Pride, Prejudice & Secrets (12 page)

He was silent for a few more paces before he said, “I shall be frank. I
want
to tell you everything, yet I still find it difficult to speak of my private thoughts. Among other things, I was…lonely.”

She looked up at him as they walked, and his face was tight as he spoke. “I have had many responsibilities thrust upon me, and I forced myself to assume them when I wished to do differently. I have done what was expected of me…but I did so in strict isolation that, I fear, is hardening into distant reserve. Everyone, especially young ladies, and most especially those with ambitious mothers, courted and flattered me. I value civility and manners, yet I was sick to death of excessive courtesy and deference. I am not a joyful man, Elizabeth…but your playfulness and liveliness drew me. They gave me hope…that I might not have to be so alone my whole life.”

Elizabeth suddenly stopped, and her hand on his arm pulled Darcy to face her. She had heard enough. This man was not perfect; she knew his manners were not as they should be, not as she wished them to be, but he seemed at least a little aware of that fact. She had an inkling of what it must have cost a man like him to admit as much to her, but she wished no more of confessions and the baring of sins of the past, for she had by no means been perfect in her actions with this man.

“Mr. Darcy,” she said firmly, “I have a tendency toward teasing and asking question in a jesting manner, and it occasionally evokes the wrong type of answers as it did this time. I will try to do better in the future if you will help me. Will you do that for me?”

Darcy looked at her rather blankly for a moment then jerkily nodded.

“Good,” Elizabeth said, more softly. “Then, shall we not start our lives together from this point?” And Darcy nodded again, this time more confidently.

“Excellent. In fact, I would recommend you adopt some of my own philosophy and think only of those parts of the past which give you pleasure. Do you not think that would be a good idea?”

After looking at her a moment, Darcy said in a controlled voice, “If that is your wish, dearest Elizabeth, then…I will try. If you will help
me
.”

“I will do my best, Mr. Darcy. And I do believe I can ensure that that you will not be lonely in the future. In fact, it is more likely that you will grow weary of my constant conversation and wish for a little solitude. But then you must remember my weakness for jesting.”

“You really should try to do better, Elizabeth,” Darcy said solemnly.

“I shall do so.” She smiled at his attempt at humour. Then she placed her hand in his and looked up at him. “I do believe engaged couples are, in all propriety, allowed to hold hands in public, are they not?”

Darcy nodded, though a strange tightness in his throat prevented any words for some minutes as they walked out on the Bridge, hand in hand, and stopped, looking down at the slowly flowing current of the Thames with all the boats passing below them and the busy inhabitants of the largest city in the world passing about them.

“You wished to see me, Uncle?”

Edward Gardiner looked up to see Elizabeth standing in the doorway with his wife, and he was pleased to see his niece looking like her usual self, save for being a bit thinner.
That does not seem too bad a price to pay for her first real illness,
he thought and smiled at her in relief.

“Yes, I did, Lizzy.” He marked his place in his ledger book and set it aside. “Please, come in and sit down.” She did so, and Mrs. Gardiner closed the door and joined her.

Elizabeth noted the closing of the door and cocked an eyebrow at her uncle. “Ah, so we are to discuss serious matters then.”

As her uncle came out from behind his desk, he was heartened that Elizabeth could indulge her usual humour, though he thought her gayness somewhat forced. He and Madeline thought the coming interview was necessary, but given its sensitivity, he did not wish to make it too formal by presiding from behind his desk.

Once seated, he looked closely at Elizabeth. She looked a bit anxious, and he sighed inwardly, for he would have preferred to avoid this discussion. But Madeline, knowing her niece and having observed Darcy’s earlier visit, thought the discussion was needed.

“I assume you wish to talk about Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said candidly.

“In a way, in a way. But it is more about you than just Mr. Darcy.”

“I know you were surprised to learn of our engagement.”

“We were, but that in itself is not altogether surprising, at least for you. While you make many amusing comments that give the appearance of forthrightness, we know you do not wear your emotions on your sleeve, and you keep your own counsel.

Elizabeth said nothing, and he smiled as he said. “In fact, you are doing so at this very moment. Very well, let me get down to the matter. Madeline said she noticed a distinct difference this morning in the way you and Mr. Darcy acted toward each other.”

“In what way?” asked Elizabeth cautiously.

“It is nothing definite, but your aunt said Darcy appeared absolutely absorbed with you, while you watched him very carefully indeed. Then, after you convinced her to allow you to go walking with him…”

“Which went very well, uncle,” Elizabeth said with a quick smile. “I greatly enjoyed being outside and even managed to crawl back to the house under my own power.”

“Indeed you did, Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner said, “but being dismissive about it will not divert your uncle. There was the manner in which you argued that, since you and Darcy were engaged, you did not need Jane as chaperone. It was a valid point, but it appeared as if you were searching for something in particular from Mr. Darcy.”

“And Madeline also said you appeared much more comfortable with him when you returned,” her uncle asked quietly. “May I infer that you found what you sought?”

Elizabeth looked back at him soberly and nodded. “I did indeed, Uncle.” Then, seeing her simple statement insufficient to satisfy two such perceptive relations, she went on, determined not to lie but equally resolved not to reveal all the particulars of her inner thoughts.

“I had hoped to be less transparent, but it appears my powers of disguise are not as sufficient as I hoped.” She gathered her thoughts.

“Oh, I am sure Mr. Darcy did not notice,” said her aunt. “And Jane is so loving that she only saw how much he admires you.”

“Jane never changes, does she?” Elizabeth said fondly. “Because our courtship was so rapid and more than a little constrained, considering his aunt’s nature and my own illness, I wanted — needed — to talk with him privately. I had to assure myself I was not rushing into marriage without sufficient information as to his feelings as well as expectations of our life together.”

“And I assume you were satisfied?”

“It was indeed,” she said, her words simple but firm. “I believe we will have to confront challenges…”

“…as every marriage has to, except those described in these newly fashionable novels,” her uncle said dryly.

“…and he really is a most complicated man. I am prepared to meet disappointments, but I believe there will be no insurmountable problems.”

I still wonder about the reserve and disdain I saw last autumn,
she thought,
but he has not displayed it since he came to Rosings. I am certain it remains part of his character, but it may only be displayed in certain situations. In any case, he is a complicated man.

“He is somewhat stiff at times,” said Mr. Gardiner. “He was a bit reserved when he first met your aunt, for example, but he warmed to her quickly. She has that quality of mixing civility with kindness that breaks down barriers quickly…”

“Thank you, Edward.” Mrs. Gardiner’s smile combined both affection and a measure of teasing. “You are too good to me.”

“I do try, my dear. In any case, when Mr. Darcy discovered she spent some years at the village near his estate, they spent the rest of the evening in very animated conversation.”

Her uncle frowned as he said, “However, I noted a return of his stiffness when Madeline mentioned meeting George Wickham in Hertfordshire at Christmas. And he looked over at his sister, but she was talking with Jane and did not notice anything untoward. Madeline, of course, steered the conversation to other topics, and Darcy slowly relaxed. There is something there, Lizzy. Madeline told me you are convinced Mr. Wickham lied to you about Miss Darcy.”

“There is simply no other interpretation for what he said of her,” Elizabeth said firmly. “It was a complete and utter fabrication. You saw her when we met, Uncle. Not only is she not proud and disdainful, I am convinced she was never anything other than courteous, gentle, and very, very shy. She was
never
proud and haughty. And if Wickham lied about the sister, he also lied about the brother.”

Mr. Gardiner nodded in agreement and said tentatively, “Have you thought of asking Mr. Darcy about it?”

Elizabeth only shrugged. “I considered it, but I do not need to do so. William and I decided on our walk to start our lives together from this point forward; there are, as both of you well know, certain aspects of our acquaintance that would be best forgotten, and we shall do so. As long as Mr. Wickham does not intrude on us, I am determined to enquire no further.”

“You are too sensible, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “Jane could use some of your sensibility…while you could use some of her tolerance.”

“Probably so, Aunt. I well remember your telling me at Christmas that it would have been better if Mr. Bingley had jilted
me
rather than Jane since I would have soon laughed myself out of it.”

“I remember Madeline mentioned that conversation,” her uncle said. “Poor Jane. Did Mr. Darcy mention Bingley? I wonder if that episode is completely over.”

“It must be. He said Bingley will stand up for him and offered the use of his estate when I return to Longbourn…and the ordeal of my mother planning the wedding and showing me off to all her friends.”

Elizabeth grimaced as she contemplated her mother’s intemperate exultation, and she vowed she would keep Darcy isolated from as much of that as possible.
Many, many walks,
she vowed.
Through the garden, through the countryside, and into Meryton. I know Mama is deficient in common sense, but not even a man who loves me should have to put up with an excess of her silliness.

“I believe you know Mr. Darcy dined with us last night?” her uncle asked, and Elizabeth nodded.

“We had thought you might feel up to joining us,” Mrs. Gardiner said, “but you were still sleeping, so we entertained him ourselves. Rather, we entertained them, since he brought his sister, who was, as you said, quite shy. But she relaxed during the meal, and she and Jane seemed to get on quite well.”

“Did you tell Lizzy about the children, my dear?” Mr. Gardiner asked, and his wife shook her head.

“I never got around to mentioning it, Edward. Perhaps you should tell the story?”

Mr. Gardiner nodded. “As I mentioned, Darcy talked very easily with your aunt. Even so, I was pleasantly surprised when we introduced the children. They have been anxious to meet your future husband, especially Emily, so we had Sandra bring them from the nursery, intending simply to make the introduction and then send them back.”

Elizabeth smiled at the comment about Emily, for she was the older of her nieces and quite precocious and outgoing.

“But Darcy immediately straightened up and invited them to come closer. He carefully reviewed their names, fixing each name in memory, and then introduced the children to his sister. I was really surprised at both his interest and his ease with them.”

“As am I,” Elizabeth said reflectively, “but perhaps I should not be. He has, after all, had the charge of his sister for many years now.”

“Very true, from what he said. But, as I was saying, after he introduced Miss Darcy, Emily asked what they should call her. He said, since she would soon be their cousin, he did not think the proprieties would be offended if they called her ‘Cousin Georgiana.’ But he grew serious and said, ‘But you must call me “Cousin Darcy” since I do not use my first name.’ Emily then, of course, asked why, and he looked over at us rather ruefully and said, ‘The only criticism I can make of my esteemed parents is that they named me “Fitzwilliam.” My name thus became the surname of both sides of the family, “Fitzwilliam” on my mother’s side and “Darcy” on my fathers. I do not even have the possibility of using my middle name, for they did not assign one.’”

“Oh, my,” Elizabeth said. “Poor man!”

“Poor man indeed — and just wait until you hear the rest! Emily was by no means finished, and she interposed as she so often does — she reminds me of you, in that regard, you know — anyway, she said, ‘Uncle Darcy, I say this with respect, but I cannot blame you for not liking your first name.’”

“Oh, no!” Elizabeth exclaimed, closing her eyes in pain.

“Do not despair, Lizzy! I am not through, for Darcy amazed me yet again. Instead of being offended, he just threw back his head and roared with laughter. He could not stop laughing and had to wipe the tears from his eyes. Then he pulled Emily close because she was looking somewhat fearful — after the fact, of course, as usual — but he only embraced her, still smiling, and said, ‘Then you and I are of one mind in this, Emily. No one calls me Fitzwilliam.’”

Mrs. Gardiner said, “He really does show an attachment to children, Lizzy. I quite like him and not simply because the two of you are engaged. In fact, I hope you will not think us presumptuous, but we both like him very much. In all I have observed, his behaviour has been perfectly civil and polite. And if he is somewhat stiff and needs a little more liveliness, then you, as his wife, will have ample opportunity to teach him. I think you have made a most prudent and fortunate choice of a husband.”

“It was more that he chose me than I chose him, Aunt,” Elizabeth said reflectively. “If I have had good fortune, it is little due to my own efforts and more due to sheer chance.”

How did I never see any evidence of his interest until he proposed?
she wondered.
Charlotte noticed an interest, both in Hertfordshire and at the Parsonage, and I did not listen. If I am the observer I thought myself, I should have noticed something! And what about this sudden amiability? It has to be part of his character; men do not suddenly start acting so differently in such cases. I admitted to his affection for his sister but never considered the possibility it might extend to more than his own sibling. He really is the most complex man I have ever known. Will I ever understand him completely?