A/N: I am so, so sorry about the long wait for this chapter! Three of my professors decided to kick-off the second semester by giving us research projects, so I've been unable to much outside of those. Thankfully, I believe the bulk of the work is behind me, so I should be able to get back to weekly updates. Also, I'm sorry that this chapter is shorter than usual. I had originally intended for this to be apart of a larger chapter. I'm not completely satisfied with it, but I wanted to get something out to you guys, and I didn't want to rush through Lizzy's point of view.
Madeline and Edward Gardiner sat in the small garden behind Longbourn, staring at the letter before them in bemusement. Both had re-read the missive at least three times, yet neither was sure what to make of it.
With their journey to Derbyshire less than a week away, they had been quite relieved to receive a response from the Fitzwilliams, eager as they were to have set plans for the journey. Naturally, they needed to know if they would actually be spending their month at Craigspeak or if they would be forced to seek alternative arrangements.
They did not get the answer they were expecting.
July 5th, 1812
Madeline Gardiner
Gracechurch Street - Redirected to Longbourn, Hertfordshire
My dear friend,
That is wonderful news! Andrew and I are so glad that you can spend part of your summer with us, even if it is only one month. We shall have much to discuss, I am sure.
I do not believe it possible to forget the massive trout that Edward caught - my husband speaks of it quite frequently. One would think that two years' time would be enough to blunt the edge of his jealousy, but the man is determined to see your husband's record broken. I imagine you and I will have quite a show to watch this summer. Let us just pray they do not get pulled in again.
Now, my friend, I must move on to a rather delicate topic. In your letter, you mentioned that your niece, Lizzy, has been out of sorts since returning from Kent. I understand your concern more than you know - my nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy, has also been in low spirits since the spring. I am sure the name sounds familiar to you, as it is the very same Fitzwilliam Darcy who stayed at Netherfield last autumn with his friend, Charles Bingley. Netherfield, I understand, is only three miles from Longbourn, which is home to your relatives, the Bennets.
I must be frank with you, Madeline - my nephew is hopelessly in love with your niece, Elizabeth Bennet. And I do believe that this is what has led them both to their present grief.
I do not know how much Miss Elizabeth has told you of her acquaintance with Fitzwilliam, but I can only assume that you do not know the whole story. I shall not recapitulate every detail, as it is exceedingly complicated, and my poor hand is not up to the task. All you need know is that, over the course of his stay in Hertfordshire, my nephew fell in love with your niece. He returned to Town hoping to forget her, but he found himself unable to do so. When he made his annual trip to visit my sister-in-law, Lady Catherine, he was quite surprised to find Miss Elizabeth already there. After some deliberation and much agony, he proposed.
Yes, you did read that correctly. My nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy, proposed marriage to your niece, Elizabeth Bennet, while they were in Kent.
I doubt you will be surprised to learn that she refused him - quite vehemently, actually. I do not blame the girl, of course. He told us of his behavior in Hertfordshire, as well as his proposal - which I shall not repeat - and both were abhorrent. In fact, I would think her very undignified had she actually accepted him after such a poor display.
When Fitzwilliam returned from Kent, he was more dejected than I have ever seen him. He barely ate, he rarely spoke, and, just like you, we could not discover the source of his despondency. However, he eventually told us of all that transpired between them, and he expressed his infinite regret at having behaved in a manner that drove the woman he loves away. I truly do not think I have ever heard a man so self-recriminating.
Much as I grieve for him, I cannot pretend that your niece's words had an undesired effect. She sparked a very great change in Fitzwilliam and, in doing so, addressed an issue with his character that we, as his family, should have attended to long ago. He has always been a kind boy, but loss drove him to pride. Conceit became his close acquaintance, and he often treated those outside his inner circle of friends and family with disdain.
Through Miss Elizabeth's influence, he has since mended his ways. I have seen him taking great pains to speak with people outside of his acquaintance, and he does so with an air of equality. I do not think the residents of Lambton and Kympton have ever admired any so much as they now admire him - I should love for you to hear what your old Lambton friends would say.
I do not tell you all this without reason, my friend. Andrew and I have a significant favour to ask of you and Edward. Would you be willing to spend your month at Pemberley, my nephew's home, instead of Craigspeak? It is a strange request, I know, but I am certain you understand my motives.
I cannot claim to know your niece's heart. Much as the thought pains me, I am not so foolish as to disregard the possibility of her still disliking Fitzwilliam. At present, she has no real reason to think better of him, save for a bitter explanation given hastily in writing. All I ask for is a chance to change her opinion of him. Perhaps nothing will come of it, but I can not allow this opportunity to pass by.
Please, Madeline, bring her to Pemberley. You should not lie to her, of course, and I would never adjure you to do so, but we do not want to frighten her away before she even arrives. If you were to come to Pemberley under the guise of simply touring it, we could meet you there and make our offer in person. Your niece would see that she is welcome and that Fitzwilliam took her condemnation to heart.
I know we are asking a lot, and I will not think ill of you should you refuse - but I implore you to at least consider it. I assure you, we do not wish to cause your niece any pain or discomfort. I swear that her feelings will be respected. If she is truly uneasy at Pemberley, we will happily relocate our party to Craigspeak. If, God forbid, her feelings remain unchanged, nothing will be forced upon her. All we ask for is a chance - whatever develops from that chance will be accepted, no matter how undesirable.
If, perchance, you do decide to come to Pemberley, please tell Edward that Fitzwilliam's trout stream is even more well-stocked than ours. He and Andrew will have much to do, and I'm sure a competition will be had. I am also happy to inform you that all our children are home for the summer, and they are eager to meet you again. It has been far too long, and I fear they can no longer put a face to the name.
I so look forward to seeing you, my friend, regardless of your answer. I hope that we may meet your niece - with all Fitzwilliam had told us, I imagine her to be quite a delightful woman. In the meantime, please let us know if there's anything we can prepare to make her more comfortable at the prospect of staying with us.
I hope to see you very soon.
Best wishes,
Penelope Fitzwilliam
The wind pulled at the edges of the paper, threatening to scatter the pages about the countryside, but Madeline's grip remained steadfast - not, perhaps, out of caution but more out of shock. In truth, the contents of the letter had caught the Gardiners entirely off-guard. Mr. Darcy was in love with Lizzy? The same Mr. Darcy she had aspersed so fervidly last autumn? Surely, it could not be true. Elizabeth had been quite certain of his disesteem, and she had plainly admitted her own distaste for the man.
Still, they could not deny that Penny wrote with great conviction. She could have no sensible impetus for fabricating such a falsehood, and the Countess was not one to lie, especially to her friends. There was even a hint of desperation in her tone of writing as if she were fighting the inclination to beg for their acceptance of her plan.
Thus, the Gardiners were forced to contend with the fact that Penny was very much in earnest. Mr. Darcy was in love with their Lizzy...and he had proposed! Was that truly the origin of her present gloom? Did she regret rejecting him? Whatever the answer, it was abundantly clear that there was far more to the story than they had been told. They had, of course, suspected as much, given their niece's recent reticence, but this was not at all what they had envisioned.
Madeline's gaze finally left the paper in front of her, eyes landing on her husband. He was still embroiled in the missive, scanning over it rapidly in an attempt to find some sort of joke. He found none, of course - Penelope was entirely serious.
"What...what should we do?" He asked softly.
"I do not know," his wife responded. "It is a strange request, is it not?"
Edward nodded, whispering, "She disliked him. We know she disliked him."
"Indeed," Madeline laughed, "But he obviously does not dislike her, despite her prior convictions."
"Did he not call her tolerable?"
"I doubt any man would propose to a woman he found only tolerable."
Edward huffed, pulling at his cravat in frustration. "Should we just...ask Lizzy? We cannot force her into his company."
"We also cannot cajole her into speaking on a subject she clearly wishes to avoid," his wife rejoined.
It certainly was a tricky situation. Madeline was half of a mind to simply refuse their offer. Lizzy had rejected him - was that not a clear indication of her feelings on the matter? All feelings are subject to change, of course, but even Penny admitted that Lizzy would have no reason to think better of Mr. Darcy. For Heaven's sake, they had never heard her speak a kind word about the man! How could the Fitzwilliams speak of love when Lizzy did not even like him?
Yet what of her recent behaviour? Much as Madeline may wish to deny it, the timing seemed far too convenient to be mere coincidence. This change in humour had only prevailed upon her return from Kent - immediately after Mr. Darcy's proposal. Surely, Lizzy wouldn't be in such low spirits if she did not regret the events of the spring. But did she regret them enough to be in his company again? It was a lot to ask that a woman reconvene with a man she had previously rejected, no matter how resilient said woman may be. This, Madeline knew, was the central issue.
Whatever their actions, the Gardiner's inevitably ran the risk of injuring someone, and the thought was less than comforting. Should they refuse, Mr. Darcy may be grieved at the loss of such propitious opportunity. Should they accept, however, Lizzy may feel herself betrayed. The tiniest part of Madeline - a part which was easily overcome by an abundance of reason and a clement nature - was a bit incensed at the Fitzwilliams for placing the onus on them. Who were they to decide the fate of the young couple?
She voiced as much to her husband, who jokingly replied, "Come, my dear, you sound like my sister!" Upon realizing that his wife did not find the comparison so very humorous, he gave a more sincere reply. "We would not be deciding their fates. Whatever our actions, their future is still very much in their own hands. Even if we do bring them together - for that is all we can do - they must be the ones to make the connection. You know as well as I do that such a thing cannot be forced."
Though Madeline recognized the sense in her husband's words, she still felt uneasy. "Do you not think it unfair to Lizzy? Perhaps she regrets how things played out, but that does not necessarily mean she wishes to see him again."
"Very true," Edward conceded. "And to trick her into his home when we do not know her feelings seems almost cruel." He thought for a moment, weighing their options. Again, there did not seem to be a clear answer - the advantages seemed equal to the disadvantages, and the possibility of suffering was ever-present on either side. This decision, he knew, would be incredibly simple if they were only aware of Lizzy's present opinion of the man. Did she truly wish to see him again? Was it right to mislead her so?
"We cannot ask outright," Madeline said leerily, "But perhaps I can try an indirect approach."
"How do you mean?"
"If I mention Mr. Darcy, she may give me some hint as to her feelings on the matter."
"I suppose that could work," Edward commented thoughtfully. "It is worth a try, at the very least." Their niece, though well-composed in times of tension, was not inscrutable - certainly not to them. Her face may very well betray her, even if her tongue will not.
With great fixity of purpose, Madeline stood. Her husband, surprised by the action, instinctively grabbed her wrist. "You're going now?"
She nodded. "Lizzy is at Oakham Mount. You know she will not tell me anything if her mother is near. Now is as good a time as any, and we cannot keep the Fitzwilliams waiting too long."
Mr. Gardiner let out a sigh as he kissed his wife's hand - unflinchingly stalwart, even in so precarious a position. She was a pertinacious sort, and he knew that any attempts to protract their plan would now be met with failure. Whatever Lizzy's response, he was certain that Madeline would get what she wanted.
And Madeline Gardiner wanted her niece to be happy.
