Elizabeth had been sure Mr Darcy would call that very morning and had woken early despite the late hour in which they had gone to bed. She’d hurried through the motions of dressing and breakfasting, wanting to be ready whenever he was announced. Elizabeth knew Mrs Mountford’s discretion could be counted on. Although she had not confided in her aunt, Elizabeth was confident she would interpret the signs and leave them alone for a while. What a difference a few days and two dances had made. On the day of the picnic, she had been so sure of his never being likely to renew his addresses and now she was quite certain he meant to do just that.
Elizabeth’s heart fluttered furiously at the thought of what he might say, how he might begin and after pacing the length of the parlour a few times, looking out of the window at the street futilely and checking her reflection in the looking glass and laughing at her vanity, she eventually settled down to some work, seeking to calm herself with a task that required a measure of concentration.
When the doorknocker eventually sounded she jumped out of her seat with alacrity and threw her embroidery aside. Her aunt was still upstairs in her private parlour answering invitations and dealing with her always mountainous other correspondence. Were she and Mr Darcy to be afforded a few moments now, so easily? Was this to be it? The time when her future was decided? She did not for a moment doubt her answer, but how to give it with some grace and decorum, without becoming a bumbling fool – that was the challenge. And what if he wanted to kiss her? She put a hand to her chest and stilled herself. Was she prepared for that?
When her sister walked in, instead of Mr Darcy, an odd mix of relief and disappointment brought forth from her a sigh so violent as to make Jane’s expression one of concern.
“Goodness me, Lizzy,” she exclaimed on entering the parlour, “are you well, you look somewhat distressed?”
“I am perfectly well, thank you.” Jane had always been a comfort to her but today there was only one person who had the ability to ease her mind and make her happy.
“I thought you might walk to Mollands with me and have some tea and cake. I have heard much of the deliciousness of the place and wanted you to show it to me.”
“Oh, but, Jane, are you not tired after your long journey yesterday? Would you rather not stay and take tea here?” The alarm it caused her to think she might miss him could not be described. He had specifically asked permission to call, thought Elizabeth. What if he took her absence as a sign she didn’t want to see him?
“No, do let’s go out.” Jane protested. “I am not at all fatigued and have only a few days to enjoy Bath. I don’t want to waste them indoors. Look at you, you are wearing such a pretty gown, we ought to show it off and the weather is lovely. Come Lizzy, do walk out with me.”
“Did I hear the door? Have we visitors?” Mrs Mountford said, entering the parlour. “Ah Jane, how are you this morning?”
“I am well, Aunt, Mr Turner is engaged on business, so I am trying to persuade my sister to join me in the delights of Mollands, but she is oddly resistant.”
“Elizabeth refusing cake, a preposterous notion! I never heard of such a thing. We shall all go. I could do with some air myself. Elizabeth, you ought to fetch your parasol for the sun is high in the sky already.”
As she had just professed to feeling well, Elizabeth could think of no excuse which seemed reasonable and so she went to her room, as bid, to fetch her parasol and change her shoes; all the while raging at the injustice of being forced to go out and enjoy herself.
Jane waited until Lizzy was out of sight before seeking reassurance from Mrs Mountford. “Lizzy seems a little agitated, is something amiss?”
“Ah, just a malady of the heart I believe.”
“So, you think this business with Mr Yorke has affected her more than she will admit to?” asked Jane with a frown.
“Oh, that nonsense with Yorke - tis just a little gossip, she will not give it a second thought in a few days time.”
Jane was thoughtful for a moment and peered out into the hallway to ensure Lizzy was not already descending the stairs. On finding the way clear she leaned towards Mrs Mountford. “This malady of the heart you refer to, would it possibly involve ‘dear Mr Darcy’?”
Mrs Mountford nodded. “They have been skirting around each other for weeks. It has been most entertaining. Although, I confess I am now eager for him to come to the point and declare himself.”
Smiling, Jane shook her head. “I did notice her rather marked change in behaviour towards him last night. Do you really think her in love?”
“I have never been so certain of anything. We shall now have much mooning about, looking out of windows and wanting to stay at home in case he should call. Dinner will go untouched and there will be many a heavy sigh permeating the air. If only he would get on with it and relieve the poor girl’s suffering, and while he’s about it, mine too, for I will not get a word of sense out of her until he does.”
“I suppose,” said Jane thoughtfully, “that a gentleman once refused, and in so vociferous a manner as Lizzy refused him, might be forgiven a little wariness.”
Mrs Mountford’s astonishment was great. “She refused him, when?”
“Oh, I thought you knew. I should not have…”
“I will not breathe a word of it, my sweet girl, I promise, but now you have made a beginning you must tell me all.”
Jane looked back at the hallway again. “He offered for Lizzy some years ago, when they met in Kent. She was opposed to him for various reasons, some of them based on the lies of a scoundrel, but mostly I think she found him too proud, she did not like his manners.”
“Well, to turn down Mr Darcy! What a thing. She’s such a bold one.” Mrs Mountford laughed.
“Oh, she didn’t just turn him down, Aunt. She has only related a little of the conversation to me, but I believe she fairly knocked him back on his haunches.”
“My, that does put a different perspective on matters. Well, he looks the sort who has plenty of courage, so I don’t doubt he will sally forth once again. How delicious. I shall enjoy my cake even more now and in a few months, my sweet niece, perhaps we might be enjoying a slice of bride’s pie too.”
Elizabeth had asked the footman twice already, once when they had returned from Mollands and then two hours later. No, he had said on the first occasion, there had been no callers whilst they were out. No cards or notes had been left. On the second occasion, he had looked at her a little strangely, and assured her she would be informed immediately of any visitors or letters. She had only been in the front parlour and had been well placed to hear of any such events first hand, so she well deserved his odd look. It was now nearly dinner time and they waited for the arrival of Mr and Mrs Turner. Once she had changed and descended into the hall, she opened her mouth only for Thomas to respond before she even asked. “No Miss, no callers.”
She was contrite and he gave her what she thought was a sympathetic smile in return. Oh to be pitied by one’s footman!
Mr Darcy, she reasoned, had many demands on his time. There was his sister, his estate, his other relations. Maybe he had not had the opportunity to get away today, or maybe he had simply wanted to wait for the intimacy of night time. Maybe he would come after dinner. It was not unusual in Bath, for someone who was well acquainted with the family, to make calls just after dinner, despite the late hour. She had taken extra care with her dress just in case.
Jane and Mr Turner arrived and she hoped she managed to be a good companion, although several times she found herself missing the first part of a conversation, only to be bemused by the second half. On the third occasion of having to admit to not attending after having been asked a question, she saw the amused, shared smiles of her family and resolved to snap out of her reverie. Mr Darcy would either come, or he would not, and no amount of introspective pondering would hurry him along.
After dinner, Mrs Mountford asked if Mr Turner might remain with her in the dining room so she might seek his advice on a matter of business and Jane retired to the drawing room with Elizabeth. The ladies chatted and embroidered and Elizabeth surreptitiously watched the minutes tick by on the clock, despite her resolution to think on it no more.
Given the opportunity of time and distance, doubt crept in and settled beneath her breast. Had she imagined his warmness of the previous night? Misread his looks and tone? It would not be the first time she had got things so badly wrong. Four years previously she had been unconscious of his love and had read his gazes as disapproval, when they had clearly been admiration. Was she now, conversely, seeing something that was not there? Did he now regret asking to call on her? The very worst thought to occur, in her darkest mood, was that perhaps he was playing games in a bid for revenge. What if he meant to engage her affections and then disappoint her in return for the wound she had once inflicted on him? But no, she could not believe it of him. He was too honest, too honourable and straightforward a man. But such was the wretchedness of her thoughts, the depths of her confusion, that for some time she considered such a rotten plot a real possibility. ‘If his intentions are true’ she thought, ‘he cannot stay away tomorrow’. She could forgive him one day, but she could not possibly bear another in the midst of such agony. ‘If he does not come to me then,’ said she, ‘I shall give him up forever’.
And, just as this had flittered through her mind, there was the definite sound of a visitor in the hall. The drawing room door opened and in walked a gentleman. It was, unfortunately, not the gentleman she wanted to see.
Colonel Fitzwilliam entered with his usual broad smile and a deep bow. Elizabeth looked hopefully behind him, but he seemed quite alone.
“Forgive my calling so late, but I leave Bath tomorrow and wanted to give my adieus.” He sat with them for a half hour, explaining he was leaving for London to see his bride. Mrs Mountford and Mr Turner joined them from the dining room and there was some pleasant conversation. When he rose to leave, Elizabeth accompanied him to the hall. He looked quickly towards the drawing room before taking her hand rather forcefully in his. She did not understand at first and her surprise showed before he said. “My cousin was hoping to call on you today. He has been prevented from doing so and wishes me to convey his regrets.”
Elizabeth nodded. Her heart was flooding with relief that he had not forgotten her, but she attempted to look composed. “I see, well it is a shame he was not able to come today, but he… you are both welcome to call at any time.” It was then she felt the piece of paper pressed into her palm.
Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed over her hand, closed her fingers around the note and kissed her knuckles. “Thank you. Darcy has had to leave Bath due to some unforeseen circumstances, but I very much hope we will both see you again soon.”
As he made for the door, she smiled, but her heart was split in two. One part dismayed that Mr Darcy was no longer in Bath and the other part eager to unravel the small piece of parchment she had been passed.
“Thank you, Colonel. I wish you a safe journey and a very happy marriage.”
“Of the happy marriage I have no doubt. I only wish the same for all my family, especially for Darcy. I hope he finds joy too. Perhaps I might even have the pleasure of you visiting at Rosings one day?” He laughed at her blush and then he was gone, disappearing into the night.
The paper burned in her hand. Elizabeth was faced with the problem of how to excuse herself long enough to read it? For its contents must be known to her immediately.
“Oh, Elizabeth,” called Mrs Mountford. “Would you fetch my shawl from my room? It is laid across the bed. For the night has grown quite chilly.”
Did she know? Had she seen the passing of the note? Or was it a happy coincidence? Elizabeth poked her head around the doorway into drawing room. Mrs Mountford met her gaze without expression, seemingly naive.
“Of course, Aunt, I shall be back directly.”
She raced up the stairs into Mrs Mountford’s room and this was what awaited her.
I am disconsolate. I had hoped to call upon you today. You will forgive the manner and the method of the passing of this note. I am bound on a mission to Scotland. An event has occurred that has thrown our household into disarray. It is the worst that could happen. A lady has run off, cast aside all her friends and thrown herself into the path of a man for whom, I am afraid, I have little regard. She has done so without the knowledge or approval of her family.
Her heart pounded with fear for Georgiana, but Elizabeth’s rational self didn’t really believe her friend capable of such a grievous error. Georgiana was grown wise to the ways of men now. She would not act so rashly.
The second paragraph assuaged her fears.
Miss Bingley stole away in the night, it is believed in the company of Mr Yorke. I hope you will understand - my duty must be to follow them and assure all ends well. I know I can trust in your discretion and that you will keep this information private until such a time when it might be publicly known.’
Elizabeth did understand why he had gone. She now knew well the gentleman’s sense of honour and thought of the day of their picnic – when Frederick Yorke had driven so recklessly and Mr Darcy had said. “I don’t know how I would have explained it to your father if anything had befallen you.” Thus was the man she loved. If she had ended up in a ditch by the side of the road, it would have been Mr Darcy who would have taken on the task of riding to Longbourn with the news. She felt such an ache for him then, within her heart and her whole being. The paper quivered in her hand.
I bid you adieu, for now. I hope, nay I pray, we meet again soon and I will think only of you while I am gone. If you are not in Bath on my return, I will seek you out at Oakdene. You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings for me are still what they were four years ago, I will understand. One word, one look from you will silence me on this subject forever. But you should know that my affections and wishes are unchanged and you are always, my sweetest, loveliest, Elizabeth.
F.D.
The note fell to the floor, such was her shock, but she snatched it up quickly, breathing heavily. She read it through again twice and then folded it back into a very small square. She concealed it in a drawer in her own room, before making her way back to the drawing room. Her colour was high and her mood could not even begin to be described. She suspected she was a little teary eyed when she entered the drawing room. Mrs Mountford and Jane sat on the sofa with a small space between them that Elizabeth somehow made room for herself within, seeking their comfort.