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CHAPTER TEN

PEACE OF MIND

Elizabeth was grateful beyond belief to learn that Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had left very early the morning after the marriage proposal—at first light, apparently, and a full week before they had been expected to depart.

She would never have to see Mr Darcy again. There was a part of her…a silly, stupid, Lydia-ish little part—a part that, frankly, she was doing her best to eliminate from her character—that was foolishly flattered by his very unflattering proposal. She stormed over the paths of the park, trying to rid herself of the myriad confusing, angry feelings overwhelming her.

He compared Mama to a spaniel! she recalled. Those nervous, yapping, excitable little dogs who… She faltered a bit. It was not entirely unfitting, although certainly unkind.

But Papa! Her father had abilities and respectability which Mr Darcy need not disdain! Mr Darcy said nothing about his respectability, her conscience reminded her, but my father’s unwillingness to supervise my younger sisters.

She might have given way to a sense of despair, except for her knowledge that he had ruined the hopes and happiness of Jane. “Towards Jane, there can be no possibility of objection! She is the epitome of loveliness and goodness and would be a wife to make any man proud!” In fact, he had remarked upon both her and Jane as being different in commendable ways. So why, why had he separated her from Mr Bingley?

Perhaps it was the parade of ‘clowns and spongers’, she thought, with a bitterness that surprised her, remembering Mr Collins’s ridiculous behaviour in his presence, the way he had attempted to use his relationship with Lady Catherine as a lever to push himself forward.

Still, Mr Darcy’s own relations were not without fault. She had hardly been in company with Lady Catherine, but every trait her cousin and even Charlotte ascribed to her ladyship seemed nothing worth emulating. “And his cousin, Miss de Bourgh, she is not so wise and moral and respectable as she pretends!”

At this notion, she abruptly stopped herself. Miss de Bourgh had, once, long ago, made a terrible mistake with a ne’er-do-well. Nevertheless, Elizabeth had grown up with the good and reliable Mrs Hill, whom her mother had taken in as a kitchen maid when Elizabeth was but six years old. She and Jane had overheard their father’s objections to her hire, although they had not truly understood them until they were much older, and had vowed to each other that they would never repeat them.

Mrs Hill was a good woman, hard-working, respected by all. But if Mr Gardiner had not come across her on the Wapping docks where she had been abandoned by just such a villainous rogue as had once enticed Miss de Bourgh, and thence sent her to Mama, she would have had no future at all. Elizabeth shuddered to think of it. If the sensible and shrewd Mrs Hill could be deceived by a scoundrel, perhaps almost anyone could be.

“Papa and Mama took her in because, ultimately, they were wise enough to trust my uncle’s judgment. If they ever did hold her past against her, they have long since forgotten it.” She finally turned back towards the parsonage. “Mama is not all nerves, and Papa is not all indifference. No one can be fully defined by their worst moments. I am glad they are my parents, for they love me in their own ways, and I would not want any other, even if they are imperfect.”

She found a measure of peace in her thoughts as the day wore on, and although she could secretly hardly wait for the end of her visit in Kent, she could look forward to seeing her sister in a fortnight.

Darcy ran a hand through his hair, disordering the curls his valet had so ruthlessly tamed.

Bingley peered out the window overlooking Hurst’s Mayfair shrubberies, his spine stiff and straight.

“I wonder what else you have failed to tell me,” Bingley said. “Do you believe me incompetent? Unable to manage an estate? Is that the real reason why you advised me to close Netherfield?”

“I did not lie to you—Netherfield was not, is not, the estate for you. The drainage is too poor, the roof requires an expensive replacement, and the house is dark, draughty, and requires too much repair. But…but yes, my sense of urgency was related to Miss Bennet. I did not realise she had feelings for you; I thought I was liberating you from an unequal affection. I did not lie about that, either. She is amazingly restrained.”

Bingley continued his perusal of the Mayfair home’s back garden. “I do not require your protection, Darcy. I own there is much I do not know, and much I wish to learn from you. I took your experience with estate management and your experience with women to be equivalent.”

“That was your first mistake,” Darcy said gloomily, and sat down on the sofa with a sigh.

Bingley turned to face him at last, appearing slightly incredulous.

“I fell in love with Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy admitted. “At the same time, I allowed my fears of taking responsibility for the rest of her family—apart from Miss Bennet, of course—to affect my judgment.”

Bingley shook his head in apparent disbelief. “Her younger sisters are just that…very young. Had I married Miss Bennet and you wed Miss Elizabeth, not only would their eligibility have increased, but also their inducement to listen to and emulate their eldest sisters. The life that we could offer them would have been motive for improvement.”

“How reasonable you are.” Darcy sighed. “However, their mother is still⁠—”

“Worried,” Bingley interrupted. “I would say, nearly beside herself with worry. How would you feel if that singular Collins fellow was to inherit Pemberley? Could you trust him to look after Georgiana?”

Darcy shuddered. “I do not say her worries are unfounded. It is only that Miss Elizabeth, her family, her entail, her relations—everything about her was so very different from my expectations. I believe I…I panicked.”

Bingley sat down beside him at last, leaning his head against the back of the sofa and joining Darcy in staring at the ceiling. “So—you saw Miss Elizabeth again in Kent, and she told you that Miss Bennet’s feelings for me were stronger than you had hitherto realised. I would like to know how that conversation came to be.”

“I asked Miss Elizabeth to marry me, and she told me all the reasons why she would not. Chief amongst them seemed to be how I separated you from her elder sister, causing Miss Bennet’s heartbreak. I have yet to discover how she learnt of it. But perhaps…the proposal itself did not come out as…as eloquently as it might have done.”

“If you blurted out your love for her, it must have been a shock. I do not think anyone had any idea of your having feelings for her, least of all the young lady. I certainly find myself surprised.”

Darcy shook his head. “If only. No, I blurted out all the reasons why I had been withholding my love. I drew her attention to every unfortunate flaw in her family tree, so that she would understand why I had found it so difficult to propose.”

“You did not.”