Gay Pride and Prejudice (32 page)

“Mr. Darcy is certainly a good brother,” said Elizabeth, as she walked towards one of the windows, remembering as she did the letters that Darcy had always seemed to be writing at Netherfield.

“This is always the way with him,” said Mrs. Reynolds. “Whatever can give his sister any pleasure is sure to be done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for her.”

The picture-gallery, and two or three of the principal bedrooms, were all that remained to be shown. In the former were many good paintings; but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art; and from such as had been already visible below, she had willingly turned to look at some drawings of Miss Darcy’s, whose subjects were usually more interesting, and also more intelligible.

In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could have little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth wandered in search of the only face whose features would be known to her, and at last beheld a striking resemblance to Mr. Darcy, with such a smile over the face as she thought she had only ever seen directed at Miss Bingley. What lay between Darcy and Caroline? It had occurred to her to wonder before, but never so avidly as at this moment, in the gentleman’s home. In the beginning, Elizabeth had believed Caroline wanted Darcy for a husband, and viewed herself as a rival for his affections. Clearly that had never been the case. Caroline had written that Darcy knew everything there was to know about the details in the letter; and yet he remained a steadfast, intimate friend. As she gazed at his likeness, she remembered a moment at the Netherfield ball, when Caroline had proposed that men of their persuasion had a more difficult time than women, given the necessity of living a public life, and had fixed a curious look upon Darcy. Had she meant that Darcy—but it could not be, could it? And yet it would explain so much if Darcy, like Caroline and Elizabeth, preferred the company of his own sex.

As she gazed at Darcy’s likeness, there was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth’s mind, a more open sensation towards the original than she had ever felt at the height of their acquaintance. To think that he may in fact share her own nature, was a compelling enough reason to release what little remained of her former dislike of the man. The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs. Reynolds was of no trifling nature, either. What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant? Elizabeth had misjudged so much, and almost now wished for the opportunity to share with Caroline her new understanding. But Miss Bingley would not, could not want to see her again, not after the way she had behaved at their last meeting. She still blushed to think of it, though her feelings for the lady had long since reconstituted themselves into something tolerably close to genuine regard.

When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen, they returned downstairs, and, taking leave of the housekeeper, were consigned over to the gardener, who met them at the hall-door. As they walked across the hall towards the river, Elizabeth turned back to look again; her uncle and aunt stopped also, and while the former was conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road, which led behind it to the stables. They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was his appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes instantly met, and he absolutely started, and for a moment seemed immovable from astonishment; but shortly recovering himself, advanced towards the party, and spoke to Elizabeth with perfect civility: “Good day, Miss Bennet. What a welcome surprise to see you again.”

She had instinctively turned away; but stopping on his approach, now received his compliments with careful composure. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. And you, as well.” She coloured a bit, realizing that as they were currently at his home, the surprise was rather more inclined to belong to him. Her blush was not only due to her choice in words, however. With her new insight, she could not doubt that he was aware of at least the general gist of her scene with his friend, if not particular details, and now looked closely to see if his gaze held even a hint of censure. It did not, only a generally welcoming earnestness and perhaps, if she read him correctly, a spark of interest.

Had his first appearance, or his resemblance to the picture they had just been examining, been insufficient to assure the other two that they now saw Mr. Darcy, the gardener’s expression of surprise on beholding his master must immediately have told it. They stood a little aloof while he was talking to their niece, who answered calmly his civil inquiries after her family. But her calm was forced; every idea of the impropriety of her being found there recurring to her mind, the few minutes in which they continued were in fact decidedly uncomfortable. Darcy, however, seemed much at ease, inquiring after the time of her having left Longbourn, and of her having stayed in Derbyshire, with such solicitude, as left her wondering at the direction of his thoughts.

At length a servant approached from the house, and Mr. Darcy took his leave, wishing Elizabeth well on her journey.

The others then joined her, and expressed admiration of his figure; but Elizabeth only followed them in silence. Her coming there was the most unfortunate thing in the world. How strange it must appear to him, as if she had purposely thrown herself in his way—in Caroline’s way, for that was how it must seem. Had they been only ten minutes sooner, they should have been beyond the reach of his discrimination; for it was plain that he was that moment arrived. She blushed over the perverseness of the meeting. And his kind, attentive behaviour toward her—what could it mean? That he should even wish to speak to her was amazing after her previous behavior, but to speak with such civility? She knew not what to think, or how to account for it. Surely if Caroline had detested her, Darcy must as well, given the binds of loyalty. But he had allowed not a hint of disapprobation to show.

They had now entered a beautiful walk by the side of the water, and every step was bringing forward a nobler fall of ground, or a finer reach of the woods to which they were approaching; but it was some time before Elizabeth was sensible of much of it; and, though she answered mechanically to the repeated appeals of her uncle and aunt, and seemed to direct her eyes to such objects as they pointed out, she distinguished no part of the scene. Her thoughts were all fixed on that one spot of the country, wherever it might be, where Miss Caroline Bingley then was. She longed to know what at that moment was passing in Miss Bingley’s mind—in what manner Caroline thought of her, if at all, and whether, in defiance of everything, she still held Elizabeth dear. Perhaps Darcy had been civil only because he felt himself at ease; yet there had been something in his voice which was not like ease, something of a pleased interest in unexpectedly beholding her again that she knew could not extend from any personal stake.

At length, however, the remarks of her companions on her absence of mind roused her, and she felt the necessity of appearing more like herself.

They entered the woods, and bidding adieu to the river for a while, ascended some of the higher grounds. Mr. Gardiner expressed a wish of going round the whole park, but feared it might be beyond a walk. With a triumphant smile, the gardener explained that it was ten miles round. The matter settled, they pursued the accustomed circuit; which brought them again, after some time, in a descent among hanging woods, to the edge of the water, and one of its narrowest parts. They crossed it by a simple bridge, in character with the general air of the scene; it was a spot less adorned than any they had yet visited; and the valley, here contracted into a glen, allowed room only for the stream, and a narrow walk amidst the rough coppice-wood which bordered it. Elizabeth longed to explore its windings; but when they had crossed the bridge, and perceived their distance from the house, Mrs. Gardiner, who was not a great walker, could go no farther, and thought only of returning to the carriage as quickly as possible. Her niece was, therefore, obliged to submit, and they took their way towards the house on the opposite side of the river, in the nearest direction; but their progress was slow, for Mr. Gardiner, though seldom able to indulge the taste, was very fond of fishing, and was so much engaged in watching the occasional appearance of some trout in the water, and talking to the man about them, that he advanced but little.

Whilst wandering on in this slow manner, they were again surprised, and Elizabeth’s astonishment was quite equal to what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy approaching them, and at no great distance. The walk here being here less sheltered than on the other side, allowed them to see him before they met. Elizabeth, however startled, resolved to appear and to speak with calmness again, if he really intended to meet them. He did. With a glance, she saw that he had lost none of his recent civility, nor the hint of amused curiosity; and, to imitate his politeness, she began, as they met, to admire the beauty of the place.

Mrs. Gardiner was standing a little behind; and when Elizabeth paused, Darcy asked her if she would do him the honour of introducing him to her friends. This was a stroke of civility for which she was quite unprepared, as he undoubtedly shared Caroline’s repugnance toward her connections. “What will be his surprise,” thought she, “when he knows who they are? He takes them now for people of fashion.”

The introduction, however, was immediately made; and as she named their relationship to herself, she stole a sly look at him to see how he bore it, and was not without the expectation of his decamping as fast as he could from such disgraceful companions. That he was surprised by the connection was evident; he sustained it, however, with fortitude, and so far from going away, turned back with them, and entered into conversation with Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth could not but be pleased. It was consoling that he should know she had some relations for whom there was no need to blush; he might well be expected to pass on this information to Caroline. She listened most attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, his taste, or his good manners.

The conversation soon turned upon fishing; and she heard Mr. Darcy invite Mr. Gardiner, with the greatest civility, to fish there as often as he chose while he continued in the neighbourhood, offering at the same time to supply him with fishing tackle, and pointing out those parts of the stream where there was usually most sport. Mrs. Gardiner, who was walking arm-in-arm with Elizabeth, gave her a look expressive of wonder. Elizabeth said nothing. Her astonishment, however, was not minor, and continually was she repeating, “Why is he so altered? It cannot be for Caroline’s sake that his manners are thus softened. It is impossible that she should still love me.”

After walking some time in this way, the two ladies in front, the two gentlemen behind, on resuming their places, after descending to the brink of the river for the better inspection of some curious water-plant, there chanced to be a little alteration. It originated in Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the exercise of the morning, found Elizabeth’s arm inadequate to her support, and consequently preferred her husband’s. Mr. Darcy took her place by her niece, and they walked on together.

Elizabeth spoke first: “Your arrival earlier was very unexpected, for your housekeeper informed us that you would certainly not be here till tomorrow; and indeed, before we left Bakewell, we understood that you were not immediately expected in the country.”

He acknowledged the truth of it all, and said that business with his steward had occasioned his coming forward a few hours before the rest of the party with whom he had been travelling. “They will join me early tomorrow,” he continued, “and among them are some who will claim an acquaintance with you—Mr. Bingley and one of his sisters.”

She tried to resist what she knew to be a purposeful bait, but found she could not. “And which sister would that be?”

“Miss Caroline Bingley,” said he, his voice deepened by suppressed laughter.

Vainly did she attempt to ignore his triumph. “Is Mrs. Hurst not a member of the party, then?”

“She is not. The good lady and her husband were persuaded to return north some time ago.”

Caroline and Bingley, without Louisa, then—Elizabeth recalled a line from the letter, scrawled in the lady’s flowing hand: “I am determined to extricate myself from my sister’s snare, and to leave her company for that of friends who will embrace me without censure or disgust.” It seemed she had managed to do so, after all. Elizabeth could not hold back a small smile of satisfaction.

“You appear to take pleasure in this news,” said Darcy. “Could it be, you are not a particular admirer of Mrs. Hurst’s?”

“I am not.” Elizabeth lifted her chin and looked into his eyes. “And I believe you know my reasons.”

“Indeed,” he answered with a slight bow, more serious now. “I verily do. There is also one other person in the party,” he continued after a pause, “ who I am aware wishes to be known to you. Will you allow me to introduce my sister to your acquaintance during your stay at Lambton?”

The surprise of such an application was great indeed; it was too great for her to know in what manner she acceded to it. She immediately felt that whatever desire Miss Darcy might have of being acquainted with her must be the work of Miss Bingley. It was gratifying to know that Caroline must not think very ill of her if one of her favourites wished to make Elizabeth’s acquaintance.

They now walked on in silence, the warm day offering plentiful bird song and a breeze that carried with it the sweet scent of honeysuckle. They soon outstripped the others, and when they had reached the carriage, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were half a quarter of a mile behind.

He then asked her to walk into the house—but she declared herself not tired, and they stood together on the lawn, again without speaking. He seemed to know that her mind was full of questions about the months since they had last met, and he waited, giving her more than ample opportunity to loose her tongue. But she could not. Caroline even now was making her way to Pemberley, and would be here on this very spot the following day. This fact seemed almost too much to grasp. The event which Elizabeth had dreaded only this morning now appeared as an occasion to which she actually believed she might be looking forward. Or possibly not. Oh, how she had disgraced herself the last time she was in Caroline’s presence! And yet here was an intimate of the lady’s treating her with a diffidence and a courtesy that seemed to argue against any great bitterness on Caroline’s part.