A/N
HLW - Chapter 5 for your perusal, hope you enjoy.
Thank you for all the engagement, kind words and feedback😊. I would be interested in your feedback for Ch5
To Lisa - Hope your daughter is doing well. Pls don't worry about the proof-reading bit, I can understand that you would be busy.
N.
Her Last WordsChapter 5Unconsciously reverting to the habit of last year, the sisters dallied behind until Jane and Mr Bingley had taken a lead. Mary, who had been reading a book on religious philosophy when the gentlemen arrived, expressed her intention to continue her reading.
"Lizzy, I will be in the arbour if you need me," she said before taking her leave of the group with a vague smile in their direction.
Mrs Bennet also excused herself to Darcy, only a few minutes into their walk.
"Jane and Mr Bingley have just disappeared behind that hedge. I suppose a chaperon would not go awry." She vanished even as she finished speaking.
An amused Darcy could easily understand Mrs Bennet's motivation. It was natural for her to be interested in the progress between Bingley and Miss Bennet. After all, her future, if it could really be called as such, depended on the couple arriving at an understanding. Darcy looked around and breathed a little easier when it became clear that the lady had indeed left.
The silence in their group was soon broken by Lydia's eager voice. "Lizzy, could you please ask Papa to send an invitation to the officers for the dinner tomorrow?"
There was a stunned silence at her request. Darcy watched silently as Elizabeth and Miss Catherine exchange a shocked glance before Elizabeth protested, "Lydia! How can you even think of such a thing... we are not having a get-together to which the officers can be invited."
"But why is that? If Papa can ask Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley for supper, then why can we not invite Wickham, Carter, and the others?" the youngest Bennet asked petulantly. There was an embarrassed silence that stretched for a long moment. Both Elizabeth and Kitty could not help glancing at Mr Darcy at Lydia's ill-mannered display. Then, with an exasperated sigh, Kitty added her voice to Elizabeth's objection. "Do you really need to ask that, Lydia? Is it so difficult to grasp that Papa requesting a couple of visiting neighbours to join him for a quiet meal is not at all the same as him sending out dinner invitations to a large group of people?"
Unfortunately, Lydia Bennet had decided not to let propriety and etiquette put a curb on her tongue. "If inviting everyone all at once is not acceptable we can always invite one or two of them... say Wickham and Carter a few days from now. How will that be different from inviting Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley?"
As a mortified Elizabeth stood there listening to Lydia's tasteless arguments, she was forcibly reminded of Mr Darcy's tirade against the conduct of some of her family at Hunsford parsonage. Now that she was no longer livid at him, she could acknowledge the justness of his accusations, despite his own boorish conduct of yore. For a brief moment, she was tempted to ignore decorum like Lydia, and chastise her. However, the realization that Mama's death was hurting her youngest sister more than most, stilled her tongue.
"We will discuss this later, Lydia," she said noncommittally, in a bid to end the unsavoury conversation.
"What is there to discuss? I want the officers to come and see us. They are fun and lighthearted. When they come, they will help to dispel some of the endless gloom that pervades every nook and cranny of our house. It sets my teeth on edge how each one of you is forever moping, as if someone just die... oh!" Lydia's eyes widened in horror as she realized what she had just said.
"I am glad you remembered that someone in the family has died." The grim words came out of Elizabeth's mouth before she could stop herself.
Lydia jerked back as if she had been slapped. Tears spilled over from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. "Oh!" she repeated, then turned and ran back towards the house.
"I shall speak with her, Lizzy," Kitty said, and, with a quick courtesy to Darcy, she hurried after her sister.
An awkward silence reigned as Darcy and Elizabeth stood watching the retreating backs of the youngest two Bennets. Elizabeth was appalled by her loss of control. Between them, she and Lydia had beautifully demonstrated to Mr Darcy how correct he had been in judging them for their lack of decorum. What must he be thinking?
'He must be thanking his stars that I rejected his offer.' For no apparent reason, the thought left her feeling sad.
She was also worried that despite her good intentions, she had been cruel to Lydia. Jane and Lydia had always been their mother's favourites but as the youngest Lydia had been especially cossetted by Mama. It was therefore understandable that Lydia was feeling lost and distressed ever since Mama died. But her recent behaviour had left Elizabeth perplexed. Why would Lydia behave in such an unusual manner? Elizabeth rubbed her brow in agitation as she pondered the matter.
~§§§~
As the silence between them lengthened, Darcy turned to glance at Elizabeth. He considered leaving to spare her the embarrassment that his presence must be causing her. But as he stood there watching, she rubbed her forehead agitatedly and her shoulders drooped. He knew he could not abandon her like this. To be honest, what he really wanted to do was to reassure her. Although it may sound trite, but time is indeed a great healer. He could tell her from his personal experience that while the sense of loss would never go away, things would get better – sooner or later.
Elizabeth noticed him staring at her when she looked his way. She had expected him to look at her with disdain, and would not have blamed him if he had, but instead she saw compassion in his eyes. Much to her surprise, she found herself blurting, "I am sorry that you had to witness that embarrassing incident, Mr Darcy. I do not really know what suddenly got into Lydia...," she broke off and shrugged helplessly.
"I think I can take a guess, Miss Elizabeth. I believe Miss Lydia is angry and scared."
"I am sorry, but I do not understand what made you come to this conclusion."
Darcy sighed, unsure of how to explain it to her. "How old is Miss Lydia?" he asked finally.
"She will turn sixteen this December."
"Hmm... fifteen, and I suppose being the youngest, she was more attached to her mother than to anyone else in the family?"
"Well, yes, you can safely say that." Elizabeth nodded, then added with a faint smile, "In a way it is hardly surprising. Lydia was the apple of our mother's eye. Mama rarely checked her or denied her anything."
"Then, that makes my conclusion all the more plausible. You know, I... I was fourteen when I lost my mother. It was a very difficult time for all three of us. Georgiana was only three at the time and had the liberty of expressing her distress openly. But Darcy men must be strong for those in their care. They... they do not cry. So, of course I could not express much of anything – grief or anger or..." Darcy came to a halt with an expressive shrug.
"How unfair to Darcy men," Elizabeth murmured, almost to herself, but Darcy, who heard her soft words, responded with a quick smile.
A moment later, he continued, "But... yes, I was angry – angry that my mother had been taken away from me – from us – so soon and scared that my emotional mainstay was no longer there. My father guided my conduct, taught me my responsibilities, but it was my mother who was always ready with a gentle touch, a warm hug, and a willing ear. All that had vanished in one moment."
He was lost in his thoughts for a while, reliving the memories of those long-gone difficult times. He snapped out of his reverie when Elizabeth, walking by his side, made a quick movement. Then with a deep sigh, he resumed his tale. "Because I could not talk about it, it all came out in the form of angry outbursts and irrational behaviour, at least for a while. I will not bore you with each and every incident, but just to give you an idea, one time – and thankfully the only time in my life – I threw away a bowl of food that was placed in front of me. Supposedly because the soup was not what I had wanted, but the truth was that it was the only way I could vent out my frustration and pain."
"Oh, the poor boy..." Elizabeth's heart went out to the lonely fourteen-year-old boy who had been forced to act like a man long before he was.
Darcy swallowed hard as he looked into her compassionate eyes. "Ah... it is all water under the bridge, Miss Elizabeth," he said as he self-consciously tugged at the cuff of his jacket.
"I... I told you this story only because Miss Lydia's behaviour reminded me so much of myself when I was fourteen. She too is experiencing the same upheaval. The loss of her mother, and the fear that the emotional support Mrs Bennet provided will be lost forever. Most likely her behaviour is the manifestation of this pain and fear. But I am confident that with her family rallying behind her, she will soon overcome these challenges," he said with an encouraging smile.
Elizabeth looked up at the smiling man with a feeling almost of wonder. Out of nowhere she remembered one snippet from their conversations from last year at Netherfield. How arrogantly he had then said, "My good opinion once lost is lost forever." Only a few weeks ago he had unequivocally expressed his opinion on Lydia and her family. But just now he had shown that he had enough compassion in his heart, even for those for whom he held no good opinion.
Mr Darcy was certainly a man full of contradictions and she realized – all over again – that she had been too hasty in her judgement of him. All of a sudden, she was curious to know how young Fitzwilliam Darcy had navigated the extremely trying times he had mentioned just now.
"Mr Darcy?"
"Yes?"
"I hope you do not mind my asking but how did a fourteen-year-old boy pull himself out of that angry and irrational phase in his life, all on his own?"
"Um... that is the thing, Miss Elizabeth. I did not do it all on my own. I could not have, and I doubt if anyone – no matter their age - could do it all by themselves."
"So, how did it happen?"
"Fortunately for me, my father entered the room just as I flung the bowl of soup so reprehensibly. Although I did not consider it a fortunate occurrence at the time." He shook his head with a rueful smile and added, "I thought – with good reason – that I was in for a good thra... er... punishment. Ever since I can remember, it has been drummed into me that a Darcy does not disrespect either the food that he grows or the people who work for him."
Elizabeth could not help but be amused at the choice of his words and his slightly pompous demeanour. Mr Darcy was obviously proud of his name – it was evident from the way he spoke. Strangely, his words did not offend her today as they would have, had he spoken in a like manner a fortnight ago. What struck her as still more funny was the realization that if she been from the serving class, Mr Darcy would have been more polite to her in their first meeting than he had been to Elizabeth Bennet, daughter of a gentleman! Now that she thought about it, she had not seen the disdainful Mr Darcy ever being discourteous to any of the servants or house-hold staff either at Netherfield or at Rosings.
Controlling her amusement with difficulty, she asked him, "So, did you? Get the punishment, I mean."
"No, madam, I did not. Fortunately, Father recognized my behaviour for the aberration it was. What I did get instead was an opportunity to talk to him as I had never done before. When I emerged from his study nearly two hours later, my heart still ached for my loss and his, but I also knew that I was not so very alone after all."
There was a brief moment of silence with both of them busy with their own thoughts, then Darcy added ruefully, "So, yes, while the warm hug and the gentle touch indeed went missing..."
"Ah... yes, Darcy men and their stiff upper lip," Elizabeth murmured.
Darcy continued as if the interruption had not occurred. "... But a willing ear and a pat on the back were never far away."
"Hmm..."
"Miss Elizabeth?"
"Yes, Mr Darcy?"
"I think I gave you a wrong impression. Although, my father was understandably strict with me – I was being trained for my future responsibilities as the master of Pemberley after all – but he was much more gentle with my mother and Georgie. Darcy men are... are not so very cold and indifferent as I might have led you to think."
Although his words were presumably intended to correct any misconceptions she might have about his father, there was a message in his dark eyes, which she could not quite decipher. However, it did make her mouth go dry. Disconcerted, she looked away from him and swallowed hard.
"I hope you will forgive me, Mr Darcy, but from what you have told me, I believe your father was not quite fair to his young son," she said a moment later.
"Oh no...," Darcy began, eager to defend his father, but Elizabeth interrupted him with a smile, "Perhaps when you are training your son for his future role, you could try tweaking this Darcy code of conduct - just a little - to include a few hugs, along with the pats on the back."
Now it was Darcy who caught his breath as he stood observing her lovely, smiling face. Her words immediately conjured up an image of a dark-haired young boy in the arms of a petite, dark-haired woman – Elizabeth. Afraid that his expression would reveal his helpless yearning, he looked away hurriedly. "Your suggestion is definitely worth considering, Miss Elizabeth," he replied with forced a smile on his lips.
Elizabeth could see that he was suddenly ill at ease. She felt she had been too forward in her advice and decided to bring the conversation back to its original topic.
"To be honest, Mr Darcy, Lydia's behaviour today shocked me. But the more I think about your assessment the more it makes sense in this case. Perhaps... one of us should sit her down and have a chat with her..." Elizabeth's voice trailed off as she pondered over the best possible person for the role.
"I am confident that you will do an excellent job of assisting Miss Lydia. I still recall how well you looked after Miss Bennet when she was ill at Netherfield last year."
Elizabeth flushed at his admiring expression. As they had talked today, his face has been like an open book. Why had she so completely misread his emotions last year was now a matter of some puzzlement to her. Was it all due to her dislike of him, or had he deliberately tried to shield his thoughts and feelings? Perhaps it was a combination of both, she decided.
~§§§~
Mr Bingley and Jane joined them before any further conversation could take place between Darcy and Elizabeth. Mrs Bennet was still employed in her chaperoning duties. Darcy was quick to notice that none of the newcomers, including Mrs Bennet, looked particularly cheerful. He silently raised a questioning brow at Mrs Bennet and was immediately enlightened.
"Would you believe that in nearly half an hour of conversation not once did they talk about themselves. It was all about my demise, the weather, your trip to Netherfield, Mr Bingley's busybody sisters and even... even Scarborough!
Darcy could not respond, of course, but his expression registered his surprise.
"It was truly the most frustrating half-hour of my life... or should I say my life and my ghostly existence?" Mrs Bennet grumbled. "Could you please ask Mr Bingley to hurry things up a little? Let him not waste time like this when you gentlemen visit Longbourn tomorrow," Mrs Bennet asked after a few moments of frustrated silence.
Darcy sighed. He wanted to remind Mrs Bennet about the difficulties Bingley may be having in bringing up such delicate issues, especially given his own mistakes in the whole story. However, he was not sure if Mrs Bennet would understand, even if he could speak to her. The lady had her own compulsions. He sighed and gave an imperceptible nod.
"Good!"
~§§§~
