Chapter 46 - Lovesick Fool
Darcy paced the length of Netherfield's morning room, too restless to settle to any occupation. So much had changed over these past months, yet he found himself in an impossible position - knowing Elizabeth's heart might be his, but unable to speak of it. The conventions of mourning would keep them apart for months to come, first for her father and then for William Collins. Even when he could finally propose, their marriage would have to wait still longer. It could not appear hasty, not after everything that had happened.
The forced silence and waiting were nearly unbearable. Every glimpse of her only strengthened his conviction of her regard, while simultaneously reminding him of the propriety that must keep them apart.
His restless pacing brought him near the window just as Georgiana spoke. "Brother, Mr Bingley, the Miss Bennets have come."
Bingley immediately abandoned his newspaper, hurrying to join Georgiana.
"Excellent! I have not seen my dear Jane in two days." His friend's unrestrained enthusiasm only highlighted Darcy's need to maintain his own composure. Though he longed to rush to the window like Bingley, he forced himself to remain where he was, despite his certainty that Elizabeth would be with her sister - they had agreed, after all, that she would call this morning.
He had dressed with particular care, choosing his navy coat that morning with deliberate attention. The day promised to be fine, not too warm - perfect for the garden walk he hoped to suggest. It would give them a chance to speak privately, away from Caroline Bingley's ever-watchful eyes.
Caroline Bingley chose this moment to rise from her seat, stretching with calculated elegance, her eyes fixed on Darcy. He was painfully aware of her attention but refused to be drawn from his thoughts of Elizabeth.
"Shall I ring for some tea, Charles?" Her voice held that particular note of assumed authority that always reminded Darcy of a poor imitation of his aunt Lady Catherine.
"Please, Caroline," Bingley replied absently, not taking his eyes from the approaching carriage. His friend's complete indifference to his sister's attempts at managing the household brought Darcy a moment of grim amusement.
"For heaven's sake come and sit down, Charles," Caroline snapped, her composure slipping in her irritation. "You are acting like a lovesick fool."
The irony of her words was not lost on Darcy - he who had spent the morning pacing like a caged animal at the prospect of seeing Elizabeth. Bingley merely grinned, completely immune to his sister's censure, and turned from the window just as the butler appeared to announce their guests.
"Mrs Gardiner, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet," the butler announced with proper gravity. Darcy forced himself to remain still as the ladies entered, though every fibre of his being urged him forward. Elizabeth appeared last, and the sight of her - no longer in full mourning black - nearly undid his careful composure.
"Ladies, you are very welcome," Bingley said, immediately claiming Jane's hand and leading her to a seat. Darcy envied his friend's freedom to show such open affection, even as he forced himself to maintain proper distance from Elizabeth. He managed the expected polite greetings, though he barely registered what was said. His attention was caught by the way the morning light caught the hints of auburn in Elizabeth's hair.
For a moment, Darcy wavered - every instinct urged him to claim the seat beside Elizabeth, as Bingley had done with Jane. But propriety and the weight of Caroline's watchful gaze made him choose the safer option of sitting beside Georgiana. At least from his position opposite Elizabeth, he could observe her without drawing attention. His sister's presence beside him would help him maintain his composure, though it did nothing to lessen the effect of Elizabeth's direct gaze when their eyes met.
"So Mr Collins' brother has arrived at Longbourn," Caroline said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. Darcy tensed as she leaned toward Elizabeth, lowering her voice to a stage whisper clearly meant to be heard. "How difficult it must be for you, Miss Eliza, to meet the brother of your fiancé."
Darcy's hands clenched involuntarily at this deliberate reminder of William Collins, though he noticed Elizabeth remained remarkably composed. Indeed, there was a glint in her eye that suggested Miss Bingley might soon regret her attempt at malice.
Though Darcy couldn't catch Elizabeth's exact words, the flash of discomfort across Caroline's face and her forced, humourless laugh told him Elizabeth had managed to deflect the barb with her usual wit. He found himself having to suppress a smile of his own.
Mrs Gardiner's diplomatic intervention provided welcome relief from the tension. "I have come to see you, Mr Bingley, to tell you that my husband, children and I are returning to London in the next few days. After Mr Collins' funeral, of course." Darcy noted the shadow that crossed Elizabeth's face at this reminder of both her aunt's imminent departure and the upcoming funeral.
"You have been in Hertfordshire for quite some time now, have you not?" Bingley asked, his tone gentle. Darcy recognized his friend's attempt to acknowledge the Gardiners' support of their nieces during this difficult period without directly mentioning their losses.
"Indeed, and we would be staying longer for the sake of our dear nieces, and of course Mrs Bennet," Mrs Gardiner replied with the quiet dignity Darcy had come to admire in her. "But Mr Gardiner has been away from his business for too long now."
Darcy found himself wondering if there might be some way to delay their departure - surely his influence in London's business circles could help arrange matters for Mr Gardiner. But no, that would be overstepping, and Elizabeth's pride would never allow such interference.
"We shall be very sad to see them go," Miss Bennet said softly. "You have been such a comfort to us, Aunt, in such a difficult time." Darcy watched Elizabeth reach for her sister's hand, the gesture speaking volumes about their shared grief and gratitude.
"You will indeed be missed, Mrs Gardiner," Caroline added with what Darcy recognized as her company manners - polite words that held no real warmth. He noticed Elizabeth's barely perceptible flinch at her aunt's imminent departure being reduced to such empty pleasantries.
"It will be some months before we will see Jane and Elizabeth again," Mrs Gardiner continued, her words catching Darcy's full attention. "We have been planning a trip to the lakes in June, but as the girls will still be in mourning, we intend to go in October, so that they might join us."
October. Darcy's mind immediately began calculating. Elizabeth would be out of mourning by then. The thought of her travelling through his beloved Derbyshire, seeing the peaks he had explored since childhood, visiting places that held such meaning for him - it stirred something deep within his chest. Perhaps by then…
"Why, that does sound delightful!" Bingley exclaimed with his usual enthusiasm. Darcy barely heard his friend's words, his mind already racing ahead to possibilities.
"Where are you planning to visit on your trip?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and casual, though his heart quickened at the thought of Elizabeth potentially visiting Pemberley.
"Dovedale, Chatsworth, the peaks, Duddon Valley and several other places," Mrs Gardiner said. "I would like to see Lambton again. It has been many years since I was there."
Darcy's pulse quickened at the mention of Lambton - merely five miles from Pemberley. He found himself watching Elizabeth's face as she smiled slightly.
"Our plans are not yet settled," she said, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment. "We had planned to travel around and see where we ended up, rather than having a particular plan."
The hint of mischief in her expression made him wonder if she knew exactly what effect the mention of travelling through his home county was having on him.
"How delightful to travel around the countryside aimlessly, not knowing where you will be staying," Caroline said with her usual condescension. Darcy bristled at her attempt to diminish Elizabeth's pleasure in the proposed journey, though he noticed Elizabeth seemed more amused than offended by the barb. Mrs Hurst's affected laugh behind her handkerchief only heightened his irritation.
Bingley, bless him, seemed to sense the tension. Turning toward Darcy with deliberate cheerfulness, he asked, "Are you still planning to go to Pemberley over the summer?"
The question presented an opportunity Darcy had scarcely dared hope for.
Darcy forced himself to pause before answering, though his heart was racing. He allowed himself one glance at Elizabeth, catching her eye for a moment, before carefully choosing his words.
"Rather like the Miss Bennets and Mrs Gardiner, my plans are not fully settled yet either," he said, striving to keep his voice casual. "I do intend to spend some time in Derbyshire this summer, but maybe we should do it later in the year." He hoped his meaning was clear to Elizabeth, while appearing merely a general comment to the others.
The image of Elizabeth walking Pemberley's paths, exploring its woods, standing in its library - it threatened to overwhelm him completely. She would be out of mourning by then, free from the shadow of William Collins. He forced his thoughts back to the present moment before his expression could betray him.
"How would you like to see some of the lakes, Georgiana?" he asked, grateful for his sister's steadying presence. "We have not been to see them in several years now."
"Oh yes, please, brother!" Georgiana answered excitedly. Darcy noticed her quick glance between himself and Elizabeth, and wondered if his sister had already guessed at his plans.
Gathering his courage, Darcy turned back to Elizabeth, though he addressed her aunt. "Then all that remains," he said, his voice steadier than he felt, "is for me to invite you and your husband, and of course the Miss Bennets, to stay at Pemberley for some of your stay, if you would not mind having myself and Georgiana along on some of your trip." He held his breath, watching Elizabeth's face from the corner of his eye.
Mrs Gardiner's broad smile reassured him. "I can't answer for Lizzy and Jane," she replied warmly. "However, I would be delighted to see Pemberley again. It has been many years since I last was there."
Darcy noticed with relief that Mrs Gardiner's mention of previous visits to Pemberley seemed to catch Elizabeth's interest.
Darcy turned to Miss Bennet, who was, as ever, looking at Bingley. "And Miss Bennet," he added, knowing his friend would appreciate the inclusion, "I will extend the invitation to include Mr Bingley if you would like?"
"That would be lovely, Mr Darcy," Miss Bennet replied with her characteristic gentle smile. "Mr Bingley has told me quite a bit about your home and it sounds delightful. I think Lizzy in particular would love the gardens and grounds. You know how fond she is of walking."
Her knowing reference to Elizabeth's love of walking made Darcy's heart leap - had Bingley perhaps mentioned his own habit of walking the grounds? Did Miss Bennet suspect his feelings for her sister?
Darcy could no longer resist turning his full attention to Elizabeth. She sat next to her aunt, hands folded neatly in her lap, the very picture of composure - until she raised her eyes to meet his. The directness of her gaze nearly undid him.
"Miss Elizabeth," he managed, his voice somehow steady despite his racing heart, "would you like to join us at Pemberley?"
The word 'us' felt like a compromise - how he longed to say 'me' instead. But with Caroline watching and his own uncertainty about Elizabeth's feelings still plaguing him, he dared not be more direct. He could only hope that Elizabeth would understand the deeper meaning behind his careful phrasing.
"I would like that very much, Mr Darcy," she replied softly, her voice carrying a warmth that made his pulse quicken.
The matter settled - though 'settled' hardly described the tumult of emotions her acceptance had stirred in him - Darcy found himself barely attending to the subsequent conversation. He needed air, needed movement, needed some way to master his racing thoughts.
"Perhaps we might take advantage of the fine weather?" he suggested, seizing upon the first excuse he could find to escape the confines of the drawing room. "The gardens are particularly pleasant this morning."
"Oh yes, the rose gardens," Caroline immediately interjected, clearly determined to maintain some control over the situation. "It is really quite charming there."
The rest of the party readily agreed to the walk - all except Mr Hurst, who had fallen asleep in his chair and showed no signs of stirring. Darcy watched with growing relief as Mrs Gardiner deftly engaged Caroline and Mrs Hurst in conversation, effectively neutralizing what he had feared would be constant interference.
This left Miss Bennet, Georgiana and Elizabeth free to walk with Bingley and himself. While not the private conversation he craved with Elizabeth, it was more than he had dared hope for - a chance to speak with her away from Caroline's sharp eyes and sharper tongue. His sister's presence beside Elizabeth felt right somehow, as if the future he longed for was already taking shape.
ooOoo
Elizabeth found herself unusually aware of Netherfield's gardens as they stepped outside, comparing them to Longbourn's more practical plantings. Where Longbourn's gardens spoke of generations of genteel economy - the herb garden her mother tended, the fruit trees her father had inherited - Netherfield's grounds displayed the kind of ornamental beauty that spoke of wealth and leisure. She couldn't help but wonder what Pemberley's gardens might be like, then caught herself, remembering she wasn't supposed to be thinking of such things yet.
Her thoughts drifted to Longbourn's familiar layout - the practical vegetable gardens tucked behind the kitchen, her mother's cherished herb garden with its lavender, mint, and sage, the modest flower beds that graced the front of the house. Most dear to her was the wilder area to the side, where apple trees and blackberry bushes grew in cheerful disorder. That spot had been her refuge since childhood, a place where even her mother's nerves couldn't reach her. Now, walking Netherfield's manicured paths, she felt a pang of nostalgia for those less formal spaces. Soon enough, someone else would know those secret corners of Longbourn - Mr James Collins, so different from his brother, yet still the master of her childhood home.
Her mother had always lamented that "wild corner," as she called it. "If your father had any sense of propriety," she would say, "we'd have neat flower beds there, like the Lucas's." Elizabeth smiled faintly at the memory - how like her mother to want everything properly arranged and displayed, just as she wanted her daughters properly arranged and displayed for eligible gentlemen. The irony that her mother's matchmaking had succeeded with Jane despite the untidy gardens was not lost on Elizabeth.
Netherfield's grounds stretched out before them, everything arranged with elegant precision - exactly the sort of garden her mother had always coveted. Elizabeth could almost hear her raptures: "Such refinement! Such taste!" The rose gardens that Miss Bingley had suggested were particularly grand, though Elizabeth found herself missing the cheerful disorder of her father's wilderness. Still, she couldn't help wondering if Pemberley's gardens might combine such elegance with something more natural. Mr Darcy seemed to understand the appeal of both beauty and wilderness, if his appreciation for country walks was any indication.
Elizabeth found herself between Mr Darcy and his sister as they walked, Jane and Mr Bingley ahead of them, lost in their own world. The silence stretched between them, heavy with things that could not yet be said. Elizabeth was acutely aware of Mr Darcy's presence beside her, of the careful distance he maintained even as his every gesture seemed to draw her closer. His invitation to Pemberley still rang in her ears, its deeper meaning impossible to ignore.
Miss Darcy seemed equally hesitant to break the silence, though Elizabeth caught her stealing glances between her brother and herself. Knowing she must say something to ease the tension, Elizabeth cast about for a safe topic. Music - yes, that would do. Miss Darcy had spoken of it often enough, and it would give them all something to discuss that wouldn't betray the emotions simmering beneath the surface.
The moment Elizabeth mentioned music, she felt the tension ease. Mr Darcy's shoulders relaxed visibly, and Miss Darcy's face brightened as she eagerly described her latest pieces. Elizabeth found herself drawn into a pleasant discussion of composers and techniques, though she couldn't help noticing how Mr Darcy watched her as she spoke with his sister.
"I hope that you will have a chance to play together when we are all at Pemberley?" he said, his voice carrying that particular warmth that never failed to make her pulse quicken. There it was again - that hint of future possibilities that both thrilled and unsettled her.
Elizabeth smiled, though she felt her cheeks warm under his gaze. "If Miss Darcy is content to tolerate my poor playing, I would be happy to," she replied, deliberately understating her ability - a habit that felt safer than acknowledging the real reason for her sudden self-consciousness about performing at Pemberley.
"You must not say such things," he replied with unexpected intensity. "Your playing is anything but poor." Elizabeth felt her breath catch at his defence of her abilities - how different from the early days of their acquaintance when he had barely acknowledged her performance at Lucas Lodge. The change in his manner, like so many other shifts in their relationship, both delighted and discomposed her.
"I am not really as skilful as Miss Darcy is," Elizabeth protested, though she found herself oddly touched by his defence. She glanced at Miss Darcy, hoping to include her in the conversation again - these moments when Mr Darcy's attention focused solely on her were becoming increasingly difficult to navigate with propriety.
"You have a lovely voice and spirit to your playing, which gives it a life of its own," he continued, his earnestness making Elizabeth's usual defences waver.
"You mean I sing loudly," she parried, falling back on wit to steady herself. The familiar pattern of their teasing felt safer than the intensity of his praise.
"Not at all, I have always enjoyed your performances immensely."
"That might say more about your taste than my skill!" The words came out more flirtatiously than she'd intended, and she saw Miss Darcy's eyes widen slightly.
"I would be delighted to play with you, Miss Elizabeth," Miss Darcy interjected quietly, her tone suggesting she was trying to help navigate the increasingly charged exchange between her brother and Elizabeth.
Elizabeth smiled warmly at the younger girl, grateful for her intervention. "You must not mind my teasing of your brother. I don't mean any harm in it, as well he knows." Though they both knew, she suspected, that her teasing carried more meaning now than it once had.
Miss Darcy drifted away shortly after, ostensibly to examine the roses more closely. Elizabeth wasn't sure if the girl was giving them privacy deliberately or merely escaping the tension, but she felt both grateful and alarmed at being left alone with Mr Darcy.
ooOoo
With Georgiana's tactical retreat - for Darcy was certain now that his sister understood more than she let on - he found himself struggling even more to maintain his composure. The playful banter with Elizabeth had awakened visions of their future: quiet afternoons in Pemberley's gardens, Elizabeth and Georgiana at the pianoforte, the three of them sharing such easy conversation. The temptation to speak of these hopes nearly overwhelmed his careful restraint.
Elizabeth turned to him suddenly, her expression softening. "I wanted to thank you for inviting us in October," she said, her voice carrying that particular warmth that never failed to affect him. "The last few weeks have been very difficult and it is good to have something to look forward to." She paused, and Darcy found himself holding his breath, hoping she might say more about their shared future, however obliquely propriety required them to discuss it.
"I am glad I am able to help in whatever way I can," he replied, struggling to keep his voice steady. His fingers ached to reach for her hand, to offer the comfort of touch, but he was painfully aware of their position - though others might not hear their words, any gesture of intimacy would be immediately noticed. He could only hope that his eyes conveyed what his actions could not, that Elizabeth could read in his expression all that propriety forbade him to say.
She smiled up at him as they turned down a new path, her expression thoughtful. "So much has happened since we were last here together. When dear Jane was ill."
The memory of that earlier walk struck him forcefully - how blind he had been then, fighting his growing attraction to her, letting his pride direct his behaviour. He had walked these same paths with Miss Bingley, deliberately avoiding Elizabeth even as his eyes had sought her out. Now, to have Elizabeth beside him, to be planning her visit to Pemberley - the contrast between then and now made his heart swell.
The memory of that particular encounter flooded back - he had been walking with Miss Bingley, enduring her endless prattle while secretly hoping to encounter Elizabeth. When they had come upon her with Mrs Hurst, he had barely trusted himself to speak, afraid his growing regard would be evident in his voice.
"Indeed, but I hope we have come to be-" he paused, searching for a word that could bridge the vast gulf between what they had been then and what they were becoming now. "Good friends in that time." The phrase felt woefully inadequate, but it was all propriety would allow him to say in their current circumstances.
"Good friends," she said with a laugh that held a hint of something more. "Yes, indeed." Then her expression sobered. "You were so kind to my father in his days. Without Doctor Russell to tend him, I am sure he would have been in much worse pain before the end."
Darcy's heart clenched at the mixture of gratitude and grief in her voice. He had done what little he could for Mr Bennet, though he would have moved heaven and earth to spare Elizabeth this pain. That she recognized his efforts, appreciated them even, meant more to him than he could express.
He wanted to tell her how he had done it for her, but he couldn't, not yet at least, so he settled for offering her his arm. When she placed her small hand in the crook of his elbow, their fingers somehow found themselves intertwined, the intimate gesture hidden by the fold of his coat. His heart racing at this small liberty, they walked on, drawing further away from the rest of the party.
Note - That's it for this week, hope you all have a lovely weekend and thanks again for the support.