To Conquer Mr. Darcy

  “I have had the good fortune to be invited to accompany my aunt and uncle from London on a tour of the Lakes this summer.”

  “That sounds like a pleasant prospect. The Lakes are very beautiful. I imagine that you will enjoy them greatly.”

  “You have visited them yourself, then, Mr. Darcy?”

  “Indeed, I have been fortunate enough to have made that journey twice; once when I was young, and again some ten years ago in the company of my late father. It is, of course, a much shorter journey from Derbyshire than from here, so it was less of an undertaking. The scenery is quite as sublime as everyone says. I recall from my first trip that my mother was especially taken by the views; she was a passionate lover of nature in all of its wilder manifestations. I was still a bit young to notice it then.”

  “And when you were older—what did you think of it then?”

  “By the time of my second journey, I was far more able to appreciate the beauties for myself, but perhaps less predisposed to enjoy them, as the trip was a difficult one for my father. It brought back memories of my mother’s delight in the area.”

  “He must have been quite devoted to her,” she said, touched by the personal nature of his recollections.

  It was a moment before Darcy spoke. “Yes, their affection for one another was exemplary.”

  How had she allowed their discussion to touch on such private matters? Elizabeth’s anxiety returned in full force. She fiercely renewed her attention to her needlework, with the unsurprising result that her needle promptly found its way into her finger. With a muffled exclamation of pain and embarrassment, she raised the injured finger to her lips, completely unaware of the effect that this simple gesture would have on Darcy.

  “When is your journey due to begin?” he asked, desperately trying to distract his attention from her lips.

  “We leave at the end of June,” she replied, relieved to return to safer ground.

  Almost three weeks, then, he thought. Enough time to make a start, if all goes well.

  The gentlemen soon rose to go away, and Mrs. Bennet, mindful of her intended civility, invited them to dine at Longbourn in a few days time.

  “You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley,” she added, “for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement.”

  Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of his concern, at having been prevented by business. They then went away, leaving Mrs. Bennet free to dissect every word of Bingley’s during the course of the afternoon. She was very pleased with how things had gone off, and made many happy predictions for his future with Jane. Elizabeth, too caught up in her own thoughts to come to Jane’s rescue, hardly attended until she heard Darcy’s name.

  “What I want to know,” said Kitty, tossing her head with a laugh, “is who that pleasant, polite man who looked just like Mr. Darcy was. What could have caused such a change?”

  “Perhaps he has studied the errors of his past behavior, and sought to improve himself,” responded Mary, who had clearly been quite won over by his recollection of her musical skills. “We should all admire such attempts when they are guided by reason, and look to him as an example that we all could bear to follow.”

  Two

  As soon as she was able, Elizabeth walked out to recover her spirits, or in other words, to dwell without interruption on those subjects that must agitate them more. She puzzled over why he had come, first inclining to believe that it was to watch over Bingley, but then guided by her instincts to think it related more to her. But how could a man of such pride bring himself to approach her after her insulting behavior? His changed manner toward her family seemed to suggest that he had taken her reproofs to heart, but she did not wish to assume too much.

  Her own feelings were less a mystery to her. She was complimented, to be certain, that he apparently valued her opinion to the extent of heeding her reproofs and altering his behavior, but she had previously felt no desire to see him again. But was his steadfastness a reason to change her estimation of him? There was so much that remained unknown. She resolved to think no more about him until she had a better sense of his intentions, but this resolution proved difficult to maintain for more than a short time at best, as thoughts of him kept intruding at odd moments.

  She did not expect to see him again until Tuesday, when he and Bingley were engaged to dine with them, but was unsurprised when two days later he rode up to her as she was walking through the countryside. As she saw him approach, unable to avoid noticing the fine figure he cut on horseback, she resolved to meet him with composure and civility for Jane’s sake, but found her pulses racing as he swung off his horse and drew near her.

  “Mr. Darcy,” she murmured as he bowed.

  “Miss Bennet, this is indeed a fortuitous meeting. I was just thinking of consulting with you on a certain matter.”

  She smiled playfully. “One can hardly call it fortuitous, sir, to encounter me on a ramble on such a fine day as this one. It is more a foregone conclusion, I would say.”

  From the brief look that passed over his face, her attempt at light-hearted conversation had hit an unintended mark. She wondered whether he had indeed been looking for an opportunity to encounter her alone, and was conscious that her cheeks were warm.

  “It does seem that we both have a propensity to enjoy the air. May I join you?”

  “If you indeed wish to consult with me, it would seem a wise idea,” she said gravely.

  He glanced down at her, noting that she had neatly avoided stating an opinion on his presence, and wondering whether it was mere politeness that precluded her from refusing his company. The wrenching sensation this thought caused was almost enough to lead him to abandon the effort, but he forcefully reminded himself of his intention to show her that he had changed.

  “I wished to speak with you regarding my sister,” he said stiffly. “As I mentioned, she is anxious to make your acquaintance, but I am reluctant to bring her to Longbourn to make the introduction, as I am concerned she would find the situation difficult to manage.”

  Elizabeth felt a swell of disappointment. I should have known better than to think he would truly change, she thought. He does not wish to expose his sister to the defects of my family and our intolerable social connections. “Indeed, Mr. Darcy, I can suppose that she, like some others, might find me more appealing in the absence of my family,” she said tartly.

  Darcy turned to her in obvious distress. “Miss Bennet, I fear you have mistaken my meaning. I hope that Georgiana will meet your family very soon.” Aware that he was stumbling badly in his attempt to convey himself, and fearing that he had already lost any ground he might have gained, he said, “May I speak frankly, Miss Bennet?”

  “You may be as frank as you please, Mr. Darcy; I doubt that there can be worse than what I have already heard in the past,” she said, growing more heated by the minute.

  Darcy cursed himself silently. “Miss Bennet, I do not deny that I richly deserve your reproaches for what I have said in the past,” he said with all the humility he could muster. “But I beg of you to listen to what I am saying now. My sister is quite painfully shy. She finds it extremely difficult to speak with people she does not know, and is accustomed to a very quiet life. If I were to bring her to Longbourn, or any other household full of unknown lively people who are unafraid to speak their minds, I can guarantee she would be unable to say a word, and would leave convinced of everyone’s dislike of her. I very much would like her to come to know you, but I cannot see any way to accomplish this unless I can find a more quiet setting for you to become acquainted.” He forced himself to pause, aware that his words were rushing out of him with some desperation.

  Her silence told him he had failed, and that his hopes of forgiveness were in vain. Sick at heart, he said, “I apologize, Miss Bennet,
for my clumsy words. I have obviously made a misjudgment in broaching this matter. I assure you that no offense was intended, and I am sorry to have caused you any distress. I shall no longer disrupt your morning; please be assured that I shall not trouble you again.” With a formal bow, he turned to leave.

  Elizabeth was heartily ashamed of herself. To have jumped to such a conclusion could perhaps be understood, but to not allow the poor man a chance to explain himself before she began abusing him yet again—had she not learned anything from that humiliating experience at Hunsford? Was she forever to be mistaking this man? “Mr. Darcy,” she said quietly, her eyes on the ground, “I am the one who needs to apologize, for the misjudgment was mine. I arrived at an unwarranted conclusion and should not have said what I did. If you are still willing, I would like to hear what you have to say.”

  Elizabeth could not bring herself to look up, but had she done so, she would have seen Darcy stop at her words, and a look of great relief come over his face. He took a moment to collect himself, and then said, “I would like that as well, Miss Bennet.”

  “Perhaps you could tell me in the kind of setting Miss Darcy is most likely to be comfortable with,” Elizabeth said in a somewhat subdued voice as they began to walk again.

  “I hoped you might be willing to meet her at Netherfield,” he said tentatively. “Then, perhaps, once she knows you better, I could bring her to Longbourn.”

  “I would be happy to come to Netherfield, sir. Would you care to suggest a convenient time?” Elizabeth’s eyes were still downcast.

  “Miss Bennet,” said Darcy in a tone of emotion. “At the moment I would rather say how sorry I am to have distressed you, and to ask if there is anything I can do to relieve your discomfort.”

  Elizabeth looked up at him with a hint of a smile. “Your aunt, Lady Catherine, condescended to tell me on several occasions that I would never play the pianoforte really well unless I practiced more. By that measure, I must be developing true virtuosity in the art of feeling ashamed of things I have said to you, since I have had a great deal of practice at it.”

  “The difference, perhaps, being that I derive a great deal of pleasure in listening to you play pianoforte, and I would not have you berate yourself, especially since your response was understandable given the insufferable things I have said to you in the past. I have acknowledged to myself the truth of the reproofs you made in April and I have attempted to attend to those matters, but I realize you have no cause to believe that as yet.”

  Elizabeth could not begin to imagine how much those words must have cost a man of such pride. “There was also a great deal of untruth in the accusations I made that day, though I did not realize it at the time. I should apologize to you for believing without question the falsehoods of Mr. Wickham. Ever since reading your letter, I have felt ashamed of my lack of discernment.”

  “Mr. Wickham’s manners can be most persuasive when he so chooses. Had I told you immediately upon seeing him in Meryton what I knew of his past, the situation would not have arisen, but since I thought it beneath me to lay my private actions open to the world, I have no one to blame but myself for your misunderstanding.”

  “Sir, you are very harsh upon yourself, and seem to expect me to take no responsibility at all for making misjudgments of my own.”

  “Have I not reason to be harsh upon myself? Since you are apologizing for what you see as your errors, should I not express regret for my abominable condescension and ungentleman-like behavior? I do not do so, Miss Bennet, not because I do not believe there to be cause, but because I do not believe any apology to be within my power, other than to demonstrate that I have seen the error of my ways.”

  “We had best not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but I must and will hold myself responsible for the errors I have made, despite your generous attempts to exculpate me, sir.”

  “Miss Bennet,” he said gravely, “perhaps we could demonstrate we have both improved in civility since that time by agreeing to begin anew and attempting to see one another without preconceptions.” If she refuses this, I know not what I shall do. Now that I have seen her again, how can I accept she will never be mine? he thought, awaiting her response with trepidation.

  Elizabeth could not but be aware of the significance of his request, but was unsure what her response should be. She was relieved to have cleared the slate by expressing her regrets to him, and would be pleased by a cessation of hostilities, for the sake of Jane and Bingley if nothing else. But did she wish to allow anything more? She could not imagine developing a tender regard for Mr. Darcy, and it would be cruel to raise any false hopes in him, yet refusing this overture that he had clearly come all the way to Hertfordshire to make would certainly be hurtful as well, and she was beginning to appreciate that he was a man of greater depth than she had realized. Glancing up at him, she saw a drawn look that clearly bespoke the tension that he was feeling, and discovered she had less capacity to disregard his feelings than she would have thought.

  “I would be willing to entertain the possibility that we might yet be friends, sir, but as I do not wish to raise hopes for any future understanding that might come from it, I would ask you to reconsider whether this is a path you wish to tread,” she finally said, gazing into the clouds in the distance, wondering how she would feel if he in fact demurred.

  At least she did not refuse completely, he thought, surely that must be promising. Her statement was disappointing in its view of the future, but he could not forget that she had made an effort to resolve their earlier misunderstanding at some cost to her own pride, when it would have been far easier for her to simply let him go. He wondered whether her actions spoke louder than her words in this case, or whether they were no more than a manifestation of a sense of honor that would not permit her to leave him under a misconception. He could not be certain, but perhaps it was enough simply to be allowed to be with her for now. Yes, it was enough, more than enough. “I believe that I shall take my chances, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth felt a not completely unpleasant sort of tension from his response. She had not thought he would be so open about his intentions. Any other gentleman of her acquaintance would have agreed to be friends, and not suggested a desire for more at this stage. What was it he had said at Hunsford? Disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Clearly, she would need to accustom herself to a greater degree of frankness than she usually encountered. “I do not know whether you are brave, foolhardy, or both, Mr. Darcy,” she said, attempting to lighten the atmosphere.

  “‘Nothing ventured is nothing gained,’” he replied with a smile.

  “‘Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,’ Mr. Darcy,” she said in lively retort.

  “‘Fortune favors the brave,’ Miss Bennet.”

  “Let me see… ‘the fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.’”

  Darcy smiled wickedly. “‘None but the brave deserves the fair.’”

  Elizabeth, knowing she had been outdone, asked, “Was that Lovelace?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Dryden, actually.”

  She laughed. “Well, sir, you have bested me for today. I shall have to retire from the field.” And I have made the startling discovery that the sober Mr. Darcy, despite all rumors to the contrary, appears to have a sense of humor.

  “I believe that I shall claim a penalty, then, and request that you come to Netherfield to meet my sister,” he said.

  She gave him a sidelong glance. “Right now?”

  “Unless you are otherwise engaged.”

  She inclined her head with an arch smile. “No, sir, I am not. You may lead on.”

  “I could, Miss Bennet, but that would be foolish, since you no doubt know the route better than I.”

  “A fool who knows his own limitations, then,” she said playfully.

  “A fool that knows his own heart, at least
.”

  Elizabeth colored. “I believe the shortest route to Netherfield is that way, Mr. Darcy.” And fortunately it is not very far, she thought. Thinking it was high time for a change of subject, she asked him to tell her about his sister, a subject that kept them occupied most of the journey.

  Elizabeth felt embarrassed arriving at Netherfield in the company of only Mr. Darcy and then entering without a chaperone into a bachelor household. She knew this would likely occasion some talk among the servants, and hoped none of it would find its way back to Longbourn. She was relieved of these societal concerns when she finally encountered Miss Darcy in the music room, where she had been practicing the pianoforte. She seemed startled to be interrupted, but gave a quick, bashful smile when Darcy introduced Elizabeth to her.

  Darcy had not overstated her shyness, Elizabeth decided. “I am delighted to meet you at last, Miss Darcy. Your brother has told me so much about you,” she said with her warmest smile.

  “I am sure he has been far too kind in what he has said,” Miss Darcy said softly, “but I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet.”

  “I have heard great praise for your musical abilities.”

  Miss Darcy glanced at her brother. “I fear he is prejudiced in my favor, but I do love music.”

  Elizabeth put aside her own sense of discomfort by expending all of her considerable abilities to put Miss Darcy at ease. She was pleased to discover that underneath her shyness lurked an intelligent young woman eager to have a friend. Elizabeth entertained her with stories about her sisters, and encouraged her to talk about her time at school.

  Darcy participated but little in the conversation, seeming quite content to observe Elizabeth, who found his gaze the more disturbing now that she understood its true nature than when she had thought he watched her only to criticize. As soon as civility would allow, she made her excuses, claiming that she would be needed at home. Miss Darcy stumbled through an invitation to call again soon, which Elizabeth warmly met with an invitation to visit at Longbourn. She stole a sly glance at Darcy to see how he bore the suggestion, but saw no evidence of concern or displeasure.