Chapter 9

Lizzy struggled to reconcile the two Mr Darcys of her acquaintance. The one she greeted in the bookshop had been much like the one she had first encountered the day she arrived to nurse her sister. Remembering her initial discomfort under his relentless stare, she struggled to maintain a pleasant outlook. The looks he had given her had seemed a mixture of disdain and curiosity—as though she was some lower status oddity who had the audacity to ruin his breakfast. Her confession to Jane that his behaviour reminded her of someone she had met before, but could not place once again crossed her mind. Next the positive recollection of her opinion improving over the next two days replaced her previous misgivings. She had thoroughly enjoyed their conversations at Netherfield. Today his manner had reverted to her first impression, but this time his disapproval had seemed tinged with horror.

When Linus had told her who was waiting and he wanted books in Italian, she had felt such a rush of pleasure. Mr Darcy had obviously heard of her meeting Isabelle. To be honest, she had hoped for such a response even despite telling Esther she had no such expectation. But how had he known to seek her out at the bookshop?

The memory of her disappointment when he did not appear at the assembly in Lambton returned. For days, she had imagined finally dancing with him only to have her dream thwarted by his nonattendance. Surely his plan to give her a present of a book in Italian was an indication he still valued her friendship.

The beauty of the terrain managed to turn her troubled mind. They were heading up a much steeper incline than before. There was a clearing up ahead, and she ceased worrying about Mr Darcy's intentions and allowed anticipation to excite her senses.

Upon arrival at the summit, he helped her down from the curricle and together they walked to the edge of a craggy outcropping. She stared in breathless wonder at the magnificence of the view below. For a moment she was overwhelmed by so many emotions—the realization of her own insignificance most prominent. A momentary feeling of uncertain vulnerability caused her to take his arm. As she held on tightly, an errant desire came upon her. She could think of nothing but him kissing her—just as George Wickham had done in Vauxhall Gardens. She cast a quick glance sideways to see how he reacted to the closeness her grip on his arm created, but all he showed her was stoic contemplation.

"This is splendid Mr Darcy. How did you know I have often thought about someday climbing a mountain just so I could know how things would appear from such a height? I spent much of my childhood on a hill near Longbourn looking down over the meadow, but it was nowhere near as majestic as this. I cannot thank you enough for giving me this present."

"I owe you much more."

She knew not what to make of his puzzling reply. Since he seemed to not know what to say next, she began questioning him about what they were viewing. He was very generous in telling her all she wanted to learn about the scenery below. Once he perceived she was finished viewing the scene, he walked her to a bench provided for those who came to see the sight. He fetched the basket and offered her the delights, his housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds, had provided. She chose a chicken drumstick, an orange and two of his cook's best creations, a little cake called a madeleine. All was delicious. They ate in silence. He had brought tea for them to drink which he had kept warm with heated rocks. Mr Darcy was more thoughtful than any man she had ever met. He seemed to be collecting his thoughts for some announcement.

After she finished, he looked down at her hands folded in her lap. It was her impression he was contemplating holding them. He obviously decided against the gesture and just began speaking. "Miss Elizabeth, you deserve comfort and security, and as a gentleman, I am dutybound to provide that for you. Since our time alone in the library at Netherfield, I have tried to determine what was the right thing for me to do. You told me no, but when I spoke to your father and realized his callous abandonment of you… his disregard for your well-being… it just will not do. Now today, I learn you have been degraded even further by being made to work in a shop."

Elizabeth felt obliged to maintain a calm demeanor. His words about her father were true, but his reservations about her fallen status were difficult to bear. She sat in silence listening to him, praying she would not offend him with any sign of her discontent. He spoke well, but there were feelings beside those of his duty as a gentleman to her to be detailed and they were not ones of love. His words of the need to provide for her welfare, were followed by his trepidation at paying such a heavy price with regards to his status by having to stoop so low to marry her. He spoke warily of her inferiority… of its being a degradation, but he said the words none the less—though they were freely combined with his enjoyment of her company. Just when she thought he was finished, he raised family obstacles to contend with…particularly he must worry about his sister's reputation. It pleased her to observe he did not seem much concerned about what the Earl and Countess of Matlock would think of his marriage. She learned she could cease teaching at Mrs Thatcher's immediately. Lastly, he let her know she would never again have to endure selling books from this day forward.

She was unsure whether she wanted to laugh or to cry with his pronouncements for her future. How could he not perceive his words were not the best to recommend his suit? And yet she knew he meant well, and she must act appropriately. Mr Darcy was once again looking at her hands which were tightly clenched into fists. She immediately relaxed them and prepared herself to answer.

"Mr Darcy, it is reassuring to have someone who cares so sincerely for my comfort and security. I truly appreciate your proposal, but upon hearing your many reservations I do not believe it wise for me to accept. We both know it would be foolish for the Master of Pemberley to marry a shop girl from the neighbourhood."

He blurted out a response. "But you are a gentleman's daughter!"

Lizzy took a deep breath to control herself before answering. She allowed her voice to contain the firmness of resolve she felt he needed to hear but combined it with the sweetness she knew she could rally. "No, I am the disowned daughter of a gentleman! As you said, I was discarded by my indolent father—because protecting me was too much bother. From my earliest memories, I believed my Papa cared for me deeply. My life will never be the same living with the knowledge that his unconditional love was not enduring. His betrayal for such a petty need as tranquility has made me extremely cautious. I would prefer not to put you in a similar position."

"I would never abandon you!"

"I believe that true, but my goal is to make my way without becoming a burden to anyone. I accepted the kindness of Mr Goodwin, who was a complete stranger to me, because my dear Aunt Maggie arranged a place for me in his household."

"Does he force you to be one of his shop girls?"

"No, I persuaded him to allow me to work there. Mr Darcy, unlike Cinderella, I am not looking for a prince to save me from my degrading status. It troubles me that you believe I am."

"Why do you continue to call me Mr Darcy when Linus calls you Lizzy?"

"You have never given me permission to call you by any other name. I thought it improper." She could not help but giggle a bit as she added, "Although, I have often thought about you as Fitzwilliam since our conversation in Netherfield's library and wondered about your marriage quest." Her reference to their discussion about The Marriage of Figaro brought a slight smile to his troubled countenance. She paused to allow him to speak. When he did not, she continued.

"Please call me Lizzy. I value your friendship. There is no man I enjoy conversing with more than you. With you talk is always more than just the weather or the state of the roads. Besides, it was you who gave me the courage to attempt a new way to live."

"I did?"

"Yes, you seemed to know what I meant about being able to escape the restricted life I was born into. You even seemed to have some regrets about your own life."

"Yes, I did."

She prayed he was coming to understand her hopes for something different than her previous existence. "Mr Goodwin is paid a very small amount by my Uncle Gardiner. Helping him in one of his businesses is the least I can do to pay for my keep."

"Are you well provided for?"

"Yes, Mr Darcy. I have a room with a fire both at Mr Goodwin's and at Mrs Thatcher's where I share with Miss Golden, much like I shared with my sister Jane at home."

"You may call me Fitzwilliam."

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam. I am honoured you think highly enough of me to allow it."

"I offered to marry you. Of course, I admire you."

She took his hands and forced him to return her gaze before she spoke. "I have seen too many marriages that did not result in even contentment for the couple. My parents are at war with each other. You proposed to Isabelle. Imagine what your life might have been like had the marriage happened."

He did not appreciate her argument about the woman who had jilted him. Pulling his hands away from hers, he practically spat out his next words. "It is equally as ridiculous for you to have agreed to marry George Wickham. I know him much better than you know the Countess of Matlock. Believe me, your life would have been miserable with him."

His vehemence on the subject was unexpected. She hoped her answer would allow him to see reason. "I said yes to protect my family from ruin." Lizzy paused as her mind went back to that time and her finger touched her lips. "I should never have kissed him back…. But it was so…"

Now he took her hands. "But you have lost your consequence in the world."

"Yes, but my life is far from miserable. I have food and shelter… I have acquaintances I enjoy spending time with… Most importantly, I am learning new things that allow me to dream."

"You could have both with me."

"Fitzwilliam, think sensibly. We have both been spared unhappiness. My point is simply that neither of us should make another mistake. Let us remain friends."

They sat in silence, holding hands, for several minutes. Finally, he stood up and pulled her up beside him. "Miss Elizabeth, you have given me much to consider. It is time for me to return you home."

Melancholy descended upon her with his ceasing to call her Lizzy.

Fitzwilliam Darcy was lost in thought as he began the drive back to Lambton. Understanding what had been the defects of his proposal was his main objective. He had not imagined any need to display passion in his quest, as she knew nothing of their kiss. Perhaps he should have used words of ardently loving her. He was not entirely certain whether that was the truth. And yet, the idea of kissing her again was often contemplated. Hie was completely unsure what it meant to love. He had thought he had found it with Isabelle.

He had expected Lizzy's acceptance of his deliberately rational gambit. Despite Richard's warning of not thinking through what exactly he wanted, he had planned his approach carefully. It was to have been so simple. He was to ingratiate himself by buying her a book in Italian, take her to a place where she could see a spectacular view just as she told him she wanted that night in Vauxhall, feed her some delectables and propose—ensuring she truly knew he understood his duty. Later, after she accepted, he would give her the ring as a token of his sincerity.

BUT! He never even managed to arrive at the point in his speech where he assured her he was not Bluebeard. To begin with, he had never actually been able to buy the gift he meant for her. Aye that was the rub, he could hardly have been expected to stick to the script, when she was the one to sell him the book. The memory of calling her a shop girl caused regret. Even if it was true, he should not have said it. He knew, despite appearances, she was far beyond such a station.

Currently, many of the details of her refusal seemed to elude him. Being fixated on her lips and their kiss throughout most of her rejection was remembered. Her mention of the occurrence when explaining why she had agreed to marry Wickham pricked at his conscience. Recollection of those particular words having caused an intense jab of jealousy, especially when she stroked them in memory of the event. Despite the provocation, he had not been able to admit his guilt. It seemed most important at that moment she think him a gentleman. Truth be told, he suspected her rejection was totally reasonable, but it still left him feeling bereft.

He would have preferred being able to sulk the entire trip back, but he was not to be so lucky. She was asking him about Italy and whether he had ever been. His affirmative answer unleashed a torrent of curiosity filled questions, and he was soon transported from his despair.

"What cities did you visit?"

Venice was studiously omitted. An admission of his action in Vauxhall needed to be avoided today. Instead of tales of that city, he rattled on about Rome, Milan, and Florence.

His mention of Florence caused her to become animated. She explained how Miss Golden had lived in Florence with her parents until she was thirteen and knew so much about the Renaissance and art. "She is using a book by Georgio Vasari, it is titled Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects to aid her in teaching me Italian. It is fascinating. Did you see David when in Florence?"

"I saw both of them—Michelangelo's and Donatello's."

"I have not learned about Donatello's yet."

"It is smaller and hardly as imposing, but still quite impressive."

"What was the first thing you thought when you saw the one by Michelangelo? Was it that he looked like you?"

He slowed the curricle so he could look at her. "Why do you say that?" Her words caused him to recall the teasing of Bertie and Richard remarking on a resemblance. Since the statue was completely naked and his organs seemed small, all Darcy could remember was being mortified at their mocking words. How would Miss Elizabeth know about such things?

"Because Esther, Miss Golden, told me so."

"Have I met her? "

"No, but she saw you talking to me at The Laughing Dog Inn that day."

"So, in her opinion what do I have in common with that David? Does she see me as seventeen feet tall? Or perhaps I impressed her as one who would look majestic standing naked in a town square?"

His words caused her to lose herself in laughter. He enjoyed the sound, despite the possibility of it signifying ridicule toward him. He waited patiently for her composure to return. "No, she mentioned your hair, and your head, you have similar curls and your head is big like David's. She also mentioned the way you were standing with your weight on one foot. See, she saw you from behind, and had scrupulously studied the statue's posterior."

Darcy was struck by how observant her friend was. "Was there anything else?"

For some reason, his Lizzy of Vauxhall Gardens, turned bright red with his question. She shook her head in the negative and inspected her hands for the next few seconds. He suspected Miss Golden had mentioned David's genitals. The sensation of her thinking of him in that way was uncommonly stimulating.

Suddenly, she spoke and broke him away from his erotic thoughts. "Vasari spoke of the figure's divine flanks when I read his description. I would so love to see them someday." He wondered whether she imagined seeing his.

After that exchange, both of them lapsed into dreams of the future for the remainder of the journey to Mr Goodwin's home.

When they arrived, he asked her about her plans for the holidays. She gave him a much more detailed account than he had asked for or expected.

I will spend Christmas and New Year with Mr Goodwin, Mrs Swift, and her son. Recently Miss Golden explained to me about her holiday, Chanukah. We lit candles and exchanged small gifts. She made very thin pancakes the way she learned from her Italian mother when she came to Mr Goodwin's house during the eight days. They were scrumptious. She filled them with a sweet cheese, cooked them in butter and we ate them with jam. Mr Swift ate ten of them. It is my opinion because of the way he looks at her, they will soon become betrothed. She will be invited to our Christmas and New Year festivities. Mrs Swift taught me to make mince pies and Christmas pudding. Did you know that Jewish people have a different New year? It is called Rosh Hashana. There will be an Assembly in Lambton on Twelfth Night. It will be a masquerade."

He watched as she became thoughtful. She once again touched her lips before speaking again. "I was in costume when Mr Wickham kissed me in Vauxhall Gardens. I still have the mask. I plan to wear it and Mrs Swift and I will make over one of her old gowns. What are your plans?"

"I promised my sister and Colonel Fitzwilliam I will be with them at Matlock for Christmas and New Years. This is the first time since their wedding Georgiana and I have agreed to spend time with them. I owe it to my cousin to be there for him. He will be returning to Spain or Portugal in May. The three of us will spend January at Pemberley, travel to London in February, and visit my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh and my cousin Anne at their estate Rosings in Kent for Easter."

"Fitzwilliam, I wish you joy for all the holidays in your immediate future."

"The same to you, Lizzy." There was a momentary delay before he added, "and may I say, you are indeed the most rational creature of my acquaintance." The look she gave him as the curricle pulled away was first a broad smile, but when he looked back for a last glance, he saw her pleasure had melted into confusion.