Chapter 26

Church

Cheapside

Sunday Morning

The parson stood at the pulpit at the head of the church and looked around, gathering the attention of the murmuring congregation. For all that Mr. Simkin was close to sixty years of age, he had a penetrating eye and a certain presence, and within a minute, the congregants were as silent as a tomb.

Simkin nodded gravely in approval, turned his attention on the great Bible placed on the lectern in front of him and began to speak.

"If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.

6 But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed.

7 For let not that man think that he shall receive any thing of the Lord.

8 A double minded man is unstable in all his ways.

9 Let the brother of low degree rejoice in that he is exalted:

10 But the rich, in that he is made low: because as the flower of the grass he shall pass away.

11 For the sun is no sooner risen with a burning heat, but it withereth the grass, and the flower thereof falleth, and the grace of the fashion of it perisheth: so also shall the rich man fade away in his ways.

12 Blessed is the man that endureth temptation: for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love him."

Elizabeth leaned back in her seat as the sermon began and found her gaze drifting to the handsome stained glass windows on either side of the pulpit. They were quite lovely, the tell-tale ripples of crown glass visible even at this distance. The painted scenes depicted several occurrences from the New Testament; the nativity of Jesus with the humble shepherds kneeling in awed worship, His baptism and the descending dove, His death upon the cruel cross, and then an empty tomb surrounded by a profusion of flowers in the next panel.

She listened rather absently to the sermon, her mind dwelling on the passage of Scripture that the parson had just read. It was slightly uncomfortable, now, hearing of the fate of a rich man. She herself was considerably wealthy; it still astonished her slightly every time she contemplated that fact.

Eventually, rich or poor, her life, too, would pass away. It would be entirely too easy to get caught up in the lifestyle led by the wealthy aristocrats of England, as her generous inheritance would allow her to live lavishly. But would such a life be pleasing unto God? After all, that was what was most important, not a meaningless life of luxury and ease, but one of servanthood to the Almighty, blessing those around her.

There was much good she could do with her wealth. Perhaps donations to the church or charities? Assisting her family, of course, that went without saying. Perhaps she should marry some kindly gentleman and bear many children, bringing them up well and in plenty, laying aside her money for their futures.

None of it convicted her. Indeed the thought of marriage filled Elizabeth with resignation tinted with sorrow. Though she would admit readily to desiring a husband and children, she had realized some years ago that such an eventuality was unlikely. She was well aware, not only from her mother's comments, but those of her father and the townsfolk and her own reading, that she was an unusual woman. She would not settle for anything less than true compatibility in marriage, and though her options were now greatly increased in number, she had not found much encouragement in the men who had proposed to her thus far.

Indeed, the only man whom she felt drawn to was richer than she was. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, who was, according to Mr. Wickham, engaged to Miss Anne de Bourgh, mistress of the grand estate of Rosings. Not, of course, that Mr. Wickham could be trusted, not in the least! But Mr. Collins, serving as a clergyman under the haughty auspices of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had said the same.

Why was she so drawn to Mr. Darcy? Was it merely that he was so wealthy that she did not need to worry about him chasing her merely for money?

But no, it was more than that. The man was intelligent, a generous and kindly brother, and a good master ... and she found his face to be quite easy on her eyes. No, he was quite the epitome of perfection, if one could set aside his occasional rude remark in country assemblies. It was a pity that he was neither interested nor available.

Further down the pew, her Aunt Madeline shifted slightly and smoothed a wrinkle out of her skirt, eyes still on the preacher. Elizabeth contemplated her aunt and uncle for a moment.

They were even wealthier than she, with Aunt Gardiner's inheritance of ninety thousand pounds and the house on Half Moon Street. They were fabulously wealthy, even. But being tradesmen and the offspring of tradesmen, their new riches did not open the same doors to them that Elizabeth's money and status as daughter of a landed gentleman had. She had missed them, Elizabeth realized. She was grateful she and Jane had chosen to attend church with them. To be here, in fellowship with other devout men and women, was feeding her soul in a way that the lavish parties filled with superficial guests most decidedly had not.

Uncle and Aunt Gardiner would use their money wisely, Elizabeth knew. Perhaps it would be simpler for them, already married and with children, to decide what to do with their funds. They could use the money to secure their children's future or expand Uncle Edward's business. Or they could even retire comfortably, if they so wished, but Elizabeth did not think they would take such a course of action; they were both very industrious people and seemed to enjoy their work.

Perhaps she would solicit her uncle's advice on what to do with her own funds. He was a godly, just, and kind man. He would advise her well, and his assistance would make the whole situation less overwhelming. She certainly did not want to be foolish with her blessings.

Again, the words echoed in her head. For the sun no sooner rises, but it withers the grass and the flower ... so also shall the rich man fade away..

She was very blessed to be a rich woman, but life would pass quickly for both the poor and the rich. She resolved to use her wealth, and her very life, in an honorable and godly way.

/

In Lord Talbot's Curricle

Grosvenor Street

London

"I am very honored, my lord, but I fear I must say no," Elizabeth said kindly.

Lord Talbot sighed deeply, though he kept his eyes on his very handsome team of chestnuts who were trotting cheerfully down the cobbled street.

"I thought it was too much to hope for," he said a minute later. "You are certainly one of the most handsome, charming, intelligent ladies in all of London and worthy of the highest position. But I felt I must at least try."

Elizabeth genuinely liked Lord Talbot, but she was quite certain that if she were impoverished, he would no more offer for her than for a goldfish. Nonetheless, she was appreciative of his gracious acceptance of her refusal.

"I hope we can at least be friends, sir," Elizabeth said.

"With pleasure," the gentleman replied genially.

/

Hyde Park

A Few Days Later

Elizabeth took a deep breath, relishing the crisp freshness of the air. The carriage had deposited its passengers at the entrance to the park before the driver had taken it to wait elsewhere. Beside her, Jane said with satisfaction, "Oh, the others are already here!"

Elizabeth turned her attention to where her sister was looking. Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy on his arm, and Richard Fitzwilliam with his sister Rachel on his arm, were approaching. "I believe we are only awaiting Lord Talbot now," she remarked.

Darcy doffed his hat as he came up to the Bennet sisters. "Good morning, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth."

His eyes dwelt a moment on Elizabeth's radiant face as she nodded and turned towards the rest of the party, saying, "Good morning, Miss Fitzwilliam, Colonel, Mr. Darcy! It is a delightful day, is it not?"

"Very delightful," Richard agreed, grinning in return to Elizabeth's infectious bright smile, and Darcy's breast tingled uncomfortably with longing and yes, jealousy.

Clopping hooves drew their attention, and they all turned just in time to see Lord Talbot dismounting and handing his horse off to a boy who ran forward to take the reins. His lordship approached with a smile. "Good morning, ladies. Gentlemen." A polite nod. "Shall we?"

The group began strolling down the nearest trail at a leisurely pace, the two large footmen who had accompanied the Bennet sisters falling properly behind a few steps. It was not the brisk march Elizabeth usually so enjoyed, but as she buried her hands deeper into her sensible brown fur mitt, she found herself too entirely grateful to mind, given her fine walking company. There were few others out in the park at this early hour. Indeed much of society would still be abed at only ten in the morning, and thus the Bennets and their party were free to wander and laugh without myriad prying eyes on them.

The earliest flowers were peeking up through the mud in patches of white and purple, unfurling their petals to catch the sun and attract any intrepid bees braving the nip in the air. A faint green haze sat over the trees, the first leaf-buds starting to emerge and soften the harsh gray lines of the branches. Squirrels and birds skittered through fallen leaves and slush, or chattered and scolded from branches. A gray-feathered tit swooped down to perch in a bare bush, watching the walking party pass by with a bright beady eye and cocked head before darting off again on business of his own.

The group drew to a stop at a fork in the trail, each path wandering off a little ways away from the others, within seeing distance but not earshot, before converging again further along.

"Which way shall we go?" Darcy asked, looking at each path.

Jane stepped forward to peer down the right-most fork. "I should very much like to go this way," she said. "I should like to see more of the flowers."

"I too like the look of this path," Richard agreed, offering his arm, and one of the Bennet footmen fell silent in behind them.

"I wish to see the river," Elizabeth said, looking ahead. "That is the left-hand path, is it not?"

"It is," Darcy said gravely. "I too wish to observe the river. Georgiana?"

"I will come with you, brother." She looped her mittened hand over the sleeve of his heavy coat.

Lord Talbot and Rachel Fitzwilliam, deep in conversation, scarcely seemed to notice the breaking of the party, wandering straight ahead and diverging to neither left nor right.

The Darcys and Elizabeth, shadowed by the remaining footman, halted on the bank of the Serpentine, taking a few minutes to admire the play of the sunlight across the burbling water. A drift of snowdrops had grown up out of the muddy bank, nodding their shining white heads in the bright spring light.

"I have never been to Hyde Park at this hour," Georgiana remarked. "It is so peaceful and quiet!"

"It is wonderful," Elizabeth said rapturously, gazing around in wonder. "I have been driven around the Park several times for the Promenade, but there are so many people at that hour that one can hardly pay attention to the joys of nature!"

Darcy clenched his teeth at this remark as a surge of jealousy filled his breast, followed by a sinking feeling of despair. He knew, of course, that Elizabeth was being pursued by many a fine gentleman, and while he took some hope in the fact that she had not accepted an offer yet, there was no doubt that she had many options other than a stoic, sometimes rude gentleman from Derbyshire.

Nor, as far as he knew, did she have the slightest awareness of his adoration for her. She was friendly with him and was on excellent terms with Georgiana, but there was no sign of love in those fine brown eyes.

"Oh," Georgiana cried out, "there is the keeper's lodge! Might we purchase some milk?"

There were dramatic moans from Elizabeth and Darcy, followed by a shared grin, and Elizabeth asked, with an expressive grimace, "Do they only have milk?"

"They have syllabub and cheesecake as well," Darcy reassured her.

"Jane!" Elizabeth exclaimed, calling over to her sister, who was deeply in conversation with the colonel. "Shall we enjoy a cheesecake?"

There was a chorus of agreement from the entire party, and they all moved towards the quaint little cottage with its open shutters, neatly trimmed bushes, and wooden sign above the door proclaiming Milk. The keeper, a cheerful woman of middling age and ample proportions, proved more than happy to serve cheesecakes and syllabubs and glasses of foamy milk to all who wanted it.

Darcy found himself enchanted by Elizabeth, as she laughed aloud at some droll remark he had made, about sheep, he thought. She smiled at him brightly as her laughter died, and he smiled back instinctively and took a bite of syllabub. Was this, he wondered, what 'being in love' was like? He did not actually know. He had never had someone fall in love with his person before; only his wealth and status. Many women had simpered at and flattered him, hoping to win his favor and his money. He had never had someone display attraction to him.

Elizabeth looked down at the plate and fork in her hand, but he did not take his eyes away from her. How would he know, after all? Whether she liked him or not? No, he decided, he would not give up all hope just yet.