Mr. Bingley seemed to understand that Elizabeth always wished to hear news of Darcy when he had it, but there was nothing really to hear. Mr. Darcy was healthy and well. He sent his greetings to all his friends in Meryton — and he was settled in Pemberley.
Settled in Pemberley.
The situation following Mr. Sykes giving up the quest, as it were, was not nearly so unpleasant as Elizabeth had anticipated — her mother assumed that Elizabeth had been disinterested in him because she had hoped to catch a far bigger prize, and Mama even thought that she had nearly succeeded in forcing her prize to strike its colours… andmaybeeven might succeed still, though the odds appeared unhappy. This was an explanation for Elizabeth’s behaviour that did not disgust her mother’s mercenary heart.
Likely Mama would scream at her and borrow a knife from the kitchen for purposes of murder if she learned that there had been no artifice, no schemes for Darcy’s hand, and that Elizabeth had simply not liked Mr. Sykes.
Mama herself, as she told Elizabeth several times over the following weeks, had not at all been confident that her efforts to ensnare Mr. Bennet would succeed, but she had thrown her whole heart into the effort, as her mother had advised her, andlook how happy they had been until his untimely death. If only the entail had not been present… but she was very happy that Jane had been able to marry Mr. Collins, and she loved Mr. Collins as much as she would have loved her own son, if such a person had ever been born.
More, likely.
Even if he ought to give them more money, so that they could hire a proper cook, carriage, and more than one footman.
The result of all these discussions, all this tension, and the simple fact that Elizabeth did not have any person about who she could really talk with or feel in deep sympathy with was that when Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner arrived from London, Elizabeth burst into tears and sobbed on her aunt’s shoulder for a full ten minutes the first time they had a private discussion.
“There, there, there, dear,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “And let us call for tea. I had not realized from your letters that you had been so strongly affected.”
“Mama gives me no peace. And I confess it, my heart has received a bruising. Do not worry, it will heal.”
“You were in love with Mr. Darcy, were you not?”
“I still am.” Elizabeth mournfully sighed. “I keep imagining that he might ride from Pemberley to call. Even though he made clear, on many occasions, that we can be nothing but friends. I accepted that, but it would have been easier if that sad business with his sister had not called him away so suddenly.”
“I was shocked that a Darcy would behave in such a way. But a person’s character is not only a matter of blood and breeding.”
“Poor Darcy. He must feel it so deeply. And he could not have anticipated such a thing. He told me that she was a shy and retiring girl.”
“You cannot continue to hope forever,” Mrs. Gardiner said wisely.
“I will laugh myself into happiness sooner or later.” Elizabeth sighed. “It has been a month. I begin to expect that I shall only be happy againlater. I fear I shall never meet a man who has so many good virtues. I should focus on his defects — he is arrogant, high handed, convinced of the rightness of his own path, and dismissive of the worth of those in our situation in life. He spoke slightingly of you and Uncle Gardiner as my connections in trade.”
“All a slender basis on which to establish an enduring hatred for a man who you like very much, when you are honest enough to admit that it is wholly reasonable for a man in his position to see things in such a way.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I do not wish to hate him! No, no, no! I wish to merely feel the platonic affection towardshimthat he holds towards me.”
Mrs. Gardiner shook her head. “No, no. A book I recently read spoke of how friendships between an unattached woman and a man can be most dangerous. How did it put it? The line struck me as very sensible: A woman should not give way to a pleasing delusion and imagine that she will be satisfied with the friendship of a man she admires and prefers to the rest of the world.”
“I daresay that describes me precisely,” Elizabeth replied. She felt relaxed. The blood thrummed through the veins and arteries more easily. Simply being able to talk with another human being who understood her, like Papa or Darcy did, was a tonic to her soul. “But what physic does this author suggest once one has succumbed to the illness?”
“I believe she chiefly advised tonotsuccumb. To be wise and avoid coming too close to the precipice.”
“Useless, as are all doctors — but here istruemedicine. A good cup of tea! Thank you, Mrs. Hill.”
The housekeeper smiled as she set down the tray with the tea things and nodded to both of them. “I am glad to see you in better spirits, Miss Lizzy.”
“Has it been so obvious?” Elizabeth shook her head.
Mrs. Hill smiled, and then said to Mrs. Gardiner, “It has been difficult for the young miss. First the master died and was replaced by that tightfisted clergyman who married Miss Jane. And then that difficulty with that unkempt man who wanted to marry her.”
“You mean Mr. Sykes?”
“A worse fellow I have never seen. He bothered the maids, and I was twice tempted to stab him, even if they’d hang me for it — it shocked me completely when he went away peacefully.”
“I believe,” Elizabeth said, “that he was rather frightened.”
“Is it true that Mr. Darcy challenged him to a duel?”
“Is that the rumour?” Elizabeth asked. “He certainly did not. At least not inmypresence.” Then after making a hmm sound, Elizabeth added, “Mr. Sykes feared that he would.”
