The meal began as a sombre affair.
Everyone sat in the same arrangement as the previous day, but there was no conversation, no liveliness, no smiles or laughter.
Miss de Bough watched Elizabeth from the head of the table. At length, she said, “You seem very out of spirits, Miss Bennet.
“Not at all,” she answered, looking with disinterest at her food.
“You have scarce spoken a word, and you have eaten nothing, my dear. Are you ill? If you are, please say so at once, before Mr. Jones removes to the parsonage.”
Elizabeth swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I am quite well, thank you.”
“Is the meal not to your liking? What would you rather have?” asked Miss de Bourgh.
She picked up her spoon and began to eat her soup. “This is very good. Please, do not trouble yourself or your cook.”
Thomas glanced from one lady to the other. “Elizabeth is likely worried for her cousin, Miss de Bourgh. While Mr. Collins is not as well as I would like, I have confidence that he will fully recover within a month.”
Another silence ensued.
“Your father’s estate is entailed upon Mr. Collins,” said Miss de Bourgh. “Is it not so, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth glanced at Charlotte and forced herself to smile. “It is, and I could not imagine a better keeper of my childhood home than my friend and her husband, though I hope they will not take possession of Longbourn for a great many years. The death of my father predicates their ownership, and he and I are very close.”
“I, too, pray for a long life for your father,” Charlotte replied. “I am very fond of him, you know, having spent so much time with your family.”
A low, masculine voice spoke from Elizabeth’s right. “Mr. Bennet is a great wit. I enjoy sparring verbally with him, though he usually wins the match.”
Thomas tilted his head quickly to look at Darcy. “When have you joked with Elizabeth’s father? He and I are great friends, as we have been acquaintances all my life, but I had no idea you knew him so well.”
Darcy smiled. “I saw Bennet many times when I was in Hertfordshire. I have been a guest in his home on several occasions, and we spent many hours together in London a few months ago. Though I was in Hertfordshire only a short time for my friend Bingley’s wedding to Miss Bennet’s sister recently, I made certain to converse with him again, for I consider him to be a good friend of mine.”
She bit her lower lip. He called my father ‘Bennet.’ He views him as a friend and an equal.
Thomas narrowed his eyes. “And are you fond of Mrs. Bennet as well? I adore her, and she quite dotes on me. I practically grew up at Longbourn, and I make it a point to visit her every time I am in Hertfordshire.”
Elizabeth looked from one gentleman to the other. Whatever are they about?
Darcy touched his napkin to either side of his mouth before he replied. “Mrs. Bennet and I may have had a difficult beginning, but we understand one another much better now. I believe I have improved her opinion of me, and I very much admire her abilities as a mother and a hostess. When last I saw her at Longbourn, she accepted my compliments very prettily.”
Elizabeth raised a brow as she glanced between them. He must have visited Longbourn while I was gone, for she did not receive him very well in September. When?
She felt truly buoyant for the first time all day.
Perhaps all is not lost.
~~oo~~
Elizabeth came down the stairs to see Thomas standing in the great hall, allowing the footmen to again swath him in his great coat, scarves, woolen cap, and heavy gloves.
The young physician looked behind him at the sound of her footsteps, and a heart-stopping smile lit his handsome face. He turned to face her, removing his cap and handing it to a servant, then running his hands through his curls.
“I wondered if you would come to bid me adieu. Sometimes, I think you forget what you mean to me.”
Thomas had grown into a tall, handsome, well-framed gentleman. As the candlelight caught the blond strands of his hair, every angle of his face was shown to perfection.
He truly is the most beautiful man I have ever seen.
She noticed the way his dark lashes and brows framed his light blue eyes and sighed. “Of course, I could not let you go without telling you goodbye. Silly man.”
He took a step closer to her and waved at the footmen to move back. “Elizabeth, you must not make any momentous decisions until I see you again.”
She looked up at him, astounded. “What nonsense you talk! You shall see me again tomorrow. What could happen between now and then?”
“I may not be able to come back to Rosings that soon. Any number of things could take place.”
He lowered his voice nearly to a whisper. “You love me. I know you do. We were meant for each other. ’Tis the favourite wish of my mother as well as yours.”
He put his gloved hands on either side of her face as she laughed quietly.
“I cannot even give you a proper goodbye hug,” he complained, dropping his arms to his sides, fists clenched. “What a foolish figure I must cut, and this shall be the last memory of me you carry until I return.”
She grinned indulgently. “I have years of memories of you, and the ridiculous ones are the best. One of my favourites involves the day you tried to teach me to fish and fell in the lake yourself. You were so angry!”
“You laughed at me!”
She chuckled. “Had you laughed at yourself, we would have been merry together.”
“I cannot bear to be a simpleton in your eyes.” His eyes flashed. “You must never again laugh at me.”
“I dearly love a laugh, Thomas.” She put her hand on his arm to calm him. “I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can.”
“I can jest with you concerning the stupidity and frailties of others, but I cannot be happy when I am made to feel foolish.” He frowned; his voice was resentful. “It has always been thus. You have never apprehended how I despise being made a joke in your eyes.”
“I must beg your pardon, then.” She looked away from the irate expression in his eyes, her joy gone. “I shall try to bear that in mind in the future so as not to give offense.”
“Good.” His lips formed a smile. “I knew you would agree to do as I ask.”
He bent to kiss her cheek, and she felt his perfect lips hard against her face.
“You are the ideal wife for me – beautiful, loving, intelligent, malleable.” His face was the sun. “I shall see you tomorrow, I hope. Will you give me your promise?”
Her smile did not reach her eyes as she took a small step back. “I promise I shall be as I am now when next I see you.”
“Excellent!” Thomas replied, his pique forgotten as he motioned impatiently to the footmen to give him his cap and open the door. “Think only of me until then. Remember.”
The hall was cold and empty after he left.
All these years we have been the very best of friends, yet he does not understand me in the least. He cannot love me as I am.
She took a deep breath. Perhaps it is my fault. After all, any other woman would be beyond happy to be his wife. He is handsome, strong, successful, intelligent, and loving. The failing surely is mine.
I must be unlovable.
She walked slowly to join the others in the drawing room.
~~oo~~
Elizabeth sat by Charlotte and watched the fire.
“Miss Bennet,” said Miss de Bourgh. “If you truly are feeling well as you said before, I have a request to make of you.”
“I am rarely ill,” answered Elizabeth, turning to look at her hostess. “Please, set me a task, for I fear I must have an occupation. I have never enjoyed being idle.”
The lady smiled her approval. “My mother has expressed a wish for Rosings to be decorated for the season, and I should like to indulge her. She hopes to be carried downstairs for Christmas dinner, and I know festive seasonal trimmings would greatly cheer her. Mr. Jones said a sanguine state of mind is crucial to her recovery.”
Thomas. Even when he is gone he tells me what I must do.
“Certainly, but I shall need help gathering the greenery and hanging it. A stable boy or footman will do nicely.”
Miss de Bourgh smiled. “I have already thought of that, my dear. Mrs. Collins, Miss Lucas, Mrs. Jenkinson, and I are much engaged in reading to my mother, so we cannot be of use to you. I understand Mr. Jones has departed for the parsonage and may not return for some time; therefore, he is unable to help you. There is only one acceptable solution to the problem. As her ladyship has no desire to see you or Darcy, he has agreed to assist you. Have you not, Cousin?”
Elizabeth spoke before the gentleman could. “I am sure Mr. Darcy has much better ways to employ his time. A stable boy will do.”
He cleared his throat. “I have nothing else of import to occupy my time, and I would greatly enjoy being of assistance to you, Miss Bennet. It appears that neither of us takes pleasure in being useless.”
“Then it is settled,” said Miss de Bourgh. “Darcy knows where the holly, cedar, and other decorative plants grow, Miss Bennet. He will see to everything the two of you need. You may begin in the morning, as it is too late this evening.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Very well.” She picked up a book.
“Miss Bennet?”
She raised a brow and turned to her hostess once more.
Miss de Bourgh smiled. “Would you play for us? I think all of us would welcome such a lovely diversion, for we are a very dull party. You must cheer us and distract us from unhappy circumstances we cannot change.”
Why did I ever think she was weak? I am full of error.
“Of course.” She stood up and walked to the piano.
Elizabeth needed no music, for the piece she wanted to perform, she knew by heart. She sat and began to play, pouring out her pain, expressing through her music everything she could not put into words.
When she finished, no one spoke for a few moments. She started to stand and had every intention of excusing herself to the company, but a voice spoke softly behind her.
“That was lovely, but so sad. I cannot place the piece. Who is the composer?”
She did not look at him. “Mr. Beethoven. ’Twas a selection from his ‘Quasi una fantasia.’”
“I thought I recognized the master, but I have never before heard it.”
“It has not been published long. That was the Adagio Sostenuto movement. ’Tis not technically difficult. The second movement, the Allegretto, is not so mournful, and the third, the Presto Agitato is quite fast and challenging.”
Mr. Darcy moved so that he could see her face. She kept her eyes on the ivories.
“Why did you choose a piece in a minor key?” he asked. “If questioned, I would have speculated that your musical preferences would be light and cheerful. Are you unhappy that your friend is gone?”
Elizabeth looked up at him, surprised at his question but determined to answer him truthfully. “Thomas? I enjoy his company, but I am not melancholy because of his absence. In fact, more and more I find he is not absolutely necessary to my happiness.”
She searched his expression for a reaction. “Now I have shocked you.”
“I admit I am surprised,” he answered, smiling, “but not shocked. I think you take delight in expressing opinions which are not your own.”
“I assure you, I meant exactly what I said.”
He continued. “But you do not always say everything you think. Was your original statement meant to astonish me? Should I be appalled? Tell me what I should think, and I shall endeavour to do it in order to gratify you, for you are a woman worthy of being pleased.”
Elizabeth considered his words. A woman worthy of being pleased.
She found she quite cherished his opinion. Furthermore, she was surprised to note that she wanted to please him in return. It reminded her of Aesop’s fable of the wind and the sun, learned at her father’s knee.
What the wind could not achieve by force, the sun accomplished using the persuasion of its gentle warmth.
“Mr. Darcy,” she replied, “I am content with you just as you are, and I would never presume to tell you what to do or think.”
She stood, and he offered his arm. Together they crossed the room to join the others.
As Elizabeth settled herself again by Charlotte, and as she watched Mr. Darcy return to his chair, she was quite looking forward to the next morning.
Lord, I do not wish Mr. Collins to be seriously ill – only enough to keep Thomas at the parsonage tomorrow. Amen.