, Mrs. Gardiner requested the carriage be called for, as the hour was getting late and they had quite a long journey ahead of them the following day. Moving from the instrument, Georgiana resumed the place beside Mrs. Gardiner and, upon sitting there, engaged the couple in conversation about music; on this topic, as with every other covered over dinner, the Gardiners conversed with gentility. Elizabeth smiled to herself as she lowered herself into the vacant seat beside Darcy and she listened most attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of her aunt and uncle, which marked their intelligence, their taste, or their good manners.
"Miss Bennet…" Darcy murmured. Elizabeth turned to him and was startled by his expression, looking intently into her eyes, as though he longed to say something of great import but knew not how.
"Yes, Mr. Darcy?"
Darcy breathed but a syllable when Wilson entered the room to announce that the carriage was prepared to return the guests to Lambton. They all stood to depart: Darcy offered his right arm to his sister and, when she had taken it, offered the other to Elizabeth, which she gingerly accepted. Together, and with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner following closely behind, they journeyed to the Entrance Hall, across the courtyard and through the grand stone archway, as they had done two days before, but under very different circumstances. As Mr. Gardiner assisted his wife into the carriage, Georgiana abruptly turned to Elizabeth, seemingly unsure of the reception of her next words. "Miss Bennet, I wondered… that is I hoped, since you are to travel home tomorrow, if I might… write you?"
"Of course!" Elizabeth answered. "If you like, I shall write you when I return to Longbourn, and enclose the direction so you may reply."
"Oh, yes! I should like that very much, indeed!" Georgiana enthused.
"Excellent! Until then, Miss Darcy." With an elegant curtsy, Elizabeth said goodbye to her friend and turned to the carriage where Darcy stood patiently, his expression enigmatic. She searched his face for some glimmering of what he had wished to say, however, his extended hand compelled her to avert them, so she accepted his proffered hand and joined her aunt and uncle in the carriage.
Closing the carriage door, Darcy bowed finally. "Farewell, Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner." He paused to look at her once more. "Farewell, Miss Bennet."
The carriage was silent for several minutes, as it pulled away from the house and slowly ascended the hill; for each of its passengers were so absorbed by their own introspections as to pay no heed to conversation, or the lack thereof. It was Elizabeth, with eyes bright with laughter as she looked out the window at the passing trees caressed by moonlight and soft shadows, who was to begin the dialogue concerning the subject of universal intrigue. "Mr. Darcy has much improved over the course of one day; one might even call him agreeable. Indeed, it is a most surprising, and possibly miraculous, transformation." She paused to look back at Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and though it was too dim to perceive the mischievous grin on her face, it was undeniably present in her tone. "I am particularly astonished that such a man of so few words on previous occasions could maintain conversation with a near stranger for an entire hour! How did he manage it, Uncle?"
Mr. Gardiner smiled at his niece's teasing, and responded in kind, "Well, Lizzie, I am delighted to inform you that the aforementioned gentlemen managed it very well, indeed." He leaned in closer, an exaggerated sense of gravity in his countenance. "I must warn you, Lizzie, that the information I shall now impart will render you astonished, and not a little disappointed." Elizabeth gasped dramatically, but refrained from speaking so that he could continue. "After dinner we entered Mr. Darcy's study, he invited me to sit while he poured the port, and when we had, both of us, settled into a chair and held a glass of port, Mr. Darcy looked at me with grave solemnity and…"
"Yes?" urged Elizabeth impatiently.
"Apologised." The carriage was silent once more. Mr. Gardiner, having finished his tale, leaned back and relished in the dumbfounded speechlessness one word had induced.
"He assured me he would give no excuses for his behaviour, as doing so often tends to undermine, rather than strengthen, an apology. The only reason he gave was that he, and by consequence his sister, to whom he is more like a father, had quite recently been injured by someone he once thought well of and trusted. Of the particulars he did not feel at liberty to convey, a decision that I can easily understand and respect, only that it made him swear to himself to be more vigilant and guarded in selecting the company he and his sister keeps. As a brother and father myself, I readily forgave him and that was that. We talked of fishing for the remainder of the hour, and he was everything amiable." Mr. Gardiner concluded his narrative here, leaving Elizabeth very thoughtful, although his wife could perceive that he was withholding part of it. Later that night when they all retired to their rooms, she would ask him about it and he would answer: "Well I did offer him forgiveness on behalf of myself and my beautiful wife," he kissed her hand, and she blushed with embarrassed delight, "but I informed him that I could not speak for Elizabeth. That he would have to beg for her mercy himself, for she is far too clever and stubborn to accept anything less."
Mrs. Gardiner's eyes widened at this account. "And how did he respond?"
"He smiled."