Chapter 10
Three weeks had passed since Colonel Fitzwilliam left her home in the wake of his astonishing proposal, and Lady Cassandra could scarcely believe it actually happened.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, the man she had known for as along as she had known Darcy, the man always charming, always in a pleasant disposition, always the ladies' favorite — to have such deep feelings toward her and actually propose to her?
Not for a moment did she doubt his words; not for a moment did she presume he only pretended to possess tender feelings for her to induce her into matrimony. She knew him to be a deeply honorable man, and she trusted him as much as she trusted Darcy, though perhaps not in a similar way. But she was certain he would never try to deceive her. He would never declare a love he did not possess. But to love her? After all those years? After a lifetime of friendship? How could that be?
The more she thought about it, the more her turmoil increased and the more she fought not to accept the evidence she could not deny: her heart was not stone even if she wished it to be. Or at least it had not hardened in front of the youngest Fitzwilliam son.
Yes, it was a lifetime of friendship, she thought while a soft smile and a tear in her eyes brought back her old memories, but not the kind of friendship she and Darcy had shared.
She had not met David Fitzwilliam as much or as often as she had met Darcy, nor had she spent more than a couple of months of each year on the same estate. She surely did not speak to David as much as she spoke to Darcy and surely never shared secrets with him. However, when they met, when they were in each other’s company…he had always been the one who knew how to treat her in order to make her stubbornness as a spoiled girl disappear instantly, even when she was very young. Not her governess, not her parents — whom she loved deeply — nor the Darcys whom she cared for as much as for own parents — not even her best friend, the young Fitzwilliam Darcy, succeeded in attempts to temper her, to control her, to scold her when necessary without any opposition on her part in the manner David Fitzwilliam did each and every time. He was the only one she listened to without arguing when she was a child; he seemed to always know what she could be allowed to do without putting herself in danger but without feeling restricted. And she had always accepted David's advice.
Lady Cassandra smiled again at the remembrance of her childhood. “Oh dear, my poor, beloved mama — what she had to go through with me…” She shook her head in a tender scolding against her past behavior and went to the wall where the miniatures of her parents smiled at her; she caressed the pictures with trembling fingers while she wiped her tears. Even now, after all those years she could still not think of her parents without being overwhelmed by emotions.
She had been a very difficult child — she knew that — and all because her parents and their friends, the Darcys, were too kind and indulgent with her. Normally, fathers did not spend much time being involved in their small children’s education, especially the girls; her father and the late Mr. Darcy were no exceptions. When they were preoccupied with somebody’s education, the center of their interest seemed to be the young Fitzwilliam. Now, after all those years, she understood that, most likely, both fathers shared the hope that she and Darcy would someday marry and he would take the responsibility of both estates, but back then she often felt neglected and a little envious of her dear friend for all the attention he got.
However, she could not complain about lack of attention from either part, not by far. Her father, a very strong and decided gentleman, from an old family of Earls, had two big weaknesses — his wife and his daughter. And she, Cassandra, learned that very quickly and took every advantage a child could gain from the situation. She also learned very quickly that the love her mother held for her was also something very special — and one to which she responded with equal love and devotion — but she could not help using the little scheme of crying and playing the sufferer any time she wanted something she was not allowed. And if her mother tried to remain firm, there was Lady Anne, another precious ally for little Cassandra.
They sometimes did not allow her to do certain things which could prove dangerous for a little girl but never forced her to do anything she did not wish to do — not even when she grew up into a young lady. And she had grown free and unrestrained of anything but a good, healthy education based on fair principles, applied with generosity she inherited from both her parents. Some people could have called her a wild girl — and Lady Catherine de Bourgh did so, many times.
Lady Cassandra remembered the first incident when David Fitzwilliam had taken her side during a ‘major conflict’ with the adults in her family. When she was seven, her parents offered her a most beautiful horse instead of her old pony but forbade her to ride with her much older friends — young Darcy, the Fitzwilliam siblings and their relatives. Darcy promised to take good care of her if she was allowed to come with them but, as he was less then ten years old, his promise was not enough for her parents or for his. So she was kept at home while the boys left to ride. She had cried, feeling disappointed and being certain everybody was unfair to her, and she refused a meal that day. She knew her mother was deeply concerned for her, yet she felt she was right and all the others around her were wrong, so she persisted in her stubbornness.
Then, before retiring to bed, she was called down to where her family, the Darcys, and David Fitzwilliam were gathered. Her father tried to explain to her that she was not allowed to do what the young boys did; first, because she was a young lady and it was not proper and, secondly, that she could put herself in danger. Even though she heard what was said, she did not really listen nor heed the warning — how could it not be proper to ride, or how could she be in danger when she was such a skillful rider? She was riding her pony since she was two years old; everybody knew that! At the end of his speech, Lord Russell presented her a compromise: she could ride with the boys only if she remained close to David Fitzwilliam, who was seven years older than she and kindly offered to supervise her. Of course, she immediately argued that she did not need supervision, and the conflict was about to start again, but David, with his happy disposition and his always open smile, assured her the supervision was needed; because, even though they may trust her riding abilities, they did not trust the horse well enough and wanted to be certain the animal would behave adequately. That seemed a very reasonable explanation, and she accepted happily. So the next day she joined the boys and concluded that David Fitzwilliam was a very nice boy, unlike the other boys around who were absolutely insufferable.
Three years later, during an afternoon ride just before dinner, Cassandra departed from the group through a little grove, attempting to hide from Darcy and the Fitzwilliam siblings. Her game turned serious when she rode further then she intended before she noticed that she was forced to find her way back home. She did not panic as she knew Pemberley all too well; but somehow, in the late fall afternoon, she got lost on an alternative path and, though she could see the house far on the hill, seemed to only move in a circle. Her anxiety grew with every passing moment until, to her shock, she saw a little child, barely walking, crying under a tree. She unsaddled and approached him, but the infant could not say his name or where he was from; he was not more than three years old, she presumed.
Puzzled and worried, not knowing what to do but deciding she could not leave the child there, she grabbed his little hand and took the reins of the horse in her other hand then started walking, hoping she would meet somebody.
No longer on horseback, she could not see much in front of her and did not know exactly where she was going, but she kept walking, speaking softly to the child to keep him from crying. The baby boy was tired, she was tired, and darkness started to wrap their surroundings. Finally, she reached an open field and could see the lights of Pemberley so far away that she could not hold back her own tears; it was not possible for them to get there before nightfall, not on foot.
Desperately, but angry with her weakness, she searched her mind for a way to escape from the difficult situation, and all she could think of was to try to lift the child on the horse so they could ride together — but the task proved to be more difficult than she had thought as the child was scared of the horse, and the animal seemed agitated by the child’s cries. After many long, difficult minutes, she gave up the attempt and, struggling to remain brave, took the boy’s little hand once more and started walking with small, trembling steps.
After some time she heard voices crying her name, and a few minutes later she fell into her father’s warm arms. For the first time in her life she had seen tears on her father’s cheeks and felt she could not breathe in his strong, tight embrace. She was safe again.
Yet, an instant later she forgot her comfort and begged her father to take care of the lost baby, something the others in the party had already done — the child was taken to Pemberley together with her, bathed, feed and put in bed while a few servants were sent to investigate the neighborhood about his family. Later that night — as she was told the next day — the baby’s desperate parents appeared — a young family from Lambton who had searched for their boy for hours and hours, nobody imagining he could be on the grounds of Pemberley, so far from his home.
The event seemed to have a happy ending, but the next day — once his worry and concern were put aside — Lord Russell turned intensely angry with his daughter. He called her such things as “irresponsible” and “thoughtless” and “a silly child” who put more importance on her childish games than her own safety without any consideration for her parents’ feelings. He forbade her to ride or to even leave the house without her governess or her parents. When she tried to protest, his anger grew, promising he would strive to defeat her stubbornness once and for all. The late Mr. Darcy seemed in complete agreement with him; Lady Lavinia and Lady Anne — who was holding her baby, Georgiana, in her arms — remained silently in their places. She was alone with no ally and still did not understand what she had done wrong in taking care of the baby. When she dared to ask, her father’s voice fell like thunder.
“There was nothing wrong with that, quite the contrary, you did a remarkable good thing in taking care of the baby and bringing him with you. What was wrong, impudent young lady, was that you left your friends and almost got lost because you are never careful and never pay attention to your surroundings so you can see what direction you are walking…” he shouted, his voice so angry that both Lady Lavinia and Lady Anne looked at him in obvious shock.
“But,” Cassandra insisted, “If I did not get lost I would have never found the baby and would not have been able to take care of him…and then what would have happened to him? He was almost as little as Georgiana…” she replied, equally confused and hurt by her father’s harsh words.
Lord Russell did not give her an answer; instead, he looked disconcerted for a moment, cast a quick glance to his wife, and concluded that the discussion was over and Cassandra needed to be taught discipline. So she was sent to her room to prepare her lessons and bear the penance for as long as necessary. She obeyed, but not without throwing a long, daring and defying look at her father and exited the room with her head up. She was certain she was greatly mistreated once more… Behind the closed door she could hear the adults’ animated voices.
In her room Cassandra cried with anger, disappointment and frustration—adults were so unfair! She could not wait to grow up so nobody would tell her what to do!
Later that day, after her lessons, she was pleased to see Darcy and David Fitzwilliam visiting her; she had not seen either of them since they rode together the previous day. Darcy was a mix of feelings and his rushed yet determined speech showed it. Though a young boy of thirteen, he had the maturity of his father when he reminded her about the danger to which she exposed herself; then he told her, with the concern of an elder brother, how worried he had been for her and how he would take better care of her in the future. In the end, he offered to share her penance with her, to stay inside the house with her for the next few days, to read together, to study together, to turn the page for her while she practiced the piano or to play together with his baby sister, Georgiana.
David did not speak much; he only told her she had been the bravest young lady he had ever seen and that she most likely had saved the baby boy’s life. He told her exactly what she wished to hear, to know that somebody truly appreciated her efforts. Her opinion about David Fitzwilliam rose even higher; undoubtedly, he was the nicest and the wisest young man in the whole of England. And she remained of that opinion until she turned seventeen and things changed for her.
From the age of eleven, she rarely saw David Fitzwilliam who, like Darcy, had been sent away to school. She saw him once when Lady Anne passed away and twice in the next years. He joined the army and she heard little about him. Darcy mentioned him from time to time in the letters he sent Cassandra regularly, but she could not say she was especially curious to find out more about any of the Fitzwilliam family. In fact, she was quite upset with them, as they often argued with Mr. Darcy and with her own parents about little Georgiana.
Since Lady Anne fell ill and then shockingly passed away, breaking the hearts of everybody who had known her, Georgiana remained in the care of her father who hired her the best two governesses he could find. However, Mr. Darcy was only a man and not one to be very warm with a little girl, so Lady Lavinia, together with Cassandra, spent as much time as possible trying to compensate for the absence of the little girl’s beloved mother. And though Lady Lavinia had the deepest and sincerest affection for the tot and treated her as her own child, it was in fact Cassandra who acted even more protective and caring toward Georgiana. It was Cassandra whom Darcy trusted to protect his little sister, and it was Cassandra for whom the little girl cried when she was ill or unhappy.
Georgiana, at the age of two — spending half of the time at Lord Russell’s estate and half at Pemberley, seeing both her father and Lord Russell as intimidating, strong and very tall men who rarely smiled at her and Lady Lavinia as a tall, beautiful lady who gave orders to the other tall ladies who took care of her — knew and trusted only one constant presence around her: Cassandra, who always played with her and smiled at her and hugged her — and was not half as tall as the other ladies in the house.
When Lord Matlock and his wife came to Pemberley and offered — with much insistence and determination — to take Georgiana with them, claiming they could take better care of her than a single man as Mr. Darcy, it was Cassandra who opposed it so vehemently that she was sent away to her room and not allowed to come downstairs again. She did not go to her room, but to Georgiana’s nursery and did not let the girl out of her sight but held her arms around Georgiana the entire day until they both fell asleep, tightly embraced. Of course, Mr. Darcy did not intend to give away his daughter — not for a second — nor did the Matlocks insist on it. But Cassandra became very angry and remained angry with David’s parents for years.
She only saw David Fitzwilliam again the year she turned seventeen, when her mother had prepared a sumptuous ball for her coming out. He was then in the military. Lady Lavinia was much more excited about the event than Cassandra herself and certainly more pleased with it. Cassandra did not wish to have a ball; she did not truly wish to be “out” either. She felt very well and content spending time with her family and the Darcys, riding along the fields, playing with Georgiana… Who needed being "out"? Not her, that was certain! She did not even like London very much — too crowded and too many boring people with whom she had to be perfectly proper and perfectly polite — too tiresome, indeed.
However, her mother wanted the ball, so she did everything she could to appear pleased with it. In truth, however, she felt bothered and nervous about the ball, too. She did not know many people among the guests and did not feel comfortable being in the middle of all those strangers.
When David Fitzwilliam unexpectedly approached her, she had been startled with surprise and relief. He looked utterly different in his uniform — in fact he, all of him, looked entirely different in a most pleasant way — different than she had last seen him, different from the other gentlemen in the room.
He stayed with her and Darcy for quite some time, asked her about everything which happened during the past years, asked about her horse, about her riding habits, and about the young boy she had saved some years ago; he told her, more than once, that he would certainly not have recognized her if they had met by chance, and that she had grown into a very beautiful young lady.
She remembered how she had blushed at his every word and was shocked by her own silly reaction. She knew she behaved childishly but could not control herself and was afraid she had made a fool of herself. As for David, he had acted as always: friendly, open, and kindly. He was not flirting with her, not by far; even she — with her very little experience in the matter — could tell that. He simply stated his opinion about her, about how she looked and about the entire event.
And then, with his friendly voice and open smile, he had asked her for the favor of the first set. For the first time in her life Cassandra had felt her stomach turn into an icy hole and her heart race wildly. Furious with herself and fighting to understand what was happening to her, she had managed to formulate a reasonable acceptance.
The dance — and the whole evening — had been lovely; and David, together with Darcy, offered her his full attention, being discreetly around her, protecting her when some young gentleman bothered her too much with his attentions, and entering gently in any conversation which seemed not to her liking. She had felt better then ever and, as the hours had passed, had begun to realize that what she was feeling in David’s presence was different than anything she had experienced before. Her gaze followed him around the room; and, when their eyes met, he smiled admiringly at her. From time to time he had sneaked near her and whispered something about the other guests, making her laugh and blush. He had asked her for yet another set; and, during the supper, he talked to everybody around him but had turned to look at her more than once and even winked at her in a barely noticeable gesture. Yes, at her first coming out ball, Lady Cassandra’s innocent heart had been touched for the first time.
The next morning, after she had hardly slept from excitement, she allowed herself countless speculations. She admitted and accepted that her old childhood friend had turned into a very handsome and charming gentleman, especially when formally dressed in regimentals, and that she enjoyed his company exceedingly. She also had been certain he was not indifferent to her either. And, as never before, she remembered that, as a second son of an Earl, he should be very careful with the choice of a wife. Well, she told herself, what better choice than herself, the heiress of a great fortune and from a noble, titled family? That should have been indeed a marriage to the advantage of both.
However, her dreams shattered painfully the next day when she saw David at the theater in the very intimate company of a young widow, the Countess of _____. He was staying in her box, near Cassandra's family’s box, and behaved as he had at the ball: he came to greet them, complimented her on her appearance and for the ball, then whispered to her that everybody in town was talking about her and all the eligible bachelors were fighting to gain her attention. He had laughed while he told her that he had mentioned to everybody that he was her friend and, if needed, her protector, so those eligible bachelors had better be very careful of how they would behave around her. And he had added, in a whispered voice, that he was as proud of her as he would be of his own sister. Then he returned to the Countess with whom he had indeed been flirting, and there was no doubt about the nature of their relationship.
That night and the nights which followed, Cassandra had wet her pillow with the bitter tears of her first romantic hopes. For a few months, she avoided seeing David Fitzwilliam as much as she could; then, finally, her mind and senses defeated her disappointed heart, and she understood that her sudden and strange change of feeling could not force his to change as well. He had remained the same as he ever was: as her old, dependable, trusted friend who treated her as his younger sister. And most likely he would never consider any marriage arrangements with her, no more than she would want a marriage with Darcy. It was a fact she learned to accept and she finally did, forcing herself not to allow it to affect their friendship.
Later that year when her mother, too, passed away, David Fitzwilliam had come to the funeral, and his warm, gentle embrace gave her nothing but comfort and the sense of safety to palliate the unbearable sadness she felt. He was there to take care of her, to protect her if needed, to offer her support and friendship.
His help was much needed not long after that when Lady Cassandra’s soul — and the wonderful world of her childhood — disappeared forever, together with the death of Lord Russell. From that moment, she remained alone in the world. She had cried for days, not allowing anybody around her except Darcy — and David Fitzwilliam, who spent more than two weeks at Pemberley, precisely to be close to her; he told her as much. Darcy and David — her closest friends in the world.
And now, after all those years, David Fitzwilliam came to profess his love for her and to ask her to marry him! Now, when she had put all her past feelings for him aside even before they managed to blossom; now, after all that happened in the last four years; now, when she could not possibly marry him. Her world broke into thousands of small pieces again, and so did her heart!
Thank heavens she had left London — and him — behind. She was in Hertfordshire now, looking from the window of her room as Darcy was riding along the hill, his horse moving at a quick pace. She smiled; she knew where he must have gone. “If at least he could be happy, if he could only know the joy of love from now on, as he had already experienced its grief. May God grant him relief from suffering no more… Instead, let the suffering come to me. Darcy and Georgiana deserve to be happy. And so does David.”
~/~/~/~ No — it was not a dream! He moved slowly toward Elizabeth as she moved toward him, her eyes captured by his, her steps tentative, her face pale and her dry lips, slightly opened. She heard his soft, tender voice — the voice to which she had become accustomed while she was at Pemberley — but her mind could barely understand the meaning of his words. He said something about walking out to meet her? Should she answer? And what was she to answer? He came closer and closer; she was already aware of his scent and the warmth of his nearness; and he kept moving forward — so she stopped.
“Mr. Darcy…” did she truly say the words? She was not sure, as she did not hear them.
“Miss Bennet…”
The lump in her throat trapped her words inside and her dry lips could hardly move. She unconsciously licked them and swallowed deeply; he moved a step closer.
“Sir, I did not know… I did not expect to see you here at this hour…”
“I am sorry; I did not mean to disturb you…”
“No, no…you did not disturb me…it was just…” “It was just that I was thinking of you and you just appeared. Could it be my thoughts which brought you here?” The unsaid words made her cheeks turn crimson; suddenly her knees seemed unable to support her.
“Miss Bennet, are you well?” Without waiting for her answer, he instantly placed his hands on her upper arms to support her. This gesture only made her feel dizzier, and the strong hold of his fingers burned her through the thin fabric of her dress.
“I am very well, thank you… I am just a little tired…” While she spoke, she did not dare to lift her head as he was so close that she could feel his breath. She suddenly remembered her manners and, with her head still down, almost leaning against his chest, tried to proceed politely. “Have you traveled safely to Hertfordshire, sir?”
“Yes, we traveled very well, thank you. We arrived yesterday, late in the afternoon.” His hands were still resting on her arms.
“Yes, I have heard that much… I mean, I have heard that Mr. Bingley is expected to return but…I did not suppose you would join him.” Her voice sounded more like a whisper; her emotions were too intense to continue on that subject. “Is Georgiana still at Pemberley, sir? I hope she is well.”
“No, she is here with me, and so are Lady Cassandra and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. Only Miss Bingley remains in town.”
“You brought Georgiana, too?” she cried, her surprise making her forget the proper tone.
“Yes, I did.” Their gazes were still locked and so close to each other that their faces were almost touching. “Miss Bennet, are you displeased with my presence here? With our presence here?” His voice was no stronger than hers and its slight tremble of uncertainty drove her to finally lift her eyes to him. His eyes — intensely dark — was gazing upon her, waiting for her answer. Displeased? Did he think she was displeased to see him?
“I am not at all displeased, sir…just very surprised… I did not believe it possible for you to return to the neighborhood after…” She stopped and blushed in embarrassment, angry with herself for perhaps saying too much. She was still not certain about his involvement in the unhappy situation which ended with Lydia’s wedding. “My sister Lydia married Mr. Wickham last week,” she finally burst out.
He hesitated only a moment, and his countenance changed a little. “I am aware of that… I met Wickham and Miss Lydia in town a few times while I visited Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.” His eyes were still fixed on her face and she noticed a trace of worry in them. Daringly, she continued.
“Yes, I heard as much, and I cannot tell you how surprised I have been. I imagined there was a very important matter which brought you to town so unexpectedly. When I left, you were at Pemberley, among your friends.”
“It is true, you left me at Pemberley,” he answered, the emotion in his voice impossible to hide. Suddenly realizing what he said, he withdrew his hands and took a few steps away from her.
Elizabeth remained still, only her eyes following his agitated pacing. After a few long minutes she could not continue to witness his turmoil. “I am sorry I left Pemberley so suddenly, sir. I know it was our duty as guests to at least leave you a note, but I thought it was better for us to depart as soon as possible. Please do not blame my aunt or my uncle; it was my decision and my insistence to do so; I am the only one to blame.”
He turned to her and met her eyes again. “You were not to blame for anything, Miss Bennet; please forgive my improper words. I only admired you for your decision even more…as soon as I understood it properly. And to answer your question — the reason for my being in London was precisely Miss Lydia’s elopement. As soon as I discovered what happened, I thought I might be of some help in recovering them and offered Mr. Gardiner my assistance.”
His confession took her utterly by surprise, and she was speechless for a moment. ‘So it was true; what she had suspected was true.’ Elizabeth needed to sit down before she fainted. Fortunately they were near an old fallen tree, so she immediately walked towards it and sat down; her fingers felt cold and trembled, and she entwined them in her lap before he noticed her distress. “Sir, please allow me to thank you for your undeserved kindness to my poor sister. My gratitude cannot be expressed in proper words. Without your help we would never…”
“Miss Bennet, my help meant nothing compared to your uncle’s struggle and efforts in discovering them. I did nothing more than offer him some support in a matter he would not have been able to solve satisfactorily by himself as he did not truly know Wickham as I did. No thanks are needed, believe me. Please let us not talk about that further, else we should talk first about my fault in not publicly exposing Wickham sooner. If Wickham was able to elope with such a young girl as Miss Lydia, I must share the blame.”
“This is not true, sir… How could you …” she cried, but he instantly sat down beside her and took both her hands in his.
“Miss Bennet…” His voice sounded deep and soft, while his eyes were piercing her very soul; her fingers were trapped in his and she did not dare to move them, hoping he did not sense her trembling. Her lips were dry again.
“Miss Bennet, if you want to express some kind of gratitude, you may very well do it by not talking about Wickham again, if ever. I dare say he has already tormented us both far too frequently.”
Flustered by the memory of everything that happened between them because of Wickham and her own folly, she only nodded in agreement. Elizabeth struggled to answer while forcing a smile. “Very well, sir. This will be a very easy way of expressing my gratitude, indeed.”
“Then everything is settled,” he replied, returning her smile.
No, she cried to herself, everything was not settled. There were countless things she wanted to ask him, but she did not dare. She must respect his wish; she owed him as much. But…was that all? All she would be allowed to know? And what was to happen next?
Guessing her thoughts, he continued without releasing her hands. “We have no fixed plans for how long we will remain in Hertfordshire. But if everything is well and our presence will be welcomed, I dare say we will stay for quite some time.”
That lump in her throat again! And that shiver… Could he feel she was shivering? “I hope you will enjoy your stay, sir. We…we are delighted to have you all here. And I cannot wait to see Georgiana and Lady Cassandra again.”
A trace of distress shadowed his countenance for a moment and she did not miss it. Suddenly she became uneasy again and inquired of him with much concern, “Sir, is anything wrong with Georgiana or Lady Cassandra?”
“You are very perceptive, Miss Bennet,” he replied. “No, there is nothing wrong, but they have been a little distressed lately… I am sure they will recover very soon during their stay at Netherfield. And I thank you for your concern.”
“Will I see them both later? During your call, I mean.”
“I am not sure; I hope so. If not, I am sure there will be plenty of opportunities for you to meet again very soon.” Again, his voice sounded unsettled and she knew something was not well. “Miss Bennet, I am sorry to say, but it is time for me to return. Bingley insisted we have a very early breakfast so we can prepare to visit you as soon as will be proper. He seemed very…eager to visit his neighbors again.”
She withdrew her hands from his, again embarrassed by her own thoughtlessness. How could she not notice how late it was?
“Oh, I have to leave too… You are right; it is very late.”
“Please, allow me to accompany you on your way back.”
“But…do you not have to return to Netherfield? Please do not bother yourself; I will be quite safe; this is one of my favorite paths, and I walk here daily.” She rose and was prepared to take her goodbye, her heart eased by the notion that she would see him again later, and she was anxious to share the news with Jane.
“I know it is your favorite path, Miss Bennet. I remembered when you talked about it last year during your stay at Netherfield; and I am sure you will be safe by yourself. Still, it would be my pleasure to have your company for a little longer.”
She found nothing to say — except admitting to herself how happy his words made her — and she accepted his offered arm while they started walking at a slow pace, his horse following them as he held onto the reins with his other hand.
“Miss Bennet, it was so rude of me to not inquire sooner! I hope your entire family is well?”
“Yes, they are very well, thank you. They will be very happy to see you and Mr. Bingley too, sir.”
“Thank you, the pleasure will be mine, I am sure.”
A long pause again, while they walked in silence; the sight of Longbourn appeared in front of them.
“Sir, thank you for you company, she said, while withdrawing her hand from his arm. I will look forward to seeing you later.”
“Then I shall ask Bingley to be ready as soon as possible,” he answered. For some moments, as neither seemed willing to depart first, they remained in front of each other, smiling tentatively yet wholeheartedly, their eyes silently speaking what their words did not dare.
She seemed to recover first, curtseyed and moved a few steps then, hardly thinking of what she was doing, she quickly turned back until she was only a few inches apart from him. “Mr. Darcy, I am very happy to see you in Hertfordshire again.”
The expression of delight on his face melted her heart and, with a sensation of deep happiness, she departed again, almost running from him. She did not know that, if she had stayed a moment longer, she would have been captured in the first real kiss of her life.
~/~/~/~ Miss Bingley had her first good moment of the last months: an invitation for tea with her old acquaintance, Lady Sophia, a most beautiful and extremely rich heiress of twenty-one. What a wonderful surprise the invitation had been, especially considering that Lady Sophia had rarely invited her in the past. And what a select company she would be in!
Of course she refused to accompany Charles to Netherfield, that could wait another week or so, but Lady Sophia’s invitation could not be refused under any circumstances.
It was unbearably warm and Miss Bingley blamed the carriage, the driver, the roads and the sun for her discomfort. Oh, what a pity they had to leave Pemberley! Pemberley was everything she ever wanted; it was ideal for both summer and winter. Pemberley was simply perfect.
And that Eliza Bennet — it was all her fault, Miss Bingley was certain of that. As soon as she left, Mr. Darcy left Pemberley too, and they were practically forced to follow him and return to London in the middle of summer. What a horrible distress! And now they all went to Hertfordshire, close to all the Bennets! It was unacceptable! Especially that the youngest Bennet girl eloped so scandalously with that officer! Yes, they married, but she knew too well what that meant! Oh, those reckless, thoughtless, tiresome Bennet girls! And that annoying, irritating, unsupportable Lady Cassandra, who was the worse of all!
Finally, the carriage stopped and she descended in front of Lady Sophia’s home. A most wonderful, imposing, wealthy house, speaking clearly about its mistress’s situation in life! Such a home as she, Caroline Bingley, deserved and wished for.
The servant opened the main door and she was shown in to the drawing room where Lady Sophia and other guests were gathered. At her entrance she had the impression that they all paused from their conversation and many pairs of eyes turned to her.
The hostess hurried to greet her and she was pleased to be so welcomed; a moment later her satisfaction grew even more and she congratulated herself for accepting the invitation when she was introduced to the most charming gentleman she had seen lately — Lord Markham.
*** It was late in the afternoon when Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy and Lady Cassandra left Longbourn after a long and most satisfactory visit which lasted almost two hours.
Mrs. Bennet was reluctant for them to leave at all, as she reminded Mr. Bingley many times that he still owed her a dinner from last autumn. Only Mr. Darcy’s mention that his sister was at Netherfield, resting after the journey and waiting for them to join her at dinner, stopped Mrs. Bennet’s insistence; though she was not very fond of Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Bennet did not want to upset any friend of Mr. Bingley!
However, Lady Cassandra, who — shockingly for Elizabeth — managed to get along very well with both Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, assured the mistress of the house that she, for one, was most eager to accept a dinner invitation at Longbourn and so were the gentlemen. From that moment, Lady Cassandra became the object of Mrs. Bennet’s unrestrained admiration and the recipient of her complete attentions, especially when she was certain the lady had no interest in keeping Mr. Bingley for herself.
Jane Bennet was more beautiful but more silent then ever during the visit. She and Mr. Bingley barely took their eyes from each other and every time the gentleman spoke to her directly or smiled at her she almost fainted. She managed to answer reasonably enough to Lady Cassandra’s polite and friendly questions but was grateful that her sister took care of her ladyship, allowing her to fully enjoy Mr. Bingley’s presence. Mr. Bingley, whom she was certain she would never see again, the one who still possessed her heart and her thoughts, Mr. Bingley who now said he had no intentions of leaving Netherfield again anytime soon.
Elizabeth felt equally happy and embarrassed to meet Mr. Darcy again. Only a few minutes since their arrival, after the Bennets were introduced to Lady Cassandra and an animate conversation started, Mr. Darcy moved closer to Elizabeth who was sitting on a couch near the window. He greeted her again and she immediately asked about Georgiana, whose absence greatly surprised her.
“Georgiana is fine…” he answered after a brief hesitation. “She is at Netherfield, resting after the long trip. She seemed a little tired.”
“I was hopping she would join you today; I confess I dearly missed her.”
“Thank you, Miss Bennet. I hope you will meet again in the next days. I am sure my sister has missed your company as well.”
‘Then why did she not come with you?’she wondered to herself. As it happened in the morning, she felt — again — that something was not well with her younger friend, so she could not help insisting.
“Mr. Darcy, please forgive my intrusion but I cannot help inquiring further if everything is well with Georgiana. You seemed…something seemed to worry you when you talked about her.”
He looked at her one long moment then he asked for permission to sit near her. She blushed and accepted with more eagerness then propriety would demand.
“Miss Bennet, your perceptiveness amazes me again. I am not certain if I should be happy or concerned that you know my disposition so well as to see behind my words.”
His voice was light — he sounded more as he was teasing her or even flirting with her — and his eyes were clearly smiling, so she breathed in relief; surely there was nothing to worry about with Georgiana, or else he would not be in such a mood. So she answered accordingly.
“I cannot answer to that, sir. It is for you only to decide if there are reasons of concern regarding me and my perceptiveness.” She arched her eyebrow at him, her lips narrowed in a smile. He smiled back.
“I shall try to be in your company as much as possible in order to clarify this aspect, Miss Bennet.” This time he was arching his eyebrow at her, mirroring her usual gesture, and she felt furious for being able to do nothing else but blush again at his words.
Before she could gather a few words together, he continued in a more serious tone. “As for Georgiana, I am truly grateful for your concern and I can assure you my sister is in excellent health and is safe, resting at Netherfield. However, there is indeed something I would like to talk to you about her, but this is not the time or the place. Could we talk more privately sometime soon? Tomorrow morning perhaps, if we happen to meet again on your morning walk?”
She was certain her cheeks colored so highly that they were burning. A wave of cold shivers spread down her spine and along her arms while she replied.
“I…that would be lovely, sir…I look forward too… I mean, if we should happen to meet again tomorrow. It is my habit to walk every morning, very early before breakfast.”
“An early morning walk, just before breakfast is very healthy, I am sure. Perhaps I should try it as well, instead of riding.”
“Riding might be very good, too… Fortunately, the paths between Longbourn and Netherfield are appropriate for both riding and walking.”
“And for private talks, I hope,” he added with a deep voice which made her shiver again.
“A private talk?” she wondered, barely controlling her emotions. “Could he mean “that” private talk? Or did he simply intend to talk about whatever bothers Georgiana? Oh, I am so silly, with all these questions. My behavior is truly ridiculous.”
“Miss Bennet…?” his voice startled her and she managed to gather her wits enough to reply.
“Yes indeed, sir, for private talks, too.” She knew her answer was an agreement, but she did know to what she had agreed.
Mrs. Bennet’s high voice drove their attention toward the others in the room. Darcy whispered a thank you for her time then moved toward Mr. Bennet and took a chair close to him; a few minutes later they were engaged in a serious and apparently pleasant conversation.
Not for a moment did Mr. Darcy become as exuberant as Mr. Bingley, but his behavior was pleasant and almost friendly, unlike his brooding aloofness of last autumn. However, as last year, he did spend most of his time looking at Elizabeth with his intense, dark stares which made her shiver and kept her cheeks crimson red, but this time she did not misunderstand the meaning of his gaze. Their eyes met quite often across the room; and, when they did not meet, she could still feel his looks upon her; when he spoke to her father, she knew his amiability was meant for her; when he answered her mother politely and congratulated her on her youngest daughter’s marriage, Elizabeth blushed in mortification but was grateful for his generosity in making her mother feel satisfied. “He is everything a man should be,” she concluded while watching with much attention his every gesture, his every move, his every handsome feature.
They would meet again the very next morning, and she wondered how she would be able to endure so many hours of waiting.
Mrs. Bennet gave her eldest daughters many reasons for mortification during the visit, but Lady Cassandra was the one who monopolized the conversation; she appeared relaxed and entertained, not at all bothered by her hostess’s lack of propriety. So when the call ended and the guests departed with the promise that they would return the next day, everybody agreed it was the most pleasant visit they had had in many years. Jane and Elizabeth, completely absorbed in their personal happiness, hardly listened to a word of the praises their mother bestowed upon the gentlemen and the beautiful, elegant Lady Cassandra.
~/~/~/~ “So Darcy, what do you think?” They were in the Netherfield library, enjoying a glass of wine before dinner.
“About what, Bingley?”
“About what? About Miss Bennet, of course! Is she not the most beautiful angel? Oh, if she could forgive me, if she could still think well of me and accept my attentions… What do you think, Darcy?”
“Bingley, I am sure you have no reason to worry; Miss Bennet seemed very pleased to see you, though not as exuberantly displayed as Mrs. Bennet,” Darcy answered half in joke, half sarcastically. “As for her feelings toward you, I am sure the coming days will soon clarify everything for you.”
“Whose feelings?” intervened Lady Cassandra, entering the room impetuously.
“Miss Jane Bennet’s feelings — Bingley asked my opinion and I told him the next few days will offer him all the certainties he needs, I am sure of that.”
Lady Cassandra looked at them as though they were some strange creatures and rolled her eyes in utter exasperation.
“Excuse me, but is Miss Jane Bennet the young lady we just met at Longbourn?”
“Yes, of course she is,” answered Bingley, puzzled.
“The beautiful one with blond hair and blue eyes — am I correct?”
“Yes, your ladyship.”
“The one who looked at you, Mr. Bingley, as if you were some sort of icon? The one who almost swooned when you spoke to her and appeared to forget how to breathe when you were smiling at her? That was Jane Bennet? That was the lady whom you - exceedingly perceptive and intelligent gentlemen - believed to be indifferent last year and about whom you are still uncertain, Mr. Bingley? She was the one you were talking about?”
Lady Cassandra’s tone grew more and more sarcastic, matching her sharp gaze which moved from Darcy to Bingley. Before any of them could answer properly, she turned her back to them and exited the room while she whispered angrily, loud enough to be heard, “What a couple of ridiculous fools…”
A surprised Bingley and a furious Darcy tried to protest Cassandra’s insult but did not have time as the door closed behind her. Later that evening, while he easily accepted he was a complete fool and even worse, Bingley understood precisely what he had to do the very next day.