While Lizzy packed her trunk for her visit with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner to Derbyshire, her sister was watching her closely. Having never been to the Peak District or Matlock or Chatsworth, Jane would have expected Lizzy to be talking nonstop about all the wonderful things she would see in her travels. Instead, her thoughts were obviously elsewhere as she kept folding and refolding every piece of clothing in her trunk.
“We have had another letter from Lydia, but this one is quite different. She is not as enraptured about Brighton as she was in her earlier letters when she wrote of meeting officers at the library and of her new gown and parasol. Apparently, Mrs. Hill was correct about Mrs. Forster, and because of her condition, she is sick for most of the day, thus limiting her excursions. Lydia is chafing at having to stay indoors, even though she writes about visiting the shops, a concert, and a number of dances. But as you and I know very well, Lydia requires constant entertainment.”
“I shall be very glad when she has come home. If we are fortunate, she will return to Longbourn without embarrassing herself or her family,” and then Lizzy returned to her packing.
“Lizzy, what is the matter? Why are you not excited about your holiday? You seem unsettled.”
Lizzy abandoned her packing and sat down on the window seat next to her sister.
“I am excited about our visit to Derbyshire, but I have to admit I have been unsettled ever since my return from Kent. I have had a letter from Charlotte in which she reiterates that she is content to be the wife of Mr. Collins. However, I ask myself, how is it possible for her to be satisfied with her situation when she is married to a man of such meager intellect and who is often ridiculous? But Charlotte says she is content, and I must believe her.”
“Are you afraid that you will be forced into a similar situation?” Jane asked. “I know I am. I do so want to marry for love and not just for the protection marriage provides women like us who have no fortune.”
“Jane, unlike me, you need not worry,” Lizzy said emphatically. “You turn heads wherever you go, and this summer, you will visit Aunt Susan and will be introduced to a whole new crop of gentlemen. You know she is determined to see you well married.”
“I think, if asked, Aunt Susan would include you in the invitation. I would be glad to write to her on your behalf.”
“As you are well aware, Aunt Susan does not like me as I am guilty of having my own opinions and expressing them. Lady Catherine said something similar about me,” and Lizzy imitated the high-pitched voice of Her Ladyship. “‘You have very decided opinions for one so young.’ She did not like me either.”
“Lizzy, you made the mistake of thinking Aunt Susan and Lady Catherine actually wanted your opinion. What they desired was one-sentence responses, so that they could take over the argument. But you will not perform as they wish. If you are to remain in their good graces, you should do as I do. You must say, ‘Yes, no, and thank you.’ That is all that is required, and you will be assured of being asked to visit again.”
“In other words, I should pretend ignorance of all that is going on about me and limit my conversation to the weather and other mundane topics. And I must not read the books or newspapers in Papa’s study or visit the circulating library. It will not do, Jane. I have never had any patience for the things society dictates that a young woman must know or do. My French is painful to the ear. Instead of walking in the meadows, I should have practiced more on the pianoforte, and I would have been better served if I had remained at home, as you did, painting tables and making sketches of the dogs instead of playing with them. Unlike Miss Georgiana Darcy, I shall never be considered an accomplished lady.”
“And yet, Mr. Darcy proposed marriage. It seems he did not care if you painted tables or made sketches, and words of love sound just as beautiful in English as they do in French. I think he was attracted to you because you were different from the other ladies he meets when he is in London. I daresay he had grown tired of deference.”
“Well, I certainly never deferred to him,” Lizzy said, laughing. “I do not think he said anything that I did not challenge, possibly accounting for the quizzical expression he wore whenever he was in my company. But I fear I have painted too unflattering a portrait of Mr. Darcy. He is a man of parts, and I fear I have judged him too harshly. If I can but forget that awful afternoon when he proposed and that dreadful letter, there were times when he was quite pleasant.”
Lizzy thought back to the conversations she had had with Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam in the great room at Rosings Park. While discussing events on the Continent, Lizzy had learned that both men had gone on the Grand Tour after finishing at Cambridge. Before being interrupted by Lady Catherine, Colonel Fitzwilliam was on the verge of sharing a story about Mr. Darcy from the time when they were in Venice for Carnavale. She would have loved to have known what costume Mr. Darcy had chosen for the masked revels—something with a black cape, she imagined, that would conceal everything but his eyes.
“It must seem unreal to you,” Jane said, “Mr. Darcy of Pemberley asking you to be his wife.”
“Oh, I can assure you that it is very real. Jane, can you imagine the storm that would have ensued if I had actually accepted Mr. Darcy? Looking at it from that point of view, I believe that he is in my debt. I have saved him from the rantings of his aunt and the ridicule of his friends,” she said with a laugh in her voice. “But seriously, I have the greatest fear that I will encounter him at Pemberley. He would rightly ask what I was doing there and what would I say? I would be mortified.”
“But being the gentleman that he is, Mr. Darcy would offer to show you about the estate, and after you had left, he would wonder if you had reconsidered his offer and if he might renew his attentions to you. And this time, he would receive a very different answer.”
“Yes, I can picture Mr. Darcy down on one knee making a second offer of marriage to me,” Lizzy responded, shaking her head at the absurdity of her sister’s idea. “Oh, Jane, those things only happen in novels. But should such an event occur, you will be the first to know.”
To Jane, the reason why Lizzy was so unsettled was obvious. She had rejected an offer of marriage from a man of elevated rank and with very high connections, and Jane recognized that she was part of the reason why her sister had refused Mr. Darcy. Although Lizzy had not said anything about it, she understood her sister’s temperament well enough to know that she did not become angry without sufficient cause.
It was true that Lizzy’s dislike of Mr. Darcy was based on his unkind words and haughty behavior at the assembly, but that would not have been enough for her to reject out of hand a proposal from a man of such consequence. And as sympathetic as Lizzy was to Mr. Wickham being denied a promised living, Lizzy had not known Mr. Wickham well enough to become so angry as to be dismissive of Mr. Darcy’s offer. The intensity of Lizzy’s rejection could come only as the result of someone she loved being hurt, and that someone was Jane.
In all these months since Mr. Bingley had left Hertfordshire, Jane had gone over and over every moment she had spent in his company. She recalled their first dance and how he had looked at her. Even while he was dancing with the other ladies, his eyes kept seeking her out, and he would smile or wave. When he asked her for a second dance, she felt something stir within her. In her twenty-two years, she had had her share of flirtations, but this was something very different, and she knew it from that very first evening.
Right up to the Netherfield ball, everything had been going splendidly. That evening, Mr. Bingley had abandoned all pretense of being interested in any other lady, and during supper, he had told her that he anticipated great changes in his life in the very near future. But within the week, he was gone.
Jane now understood that Caroline, Louisa, and Mr. Darcy had worked in concert to ensure that Mr. Bingley made no offer of marriage to a woman who had no fortune, no connections, but who did have a family who was guilty of the most inappropriate behavior. Despite this realization, Jane did not blame any of them. Caroline and Mrs. Hurst believed they were acting in the best interest of their brother, while Mr. Darcy was looking out for the welfare of his friend. She could bear that. But the thought that Mr. Bingley was insincere in what he had said to her was too painful to contemplate. She finally concluded it was simply a matter of the depth of his affection not matching hers. As she had once said to Lizzy, “Women fancy admiration means more than it does.”
However that was not the case with Mr. Darcy. He was so in love with Lizzy that he had set aside the very same objections he had raised with regard to Mr. Bingley. His feelings were so overwhelming that the impropriety of her mother and sisters receded into the background. Poor Mr. Darcy! How he must have suffered at her sister’s rejection, but a love so strong would not just go away. But what could be done to reunite the two? If only it were possible for Lizzy to meet Mr. Darcy during her time in Derbyshire, but as her sister had said, such things only happened in novels. But one could hope.