Longbourn to London (11 page)

“I have been taking my walks at midday.” Elizabeth looked out the dining room windows. “Now the rain has come, it seems I have done myself out of the activity that has become so necessary. Perhaps I can convince Jane to practice dancing if Mary will play.”

“Jane and I must get to Meryton for a fitting the very instant this rain stops,” her mother informed her. Mrs. Bennet was unwilling to risk her eldest daughter to wet weather, unlike the year before. “I shall not have you set her all aglow before we must be at Miss Cassandra’s, Lizzy. I shall not have Jane perspire on her bridal gown. Let Kitty dance with you.”

So this is how it is
, Mrs. Gardiner observed.
Fanny gives Lizzy no quarter. Why did I think the security of seeing two daughters very well married would change her?
“Lizzy, if it is no inconvenience to your mother, perhaps we can converse privately in the small sitting room. I have some suggestions for your gown and trousseau, and
nightgowns
…and so forth.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened; she nodded and looked down at her plate, which she had scarcely touched. Mrs. Gardiner noticed Elizabeth had not taken her usual hearty helpings, and was chasing a morsel of ham around her plate without seeming to want to catch it. Mrs. Gardiner reflected upon the previous evening and recalled it had been much the same at dinner, even with Mr. Darcy by her side. Elizabeth was too discomfited to eat.

“Oh, yes, Lizzy! You and your aunt must make lists first; it so aids the shopping. You will be much less likely to forget anything. No one needs the back sitting room now, Sister.” Mrs. Bennet was delighted to have Elizabeth out from underfoot and in someone else’s charge. “Take as long as you like. Once you have organised yourselves, you can begin placing your orders tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Sister, you are most obliging,” Mrs. Gardiner replied, perceiving the motives of her sister-in-law. “Whenever you have finished eating, Lizzy, we can take our tea in there.”

Once settled across from each other in two armchairs behind a closed door, Mrs. Gardiner had the chance to examine Elizabeth particularly. It was extraordinary to see her vivacious niece sitting still, staring at the folded hands in her lap. Elizabeth looked tense and tired. Mrs. Gardiner was sincerely cross when she said, “Elizabeth Bennet, I am astonished to see you behaving like a lamb being led to slaughter.”

Elizabeth met her aunt’s eyes with alarm.

“You, of all people, should know to think sensibly and consider the source of all you have heard. To put it bluntly, your Aunt Phillips is the town sot, and your mother wishes to make marital relations sound horrific so neither you nor Jane will anticipate your vows. I prefer to believe you and Jane will be
most
pleasantly surprised when the time comes, especially you, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth gaped at her aunt, her mouth opening like a beached perch.

“Close your mouth, dear. You will catch flies. Now honestly, Lizzy, what are you afraid of? That the man you adore will not treat you with consideration and affection? To have earned the love of a man of Darcy’s intelligence and nobility, to say nothing of his obvious
physical
superiority to any other man
I
have ever seen, well, it should make you proud of yourself, not fill you with trepidation. He is ready to dote on you if you will get out of your own way and let him!”

“He
is
gorgeous, is he not?” Elizabeth whispered. “I have never told him so, but now we are betrothed, and he looks at me the way he does, Aunt, it is all I can do not to
throw
myself at him. I am much more fearful of myself than of him.” She looked into her aunt’s kindly eyes, and continued. “The dreams I am having! I am certain they are provoked by what I have been told will happen, but I am appalled to not be more…ashamed by what I have envisioned. I judge myself a thorough wanton when I awaken. Yet, what I dream seems so real and
so
overwhelming. I have dreamt that he—”

Mrs. Gardiner put her hand up. “Stop right there, Elizabeth. I have no wish to know your dreams. Do not disparage them, to be sure, but only share them with Mr. Darcy. Do not encourage other women to envy you.”

Elizabeth looked confused. “Envy me?”

Mrs. Gardiner started to chuckle at herself. “I may seem like an old married woman to
you
, my dear, but I am not
dead
. I am only a year older than your betrothed, you know.”

Elizabeth considered the implications of her aunt’s remarks. “Oh. I was rather hoping you would tell me whether I am normal or I am…fallen.”

Mrs. Gardener started laughing. She shook her head, trying very hard to stop. “Oh, Lizzy. I am sorry…to be laughing. I have never known you so grave and serious.” Mrs. Gardiner removed a handkerchief from her pocket and dried the mirthful tears at the corners of her eyes. Elizabeth was not amused and looked it. “It is just, oh, you remind me so much of me! I have no intention of telling you tales of your uncle and myself, so do not ask, but I
do
see so much of myself in you. Such innocence and such desire!”

“Is
that
what I feel?”

“Yes, and it is healthy. It is what you
should
feel. Once you are married, as
soon
as you are married, you may act upon the desires you feel now.”

“What if Mr. Darcy thinks me too forward? I do not fear him, truly, but I do dread his disapprobation. What if he thinks me indecent?”

“Oh, I highly doubt he will think
that
, my love. More likely he will be flattered, perhaps dumbfounded, but I promise you, he will be thoroughly pleased if you are bold.”

“What if he thinks me unchaste?”

“I suspect there will be ample evidence to the contrary.”

“Will it hurt so much as that? I have been hoping what I have been led to expect is a complete exaggeration.”

“It is impossible to say if, or how much, the first time will hurt. Each of us is different, and so is every man, I am told. You may bleed a bit, but you are used to that. It will be not as much as what happens every month. And after the first experience or two, any discomfort will cease and you will find it all very pleasant.”

“Pleasant? Not arduous?”

“Pleasant. Not arduous.”

“What if he wants to undress me?”

“Let him.”

“And to
see
me…undressed. Naked.” Elizabeth reddened.

“Let him.”

“What if he wants to sleep in the same bed?”

“Let him.”

“What about if he wants to…during the day, instead of at night?”

Mrs. Gardiner waved an impatient hand. “I doubt
instead
is the word you want, more like in addition to, but let him!”

Elizabeth remembered the disquieting conversation she and Darcy had after he kissed her the first time, and he blurted he wanted to teach her to ride horseback. “Aunt, I think, if I inferred correctly, and the way he blushed, I am sure I did, that Mr. Darcy might want to…to have relations with me…
outside
. In the woods or…somewhere.”

“You will have a large estate, Lizzy, and if you feel the place he chooses is sufficiently private, by all means,
let him
!”

Chapter 8

Walking to Oakham Mount

“Sit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne’er be younger.”
William Shakespeare
The Taming of the Shrew

Elizabeth left Longbourn seized by energy, determined to walk to Oakham Mount with or without Fitzwilliam Darcy. It was two full days after conferring with Aunt Gardiner— full in every sense— and there had since been no opportunity to have the private, lengthy conversation with Darcy that Elizabeth had settled upon as the next necessary step of their relationship.

The day after the important conference saw the arrival of Georgiana Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam at Netherfield, and Darcy had spent the day with them. Elizabeth and Jane had been invited thither to dinner, with an evening musical interlude featuring Georgiana on the harp and pianoforte, and Bingley’s sisters singing and playing duets. Those assembled politely requested a performance by Elizabeth, but she had demurred, which Darcy did not like but understood. The performance was a gift to the betrothed couples and Elizabeth felt it rude to display herself. She was grateful her sister Mary was not in attendance, for
she
would have had no such scruple.

Elizabeth had also spent the two days shopping for wedding clothes with her aunt after receiving very particular—if not particularly helpful—instructions from Mrs. Bennet. Those went largely ignored. Aunt Gardiner had her own ideas about what would suit the occasion for Elizabeth and later to please Mr. Darcy.

Just the evening before Elizabeth’s expedition to Oakham Mount, the Bennets hosted Darcy, Georgiana, and Colonel Fitzwilliam to a family dinner as the Bingleys were engaged elsewhere. It was the first opportunity for Georgiana to meet the younger Bennet sisters, and her shyness prevailed. Elizabeth had prepared her sisters and mother for this likelihood, and even the often oblivious Kitty was slightly subdued. Mrs. Bennet showed Georgiana every civility without her usual heavy-handedness, for which Elizabeth was grateful.

Kitty was privately disappointed that the colonel did not wear his regimentals, and thus was less inclined to put herself in his way. Elizabeth observed that the colonel paid Jane rather too much attention but felt reasonably certain no one else noticed as he was known for his pleasant manners in company. Elizabeth was seated between her father and Darcy; the men chatted like old friends, each having learnt the style of comment likely to raise a smile from the other. Their sources of amusement were discovered to be more alike than not, and they included Elizabeth in their sport whenever they could.

After dinner, Mary played for Georgiana followed by the reverse. Mary’s appreciation of the abilities of Miss Darcy was slow in developing, but Mary did, by the end of Georgiana’s third piece, begin to understand humility.

During the playing, Darcy leaned to Elizabeth’s ear and whispered that his cousin had brought him a most pleasing letter of congratulations from Darcy’s aunt and uncle, the Earl and Countess of Matlock. They were in such despair of their nephew ever marrying that they cared nothing for his intended’s wealth, connections, looks, or education; the list of attributes they did
not
care about went on at some length. The earl and his wife were concerned only that she still be of childbearing years and healthy. Colonel Fitzwilliam had assured them that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was merely one and twenty and of uncommonly robust health; therefore, that branch of the family was most favourably disposed towards her. Elizabeth was highly diverted.
Clearly, Lady Catherine’s sway within the family is not nearly so wide and commanding as the lady thinks. Her practical sphere of influence seems entirely limited to the parsonage at Hunsford and her poor daughter!

***

When Darcy did not appear for her early walk, Elizabeth returned home out of spirits and convinced Jane to send an immediate note to Bingley, ostensibly about the coming evening’s entertainment at Netherfield. Jane just
happened
to mention that Elizabeth was planning to visit Oakham Mount on foot and she would set out after the Bennet family’s breakfast.

As often happened when excessive tension was bound within her, Elizabeth began to trot and eventually to run up and down the rolling lanes until the paths became too narrow and uneven, beginning the steady rise to the mount. She had slowed to a brisk walk when she heard the cantor of a horse approaching and turned to look behind her. She could not help smiling when she saw it was, at last, Darcy.

“You have been running, Miss Bennet.” Darcy slid from his horse and took her ungloved hand, kissing it. He found her skin delightfully warm. “I own, I have been watching you.”

“Please do not reveal it to anyone, Mr. Darcy, as it leads to a scolding at home. Mama thinks a lady running is quite deplorable, unless, of course, one wants to run after officers.
That
is the sort of running of which she heartily approves.”

He did not let go of her hand and joined in her laughter. “It pleases me that you run for exercise and not for any
other
reason.”

“You may suppose my motive for running is as you say, sir, but I have always thought I run because I have energy that cannot be expended in any more productive way, which may be seen as a fault. The activity does seem to dispel my ill humours. Now I may continue my walk in a more contemplative and circumspect manner.”

“I am pleased that we begin to have these little secrets between us. I like knowing things, which—although I find them charming—you would not wish me to share with the world.” Darcy’s dimples punctuated his approbation.