The next morning, as he rode to the Red Lion Inn in Lambton, to meet the Gardiners, and their niece (especially their niece!), Mr. Darcy reviewed how the start of his campaign to win the hand of Miss Elizabeth Bennet had gone the previous day.
Rather well he thought. And, as he had not confided his plan with anyone else, his opinion could not be contradicted.
The fishermen had not caught enough fish to allow Pemberley's 'French' chef (M. Pierre La Bouche, née Peter Brown, of Billingsgate and environs, whose entire French vocabulary consisted of culinary terms, and terms of abuse, unleavened by gender or grammar, and whose sublime mastery of French cuisine, had all been learned from an authentic French chef who had departed Paris when heads had started to depart from shoulders) to prepare a true, which is to say, proper fish course, but he was able, as only he could (he expected to receive, and in due course, did receive, suitable and reassuring expressions of gratitude for his genius from the master) to produce from the proffered fish an hors d'oeuvre for the enjoyment of the diners.
And Elizabeth teased him and her uncle for allowing her to have a 'taste' of their catch, and said she couldn't eat another bite 'because there wasn't enough for another one'. Everyone laughed, and then groaned, when, in response, he tried, and failed, to make a pun out of minnow and minute.
After dinner there had been no separation of the sexes, as he and Mr. Gardiner had spent enough time together that day, and he wanted to spend as much time as he could with Elizabeth. Georgiana had volunteered (she who had to be coaxed to play for him alone had volunteered!) to play and had played two sonatinas by Pleyel. It was too much to ask for her to accept the appreciation of her audience with aplomb but at least she did not retract into a ball of shyness.
Then his sister, so timid that she dared not ask for a second helping of pudding when it was just the two of them dining, he had to anticipate her wish, dared to ask Elizabeth to perform, although she did so, so diffidently and bashfully, that he thought he might be called upon to translate. But Elizabeth was gracious, and after a little pro forma self-deprecation, she accompanied herself as she sang 'Robin Adair.' Unlike Georgiana, who stared at her score as she played, Elizabeth engaged her audience, and he was sure, he would swear, that she was looking at him as she sang 'And if thou still art true, I will be constant too, And will wed none but you, Robin Adair.'
And then his sister, as if granting him the third of three wishes, indicated a wish to play whist, a wish he had never before heard, or ever expected to hear, her express, and as if pre-arranged, which he now thought likely, the Gardiners and Mrs. Reynolds had indicated that they thought that was a marvelous idea and soon they were set up at a table across the room cutting cards for partners.
Leaving him and Elizabeth to entertain themselves. After an exchange of nervous smiles, he took a paper out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. "I showed this to your uncle this afternoon and he thought you might like to see it."
He watched her read it, three times, and then she said "I don't know why lawyers use three words when one will do. If I've parsed this correctly, it says that you paid Mr. Wickham three thousand pounds and in return he gave up any and all claims to assistance in the church." After he agreed she looked him in the eyes and said "I believed what you said in your letter, you didn't have to show me this."
He shrugged "There's an old saying 'trust, but verify'…" he sighed "… which brings up someone who trusted what I told him, but didn't verify it for himself."
"Mr. Bingley. Did you tell him to go see my sister at Gracechurch Street?"
He sighed again. "I told him what you told me about your sister. I didn't tell him to go see her. Going to see her was entirely his own decision. In fact, he made it resoundingly clear that he never wanted me to tell him what to do ever again." He looked at her for several beats and then asked "If you can, can you tell me what your sister said to him."
"What did he say she said?"
"I haven't seen him since. He did send me a note that just said 'The lady said no'."
"Well, according to Jane, after calling him several names, some of which he deserved, she sent away without giving him a chance to speak. It was not as mild as that sounds. My aunt … " Elizabeth gestured towards the card players "… who witnessed it all, told me to 'imagine an avenging angel bringing the wrath of God to a mortal'."
"That bad. So there's no hope for him."
"I wouldn't say that. Will he return to Netherfield?"
"I don't know. I did see Hurst and he told me Bingley had thrown them, the Hursts and Miss Bingley, out, closed up his house, and headed south west, towards Cornwall, looking at estates for sale." He squinted at Elizabeth. "If your sister sent him away, why does it matter if he returns to Netherfield?"
"Jane told me that when Mr. Bingley returns to Netherfield – note that she said 'when' not 'if' - she will apologize to him, hear him out, and then they will meet as indifferent acquaintances."
"But?" When Elizabeth tilted her head at him, he continued "There must be a 'but' at the end of that sentence."
She laughed. "But I think that if, when, he returns, they will find that they are in as much love with each other as ever."
"So, there's still hope for him."
They stared at each other; each seeing something alluring in the other's eyes.
Elizabeth whispered "There's always hope." Then she -
Mr. Darcy was startled out of his reverie as his horse entered the outskirts of Lambton.
