CHAPTER 11

They travelled most comfortably, as it happened, for the Colonel left word that a carriage should await Miss Marianne Dashwood’s pleasure, to convey her and her sister to town. By mutual agreement, the Miss Dashwoods and the elder Miss Bennets travelled together, leaving the barouche to the merry party of three – Mrs Jennings, Mrs Bennet and Lydia. Merry they were, and her mother was no exception. As Elizabeth had fervently hoped, the joys of a visit to town left Mrs Bennet with little thoughts to spare for Miss Marianne and her role in damaging her own daughter’s prospects.

It was a long but pleasant journey, despite Marianne’s subdued spirits, which her sister and friends unsuccessfully endeavoured to raise. Her deep concern for Colonel Brandon’s safety prevented her from taking as much pleasure in the scheme as she would have in different circumstances, and all she could think of was her impatience to find herself in town, and once more in his company.

They arrived three days later, and although Marianne promptly dispatched a note to Colonel Brandon’s townhouse in St James’s Street, the unfortunate business must have taken him elsewhere, for she had yet to receive a reply.

They had been in town but two days when, just as the Bennets were preparing to call on their relations in Gracechurch Street, a visitor was announced, to see Miss Dashwood. Marianne sat up in anxious expectation, but to her surprise the caller was for her sister, not herself. Elinor looked up as the visitor was admitted, blushed profusely and remained silent, but Marianne advanced towards him with undisguised delight.

“Dear Edward,” she exclaimed. “How glad I am to see you! This almost makes amends for everything. ”

The newcomer murmured something about the pleasure being his; but, overwhelmed by the large company, he said very little to Marianne and even less to Elinor, and once the introductions were performed, he took a seat and remained there in silence, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Elizabeth could not help feeling his arrival meant a vast deal more to Elinor than to Marianne, although the effusive greetings came only from the latter. Of the opinion that their own departure would improve matters, she persuaded her relations to make haste, and soon they all set off to Gracechurch Street.

Seeing her dear uncle and aunt made Elizabeth happier than she had been in a very long time. All was joy and kindness, and although the reunion was noisier than most, no one could object to the general air of gleeful commotion, as they exchanged their news and delighted in each other’s company, after the lengthy separation.

During the cheerful family dinner, Elizabeth learned that her aunt and uncle were about to travel to Netherfield before long. They were to embark upon a tour of pleasure in the North, and Jane had kindly offered to have the little Gardiners in her care for the duration.

“As you are here, Lizzy, your uncle and I were wondering whether you might like to join us.” Mrs Gardiner smiled with great affection towards her favourite niece as she added, “I fear I may have put you in a quandary, for you must be eager to spend some time with Jane at Netherfield, as well as with your other friends in town.”

“My dear Aunt, the quandary of choosing between several happy schemes is indeed no hardship,” Elizabeth replied with an airy little laugh, and her aunt pressed her hand.

“I am distraught we cannot take all of you,” Mrs Gardiner said as she turned towards her other relations, “but I daresay you would not have wished to offend Mrs Jennings, in any case.”

“Think nothing of it, Sister. I am quite certain that only Lizzy wants to go. Well, perhaps Kitty might have, but she can join you next time,” Mrs Bennet replied with a casual wave, and her proverbial tactlessness. “As for myself, I would not exchange the delights of town for fifty lakes and mountains. There are hills aplenty in Devonshire, you know. You should come to see the sights, and spend some time with us. There is more than enough room for all of you at Farringdon Lodge. ”

“Thank you, Fanny, you are very kind,” Mr Gardiner observed, mild exasperation in his countenance, as was often the case whenever he talked to or about either of his sisters. “Now, as to our travel arrangements, would you allow me to offer a suggestion?”

Her mouth full, Mrs Bennet eagerly nodded, and Mr Gardiner continued:

“What say you of travelling to Netherfield with us in a fortnight, when we set off for the North? You could stay awhile, Sister, along with Lydia and Kitty, then perhaps Bingley could make arrangements for your return to town, to Mrs Jennings’ house, so that you might spend more time with your friend, and some happy hours in your favourite warehouses. The rest of us should be away for about a month, but even so, Lizzy, you would still have a fortnight with Jane before your return to Devonshire. It would not leave you long with Mrs Jennings though, or at least not as long as she thought, but from your tales she seems a kindly, well-disposed person, so I trust she will forgive you.”

No scheme could have been more agreeable, so Mr Gardiner’s suggestions were greeted with delighted approbation.

When they finally returned to Portman Square, Mrs Bennet promptly withdrew to her chambers, too tired to spend more than the requisite time in company, but the younger ladies remained in the drawing room with Mrs Jennings and the Miss Dashwoods.

As soon as she was reunited with her friends, Elizabeth could tell that something of great import had happened in their absence. At first, she was concerned there might have been some ill tidings from the Colonel, but their air, Elinor’s in particular, reassured her that there was nothing to fear in that quarter. Her friend, habitually so reserved and composed, was flushed with nervous excitement, and as for Marianne, she seemed ready to burst.

Nothing was disclosed in Mrs Jennings’ presence as, given the lady’s penchant for gossip and her interest in other people’s affairs, they knew it would spread much further than it should, and that they would not hear the end of it in a hurry. Thus, it took a good measure of self-restraint to keep them quiet on the subject until such time as it was polite to withdraw, without abandoning their host to Lydia’s mercy for her comfort and entertainment. At that point, the four of them gathered in the Miss Dashwoods’ chamber, and Elizabeth and Kitty were told to prepare themselves for an astonishing account .

To Elizabeth, who had eyes in her head and a good head on her shoulders, it did not come as a great shock to hear that the decidedly uncomfortable-looking gentleman who called in the morning actually came with the intention to propose to Elinor, any more than she was surprised to hear he was accepted.

The rest made for a less predictable narrative, and Elizabeth listened with concern to what her friends had to say regarding their family history, as well as the lack of welcome Elinor expected from her future husband’s relations. As to the heart-warming tale of Mr Ferrars’ journey into Devonshire – only to learn that he had missed them by a day – and his hasty return to seek Elinor in town, Elizabeth heard it with as much affectionate pleasure as Marianne felt while she was sharing it.

~ ** ~

Mr Darcy’s foray into Devonshire was equally unsuccessful. After a gruelling journey undertaken in about half the usual time, he arrived to find a house that, even from a distance, appeared closed and shuttered, and clearly not prepared to welcome visitors.

Unfortunately, the impression was confirmed as they drew nearer. When his carriage finally pulled up at the entrance, there was still no movement, no servant to greet them, and no one came to answer his footman’s knock. The man had to keep knocking quite vigorously for some length of time, until a young and flustered maid appeared. A kitchen or scullery maid, if one were to judge by the large apron she was wearing, and was employing even then to dry her hands.

“Beggin’ yor pardon, Sorr, but the family’s away,” she stammered, and Darcy’s heart sank. “There’s not a soul ‘ere but meself an’ Cook. Mrs Hill, our housekeeper, went off to see ‘er sister in Ware, an’ is due back Friday week. As to Mr Wilkins an’ the other girls—”

“Will Mrs Bennet and her daughters be away for long?” Darcy sought to interrupt the excitable effusion with as much evenness of tone and manner as he could muster, but his efforts were ill-rewarded when the girl spoke again.

“For two months at least. Mrs Hill told Cook so, the other day.”

“And they have gone to…?”

“To town, Sorr. That’s to say, to Lon’un.”

“I see. Can you tell me where they are staying? ”

“Nay, Sorr,” she squeaked, visibly unnerved by the unprecedented task of attending callers, especially when she had no answer to give. “But Mrs Hill’ll know. If it pleases ye to leave yor name, Sorr, I’ll be sure to tell ‘er as soon as I see ‘er. She’ll send ye’ word, an’…”

But Darcy was no longer listening. He saw no purpose in leaving his name, but thanked the girl with an absent-minded nod and returned to his carriage. The coachman was instructed to head back, and as the conveyance took to the road again, Darcy removed his hat and let his head fall back against the cushions with a heavy sigh.

In town! She was in town, not here, and if he had extended his visit at Netherfield, by now he might have known where she was. But on Monday last he had decided it was high time he took himself away. He had been there for an age, it seemed, yet it had served no purpose, despite his careful attempts to extract some intelligence of Elizabeth.

He had endeavoured to steer drawing-room conversation towards the Bennets’ acquaintances in Devonshire. Had peppered Bingley with carefully-worded questions about his new relations’ concerns. Once, he had even gone as far as to ask Mrs Bingley whether any of her sisters were about to marry – and presumably shocked her in the process, for he had never asked anything of the sort before.

His determined efforts had been rewarded with sundry details about a Mrs Jennings and her kind attentions; about the baronet, Sir John Middleton, who lived nearby; about some new additions to the area, the Miss Dashwoods – and of course, disturbingly, Brandon was very often mentioned as a valued acquaintance of the Bennets, a close neighbour, a frequent visitor into their home. Yet he could learn nothing about what really mattered – about Elizabeth’s wishes and her plans.

Darcy drew a long breath and closed his eyes. Truth be told, his stay at Netherfield had taxed him beyond anything imaginable. His best friend’s happiness had only served to emphasise what it was that he had lost. Nay, not lost; never given himself the trouble to gain in the first place.

Even a blind man could tell that the Bingleys were very much in love – and Darcy was far from blind. Quite the contrary, with his perception heightened by his wretchedness, he was aware of every look, every smile, every whisper showing that Charles Bingley, Esq. was happily married to the woman of his dreams, and her devotion to him was absolute. And Darcy could not bear it.

The only real benefit of the stay at Netherfield had been its effect on Georgiana. She had positively blossomed under Mrs Bingley’s affectionate attentions, and it was a balm to her wounded spirits to have constant proof that not all attachments were feigned, and true marital bliss was not just a poet’s hyperbole. Darcy could hardly recognise the dejected girl he had brought into Hertfordshire at the end of May in the luminous young woman who had left him a few days ago to travel to Pemberley, in Mrs Annesley’s company.

As for himself, he had decided he could not impose upon the Bingleys’ hospitality indefinitely, for their sake as well as his own. He had also decided that no answers could be had at Netherfield – and he would have to go in search of them at Farringdon. Which was what had brought him there, and yet there he sat, as much in the dark as he had ever been.

What he could not decide, long as he had to ponder over it throughout the gruelling and unnerving journey, was what he would say to her. Nor how he could justify his appearance on her doorstep, other than with a false claim of business or acquaintances in the area – a dangerous game, for it increased the risk of having his connection to Farringdon exposed. But it could not be helped. He had to come. He had to know! He had to see her with this Brandon and learn once and for all if her affections were engaged or not.

His jaw tightened. The still unanswered question burned – as did the other: would he have found the strength to leave in silence if he had discovered that they were?

He forcefully exhaled in sudden anger. He knew not. He knew not what he was doing there, even. Another bout of folly, another show of arrogance. What made him think he could have read her mind, her heart, had she been there?

“Thompson, stop the coach!” he impulsively called out.

The carriage duly slowed, then came to a halt at the side of the road, and Darcy opened the door and let himself out before any of his attendants could lower the step for him.

The road had brought them all the way up to the top of the hill. A thick carpet of low-lying heather stretched before him, then abruptly disappeared where the sheer face of the cliff dropped almost vertically to the shores below .

He walked across towards the edge. A small, secluded cove lay more than a hundred feet beneath, and Darcy could see a path snaking its way through the stunted, windswept bushes, and leading to his right, back towards the lodge. Had she walked down that path, or strolled barefoot along the beach? Had she sheltered on a warm sunny day under the lone birch that now swayed dangerously in the high winds, part of its branches torn and scattered all around? Had she sat on that large, flat rock and watched the waves relentlessly rolling in?

The sea was far from calm now. There was no gentle breeze; no lazy waves lapping at the shores. The waves came crashing in, the tide at its highest, their angry tumult sending torrents of white foam and spray over the outcrop that protruded from the troubled waters. The wind whistled, tearing savagely at his coat, blowing his hair back – yet there he stood, his eyes on the rolling clouds, the stormy sea.

Had she ever stopped here? Had she stood by, watching the unleashed fury – or had the heavens been calm and kind to her?

There was no path leading down from where he stood, and even if it were, what purpose would it have served to follow it? She was not there, and the aching need to see her rose sharply in him, as violent and forceful as the seas below. Where was she? And for how much longer must he bear the consequences of his abysmal error? How long, until he knew what Fate had in store?

“Sir…?” he heard Thompson call tentatively from behind him. “I say, Mr Darcy? Sir?”

He turned, pushing his hair back, for it was blown violently over his face now, and looked up questioningly towards his coachman.

“We should not tarry long, Sir. Not on this spot here,” the man cautioned. “The horses are mightily unsettled by this wind. Any moment now they could be terrified out of control.”

With a comprehending nod that was part apology, Darcy returned to the carriage and closed the door behind him. His horses were not the only ones terrified by the mighty storms that stood to be unleashed in Devonshire.

~ ** ~

The journey back to town was long, dreary and devoid of hope, with nothing to make it bearable, not even the anxious impatience that had spurred him on the way down. He still had no answers, and no clear notion as to what he could do now, other than write to Bingley in the hope of ascertaining Elizabeth’s whereabouts in town. That, and scan the columns of the papers, praying he would not find a betrothal announcement.