After a thorough ordeal of dressing and preparation, Elizabeth descended to breakfast.
And to her great delight, nearly as soon as she sat down to rolls, ham and eggs, Mr. Darcy arrived, along with Bingley and Robert.
Darcy looked at her with those serious eyes of his. He initially stepped towards her but then hesitated for a moment. There was something endearing about the way he looked almost unsure of himself.
However as soon as she rose and smiled at him, he immediately came around, greeted her with a smile, and a promise that she looked very well.
“Mrs. Bennet had me use her dressing table,” Elizabeth said cheerfully, and loud enough for that lady to hear. “It was most kind of her, and her advice upon the best arrangement of my hair was excellent.”
There. That was wholly unlike the sort of too sure of herself great lady that Lady Catherine played.
Bingley said, “Jane sends her good mornings, but she wished to help organize the plans for our party tomorrow with Mrs. North. We’ve gained a great many positive replies—the Lucases, the Gouldings, Mrs. Long, her nieces. The officers—more than enough persons for an excellent party.”
“Is Mr. Wickham still in the militia?” Darcy asked with a frown.
Papa set his newspaper down. “Don’t worry aboutthatfellow. He’d been accumulating debts at a terrible pace. No way could he pay them back. When the local tradesmen put this together, the haberdasher found out that his none-to-unwilling daughter had been engaged in an intrigue with Wickham. Taylor can be a frightening man with a gun, and so young Wickham was obliged to either marry the girl or decamp in the dead of night.”
“May I assume he absented himself?” Darcy asked.
“He left, like the winter chill.”
Robert laughed. “Wickham? I never liked him. He always smiled too much.”
This made Bingley laugh unexpectedly.
At being looked at by all the party, he made an ahem. “Merely reminded me of something.”
Mrs. Bennet inquired of Elizabeth if her Ladyship wished for any additional favor.
Sudden toadying behavior, simply because she was expected to be rich once the lawsuit completed. Lord! It made it hard for Elizabeth tonotbegin to act like Lady Catherine. It would be easy to reply in a high handed and demanding manner, always implying that she would provide some very great favor to Mrs. Bennet and her unmarried daughters if only she continued to tolerate it, and then always giving a little less than hoped for.
Perhaps her own manner to Mrs. Bennet when she had been frightened of her had brought out part of Mrs. Bennet’sbullying. She had acted as though she expected to be treated as nearly a servant, so of course everyone did so.
Except for Papa. And except for Mr. Darcy.
But maybe had Elizabeth been confident and smiling, instead of frightened and cringing, Mrs. Bennet would have automatically treated her with more kindness. She was not an ill hearted woman, not generally.
So much of their behavior had been a matter of choosing unspoken roles.
Elizabeth said to Darcy as they walked to the drawing room after the meal was finished, “I have now realized the truth in truism. A person’s manner and bearing often have a great effect upon the behavior of others towards them. Despite my enjoyment in watching different characters, I never knew how my own behavior likely changed how I am treated.”
He replied with a smile, “You are very likely to become strongly aware of such a thingnowas your behavior in this family has changed greatly from what it was merely a week ago.”
“It is so odd,” Elizabeth replied. “I feel strange, and as though I am being told to be a different person every time one of the servants, or Mrs. Bennet, calls me ‘Lady Elizabeth’.”
“Be yourself. When I see how you have behaved here, I think you are in fundamentals very much as you have always been. I do like to see you with greater confidence and assuredness.”
“The promise of forty thousand pounds must give anyone a great deal of confidence,” Elizabeth replied laughingly.
“No. That is not it. As I said, you have changed little in fundamentals, and I think what has given you the confidence chiefly is that you are not scared of the memory of your father.”
The morning was one of those perfect days in spring. Warm, but not uncomfortable, with a delightful breeze cooling them in the shade, and making the dappled lightpeeking through the leaves dance. Thick, overgrown grasses in profusion, dandelions and ladybirds everywhere.
Rather than exploring the neighborhood, they stayed about the vicinity of Longbourn so that Elizabeth could be easily called if Papa’s solicitor arrived during the morning, on the estate and in the village. They sat together on a garden swing, they watched the horses plowing, they visited the cats in the barn.
After a light luncheon, Elizabeth showed Mr. Darcy the library, and as Papa grinned at them both, she gave him a thorough tour of the shelves and chief points of interest in the collection.
This library was Elizabeth’s favorite place in all the world. It gave her a warm and cozy feeling. She had a blushing need to just look at him and feel girlishly happy. Mr. Darcy happily sat in one of the winged armchairs, sipping a steaming mug of tea, and he was suitably impressed by the collection that Papa had built. He loved her writing desk, and he liked the view of the little wilderness outside, with the garden swing visible to the side.
