Gay Pride and Prejudice (46 page)

“Have you any idea, Lizzy, who this gentleman is? But now it comes out: ‘My motive for cautioning you is as follows. We have reason to imagine that his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on the match with a friendly eye.’
Mr. Darcy
, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy, I think I have surprised you. Could he, or the Lucases, have pitched on any man within the circle of our acquaintance, whose name would have given the lie more effectually to what they related? Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any woman but to see a blemish, and who probably never looked at you in his life! It is admirable!”

Elizabeth tried to join in her father’s pleasantry, but could only force one most reluctant smile. Rarely had his wit been directed in a manner so little agreeable to her.

“Are you not diverted?”

“Oh, yes. Pray read on.”

“‘After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her ladyship last night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she felt on the occasion; when it became apparent, that on the score of some family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my duty to give the speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, that she and her noble admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned.’ Mr. Collins moreover adds, ‘I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia’s sad business has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned that their living together before the marriage took place should be so generally known. I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, or refrain from declaring my amazement at hearing that you received the young couple into your house as soon as they were married. It was an encouragement of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should very strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them, as a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their names to be mentioned in your hearing.’ That is his notion of Christian forgiveness! The rest of his letter is only about his dear Charlotte’s situation, and his expectation of a young olive-branch. But, Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going to be missish, I hope, and pretend to be affronted at an idle report. For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?”

“Oh,” said Elizabeth, “I am excessively diverted. But it is so strange.”

“Yes—that is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other man it would have been nothing; but your mutual indifference to each other makes it so delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins’s correspondence for any consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help giving him the preference even over Wickham, much as I value the impudence and hypocrisy of my son-in-law. And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady Catherine about this report? Did she call to refuse her consent?”

To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh; and as it had been asked without the least suspicion, she was not distressed by his repeating it. She soon excused herself and wandered the grounds at some length, pondering the future that awaited her with an interest she had not previously thought to entertain.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

M
R.
B
INGLEY WAS ABLE TO BRING
D
ARCY
and Caroline with him to Longbourn before many days had passed after Lady Catherine’s visit. The party arrived early; and, before Mrs. Bennet had time to tell Darcy of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in momentary dread, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet and Kitty were not in the habit of walking; Mary could never spare time; but the remaining five set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Caroline, and Darcy kept pace with each other. Very little was said at first; Elizabeth was secretly forming a desperate resolution, as was Caroline; and perhaps he might be doing the same.

They walked towards the Lucases, but continued past without stopping. As soon as the house was lost to sight, Elizabeth decided the moment was right for her resolution to be executed, and, while her courage was high, she immediately said: “I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding either of yours. I can no longer help thanking you both for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to each of you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”

Caroline did not say anything, only looked to Darcy.

“I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted,” replied he, in a tone of surprise.

“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you, Mr. Darcy, had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you both again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble for the sake of discovering them.”

“Do not thank me,” said Darcy, “for it was Miss Bingley’s none-too-gentle reminders of my duty that led to such an involvement in the matter—I may well have turned my back on Wickham’s latest deceit if she had not persuaded me of my own culpability in the matter. But while I was responsible for the negotiations, any pecuniary settlement did not originate from me.” And he looked at Caroline.

She frowned and shook her head slightly at him, but it was too late. Elizabeth had comprehended all in a moment, and now she touched Caroline’s arm hesitantly. “You? It was you?”

“Yes, but I am sorry, exceedingly sorry, that you have been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, give you any uneasiness.”

“Uneasiness!” repeated Elizabeth. “Far from it. You have rescued my family from a certain fall. On their behalf, as well as my own, I cannot thank you enough.”

“If you would thank me,” she replied, her countenance quite serious, “let it be for yourself alone. Your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I must confess, I was thinking only of
you
.”

Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, who was watching them with an air of amused interest that reminded her of her father—perhaps the two gentlemen had more in common than was obvious at first glance. She said, entreatingly: “Miss Bingley, I would talk to you alone if I could.”

Caroline nodded, and they both looked to Darcy. He only offered an enigmatic smile, bowed slightly, and turned back toward the lovers. After he had gone a little ways, Caroline gazed at Elizabeth and said: “Before we continue, Miss Eliza, I must share a piece of news with you. The truth of the matter is that I, well, you see—” She paused, appearing quite affected. “I must inform you that I was in London last week to attend a wedding. My own, as it were.” And as she spoke, she removed her glove, revealing an ancient, ornate diamond ring.

Not this again, thought Elizabeth in dismay. Not another ill-advised marriage; not Caroline, too. Her colour rose, and she bit her lip. Were those tears rising? Embarrassed, she picked up her skirts and rushed away, her need to escape the present scene leading her into the park that belonged to their new Belgian neighbours.

Caroline stared in astonishment, then lifted her own skirts and started after her. She finally caught Elizabeth in a clearing alongside a pretty little stream that burbled and bubbled quietly under the autumn sky. “Miss Eliza—Lizzy—wait!” And she reached out a hand to stop her friend’s headlong dash.

Elizabeth hurriedly wiped a hand across her eyes, letting herself, at the same time, be turned to face the surprised eyes of her companion.

“Is that—are you crying?” Caroline asked, touching her face.

Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause, Caroline added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. For despite my marriage vows, my affections and wishes are unchanged; one word from you, however, will silence me on this subject forever.”

“I do not wish you to be silenced,” Elizabeth said, reaching for her hands. She felt the ring, and held up the traitorous finger. “But you are married. You belong to another.”

“You do not wish me to be silenced?” Caroline repeated, a slight smile beginning to emerge. “Come now, Elizabeth Bennet, I happen to know that your mother schooled you better than that in the art of language, even with so many daughters still at home. If not silenced, then how, exactly, might I go on? What subject could I choose that would interest you?”

Her temper rising, Elizabeth relinquished Caroline’s hand. “It is hardly a matter of amusement,” said she, “that I find myself in love with you, just as you pledge yourself to another in lawful matrimony.”

Caroline clapped her hands in delight. “You, in love with me?”

Unable to prevent a matching smile, Elizabeth cast her eyes upward. “Heaven help me, yes. But I do not even know your name, do I? What shall I call you, Madam—?”

“Madame de Laurent,” Caroline said, her spirits falling just a bit at the reminder of her new station.

“Darcy’s friend?”

“The very one.”

“And do you love him?”

“You know I do not.”

“Does he love you?”

“Of course, he does not,” Caroline said, frowning. “He loves Darcy; they love one another, and have for many years, though they were forced to live apart for some time. Did you truly not know?”

“I had thought, and conjectured; but I did not know.” She paused. “Then it is a marriage of expediency?”

“Entirely. By marrying me, he and Darcy receive respectability. And by marrying him, I gain my fortune, which, according to the papers we had drawn up, he is not eligible to receive except upon my death.”

“I did not know you were in such high need of your fortune. Did your sister threaten you again?”

“No,” Caroline said, and turned away to walk to the stream. “What a lovely spot to which you made me give chase. Are we in any danger of being discovered by the Belgians?”

But Elizabeth would not be so easily distracted. She thought for a moment, her mind hastening from one conjecture to another, and then she said: “It was for Wickham! You married Darcy’s Frenchman so that you could pay my new brother’s debts. You foolish woman. You wonderful, foolish woman.” And she began to cry again.

“Pardon me,” Caroline said, walking back to her side and gently wiping away her tears, “but I take exception to the charge of foolishness. The other I do not mind, because it convinces me that your feelings do, in fact, match mine perfectly.”

“They do,” Elizabeth said miserably, “they really do.”

“Oh, love,” Caroline said, and put her arm around her friend’s shoulders; “it will all work out for the best, I promise. You see, I have a plan.”

“A plan?” Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Does it perchance involve my marrying Darcy?”

Caroline started. “How did you know?”

“We had a visitor a few days ago—Lady Catherine herself, come to warn me to keep my ‘arts and allurements’ away from her sainted nephew.” And she described the old lady’s mannerisms and turns of speech so accurately that Caroline was soon laughing aloud.

“Oh! Wait until Darcy hears!”

“You cannot tell him,” protested Elizabeth. “I could never face him if he knew.”

“He is really not as austere as he seems. Beneath that lordly countenance, he has the heart of a good boy. You would be amazed at just how sweet a man he can be.”

They began to walk back to the road now, knowing the others would miss them soon and eager to prevent any worry in their friends.

“But tell me,” said Caroline, looping her arm through Elizabeth’s, “just how this transformation in your sentiments came about. I must admit, while I had hoped it would be the case, I am still somewhat astonished that you could love me.”

“It is I who am amazed that you could still love me,” said Elizabeth; but feeling a gentle tug on her arm, she began to attempt an explanation as to how her sentiments had undergone so material a change. The happiness which this supplication produced was such as Caroline had never felt before, and an expression of heartfelt delight, diffused over her face, made her lovelier than Elizabeth had ever seen her.

They walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She soon learnt that Darcy had suggested the double marriage as a means of allowing them all to protect themselves within society, yet without the burden of an unequal marriage. By following his plan of action, Darcy had insisted, he and Rémy could be together, and she and Elizabeth could, as well. Besides, she and Elizabeth were the only women he truly liked, other than his own sister. If he were to marry—and, naturally, such a duty was expected of someone of his station—it would have to be to one of them. As Caroline already had a fortune and Elizabeth did not, the choice, he believed, was quite clear.

“At first I was not convinced,” confessed Caroline. “I had rather thought he and I would marry.”

“I knew you were plotting for Darcy’s hand!”

“It would make sense, would it not? We are alike in many ways, although Lady Catherine would probably not entirely approve of my connections, either.”

“At least your family have not distinguished themselves in quite so gratuitous a fashion, as mine have done.”

“Well said.” Caroline dodged the well-placed elbow Elizabeth aimed toward her ribs. “Honestly, I believe Darcy will like the plan all the better as soon as he learns of his aunt’s feelings on the matter.”

“Two declared obstinates, then—what a wonderful couple we would make.”

“Indeed; you are two of my favourite people.”

“And how many favourites do you have, pray tell?”

“Not as many as you might imagine.”

“What of the married friend whose jealous husband drove you from your own home?”