Lizzy was in her room lying on the bed staring at the ceiling. After sharing with Charlotte the awful scene that had taken place in her parlor, her friend had tried to lift her spirits by suggesting that once Mr. Darcy had time to recover from the hurt of her rejection, he might renew his attentions. But when Lizzy acquainted Charlotte with the contents of his letter, she suggested that they go into the village and think of other things.
Lizzy kept Mr. Darcy’s letter under her pillow, but no longer needed to look at it as she could now recite it from memory. “I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes, which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten.”
Despite Mr. Darcy’s hopes, Lizzy doubted that either of them would soon forget what had been said, and the angry words she spoke still echoed in her mind. “You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.” She groaned and turned on her side. If she expected Mr. Darcy to examine his actions, then she must do the same. This whole sorry affair was not about Jane or Wickham; it was about Elizabeth Bennet and her wounded pride. She had shut her eyes to all that might be good in him. When Jane said Mr. Bingley doubted the truth of Mr. Wickham’s story, she refused to hear it. She would not listen to anything that challenged her assumptions. At the Netherfield ball, she chided Mr. Darcy for his lack of conversation, but when he suggested sharing their opinions on books, she refused. “No, I cannot talk of books in a ballroom. My head is always full of something else.” So go away and leave me alone, so I might think about George Wickham.
Lizzy stood up, ran her hands over the creases in her dress, and returned her curls to their rightful place. Revisiting the scene time and again was doing her no good, so she decided to join Charlotte in the parlor. As she was going down the stairs, she heard the bell ring, and fearing for a moment that it might be Mr. Darcy with another letter, she went back upstairs. Please, no more letters! One is quite enough. However it was not Mr. Darcy, but Miss Anne de Bourgh, and she quickly returned to her room. A few minutes later, a servant knocked on the door to let her know that Miss de Bourgh was waiting for her downstairs. When Lizzy went into the parlor, she found her visitor was all alone.
“It is very good to see you again, Miss Elizabeth,” she said, giving a slight bow, which Lizzy returned. “Mrs. Collins excused herself, as she needed to discuss the household accounts with her housekeeper, but she has ordered tea for us.”
While Miss de Bourgh was removing her cloak, Lizzy noticed what fine features she had: thick, dark brown hair; beautiful, flawless skin; clear, blue eyes with long dark lashes; and the high cheekbones so favored by painters, but she also saw how she appeared to be as fragile as a porcelain doll.
“Miss Elizabeth, may we sit nearer to the fire? I am quite chilled from the ride.”
Lizzy moved a chair closer to the fireplace and offered her guest one of Charlotte’s heavier quilts. The day before, Charlotte had taken them out of the storage chest, guessing correctly that the warm temperatures could not last.
“I hope you do not object to my unannounced visit. Since my cousins, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, are now gone, the house is quite empty—and silent. And I miss conversation. I very much enjoyed listening to you when you joined us for supper. You have such a sparkling wit.”
“I do not think your cousin, Mr. Darcy, would agree with that assessment.”
“Oh, I can assure you that you are wrong. He found your conversation to be engaging, even challenging. You gave him pause for thought, and in several instances, got the better of him—something quite new to his experience.”
Lizzy rose to help the servant with the tea, but she also needed time to reflect on what was happening. Charlotte had deliberately made herself scarce because Lizzy knew that Monday was the day when she went over the household accounts with Mrs. Elvin. Today was Thursday. For whatever reason, Miss de Bourgh wanted to speak to Lizzy in private.
“Shall we dispense with the formalities? If I may call you Elizabeth, you may call me Anne.” Lizzy smiled and nodded her assent. “I understand you are shortly to return home, and I did not want to miss an opportunity to visit with you before you left.”
Anne picked up the teacup and clasped her hands around it for warmth. After taking a sip, which she needed because she was shivering, she continued.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy, or Richard and Will, as I call them, are like brothers to me, and I shall miss them. We are very fond of each other and have been since we were children. Along with Richard’s elder brother, Lord Fitzwilliam, we are all very close in age, and we spent hours together in the playroom at Rosings. It is quite large—large enough to have a theatre for plays and a stage for puppetry, and our seamstress made the most wonderful costumes, each one having lots of feathers. We were very keen on feathers. We wrote the plays ourselves, and according to my father, Lord de Bourgh, the boys always kept the funniest lines for themselves.”
Lizzy smiled at the thought of Mr. Darcy and the colonel on the stage. What would their plays have been about? Pirates, of course. Boys always wanted to be pirates with eye patches, earrings, and swords. Or possibly knights in shining armor with Anne playing the damsel in distress.
“When Will was at Cambridge, Richard and I went to see him play cricket,” Anne continued. “He is a superior batsman, and to this day, he will boast of the time when his alma mater defeated Eton in two contests within a period of three days,” Anne said, smiling at the memory. “Did he ever mention it when he was in Hertfordshire?”
“No, he did not. Our only opportunity to speak was on the dance floor—not the best place to learn about your partner, and Mr. Darcy left Netherfield Park shortly thereafter.”
“How unfortunate—for both of you. Perhaps there will be other opportunities.”
Not if Mr. Darcy had any say in it, Lizzy thought.
“As I have said, he is very much like a brother to me, and when I find myself quite overpowered by my mother, I need only send a letter to Will, and he will come and rescue me. Before Mama leased our house in town, we spent many happy hours together during the season in London. I am not very strong, and I cannot dance more than one or two dances. But even though all the ladies were making such a fuss over him, Will was never far from my side.
“Because of my health and the distance, I do not often visit the Darcy estate, but I have very fond memories of long summer days in Derbyshire. But, of course, now that Will is the master of Pemberley, everything is changed from when we were children. He holds himself to a very high standard. It is he who must visit all of the tenants. It is he who must know how many lambs were born in the spring and how much grain was gathered at harvest time. His tenants hold him in the highest regard, as do the villagers. He can hardly walk down High Street without people rushing out of the shops to greet him, and if you allowed him, the vicar would go on and on, singing his praises about his generosity and kindness to those in need.
“And with all of these responsibilities, he tells me they are nothing compared to that of being his sister’s guardian. He is quite devoted to her. Georgiana is eighteen now, and as you can imagine, is very eager to come into society. He has done everything he can to prepare her. It was almost laughable to see him with her at the milliner’s shop. But she insists on hearing his opinion, as she is equally devoted to him.”
Lizzy thought back to an evening at Netherfield Park when Caroline Bingley had asked Mr. Darcy if he admired her new bonnet. “Miss Bingley, as you well know, you will wear what is currently in fashion, and when it is out of fashion, you will stop wearing it. So if I said I liked your bonnet today, I might find come next spring that I must say that I do not like it. Wear what pleases you. I have no interest in such things.” And, yet, Anne was saying Mr. Darcy went with his sister to the milliner’s shop. Lizzy could just picture him, crossing and uncrossing his legs, and drumming his fingers on the top of his hat, when he was not pacing the floor. Lizzy wondered if he would have done the same for her if she had accepted him.
“There are so many people who look up to him that I think the weight of his responsibilities has taken some of the joy out of his life. With so much to do and at such great distances, I have noticed he has less patience and his speech can be brusque and, therefore, easily misunderstood.” Leaning towards Lizzy, Anne added, with tears in her eyes, “He truly is the best of men, and it would pain me to think there was someone out there in the wider world who thought ill of him because they do not know him as I do.”
Lizzy now understood the purpose of the visit. There was no doubt Mr. Darcy had shared with his cousin that he had made her an offer of marriage and her rejection of it. Her presence confirmed that he had related the details of the scene that had played out in this very parlor, and Anne was determined that before Lizzy returned to Hertfordshire, she would hear about the Mr. Darcy she knew and loved.
Lizzy could hardly look at Anne. There was such longing in her face, and she wanted to reassure her. But what could she say? She sat quietly staring into the fire, and it was several minutes before the words finally came. When they did, they came from her heart.
“Anne, I admit that when I first met Mr. Darcy he puzzled me exceedingly, and as you say, he can be brusque. But I have learned a great deal about him since those first days in Hertfordshire. I cannot speak for others, but I can assure you that I do not think ill of him.”
Anne let out a sigh of relief. “I shall tell you, Elizabeth, that Mr. Darcy improves upon acquaintance, and when next you meet, you will find him to be a much more agreeable fellow.”
“That is a most unlikely event. Mr. Darcy and I do not move in the same circles in town, and it is my understanding that it is Mr. Bingley’s intention to quit Netherfield Park, which means I will not see him in the country either.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Life holds so many surprises,” Anne said, standing up. Although she was clearly tired from the visit, she looked quite content while Lizzy looked much less so. “May I write to you, Elizabeth?”
“Of course, if I may write to you.”
Taking Lizzy’s hands in hers, she said, “I shall not say good-bye because I am quite confident we will meet again.”
As soon as Anne’s phaeton turned down the lane, Charlotte came rushing into the parlor. “Lizzy, what was that all about? When Miss de Bourgh asked if she could speak to you alone, I thought you had earned the ire of her mother, and she had come to warn you.”
“No, nothing like that,” Lizzy said, shaking her head. “When Miss de Bourgh learned I was to return home, she wanted to visit with me before I left Kent.”
“But you were in there for more than half of an hour. What was discussed?”
“Little of importance, except how life does have its twists and turns, and that certainly is true. However, one can predict the future with some degree of accuracy based on one’s own knowledge of past events. And rare events do occur, but it is their lack of repetition that makes them rare.” Was it really possible that she would see Mr. Darcy again?
“Lizzy, what on earth are you talking about?”
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”