“I donotblame you in the least. This is entirely my own doing. Instead of spending the hours in a sensible manner, resting and regrouping for the next day—something inside me insists on playing out in my mind many happy but also unhappy scenarios involving you. It is my fault—or perhaps Lord Byron had the right of it, and being in love is as filled with yearning and melancholy as it is with ecstasy.”
“Lord Byron writes of fleeting passion and broken promises.” Now Elizabeth’s voice was downright fiery. “If that is the sort of love you anticipate, you should slink off, far away from me, and start your brooding. I seek constancy and—as I already clearly stated—vows that are kept, promises that are sacred.”
Darcy reached for her arm but thought better of his impulse. He stopped, his hand still awkwardly grasping at air, and he hurried to say, “Miss Elizabeth, I implore you to listen with your heart as well as your ears.” He brought the hand down and gently stroked her gloved hand with the backs of his gloved fingers. “Constancy, vows kept—that is exactly what I seek, as well. I have never been in love before, and I feel in my bones that I will never be in love again. I am perfectly certain that I offer constancy. However, I have not fooled myself into imagining that you are in love with me. Hence my tossing and turning.”
“Oh.”
Elizabeth looked embarrassed. There was quite a long silence, and she finally mumbled, “I am sorry.”
“One thing I have wondered, Miss Elizabeth, is the date of your birthday. When will you be one and twenty?”
“The sixteenth of March.”
“Four months from now!”
“That is not so long.”
“It feels long. It has been four months since Ramsgate, and Georgiana has only recovered a little. I almost feel as if her unhappiness has lasted years.”
“I am so sorry. But….”
“But?” Darcy tried to catch her eyes, but she was looking down, and her mouth seemed set in a serious line.
Suddenly she looked up with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in her eye. “I am beginning to come up with a plan, sir. But in order to fully craft a successful plan, I need to understand your life better. I wish to know all about what you do, day in and day out. When you are at Pemberley, when you are in Town, and if you regularly travel elsewhere, tell me of that as well. If you see me being Mrs Darcy someday, then I wish to know all aboutyoureveryday life.”
“What Ido, you said. Not how large Pemberley is, not how much pin money you will have…but whatIdo with my days and nights?”
She nodded, looking eager.
It was, Darcy was surprised to realise, a singular request. Not even Bingley had ever asked such a thing. But he began to talk, and he spoke of solving tenant problems, planning the year’s planting, rewarding his tenants with a Harvest Ball, consulting with others on investments, inspecting his properties, meeting with other homeowners…. At some point, Elizabeth led him back to where Atlas waited and then guided them back to the placewhere they must separate to their own separate residences. She said, “Thank you for what you have told me, so far. I look forward to hearing more, perhaps when you call on me.”
The next few days, even when sitting in Longbourn’s parlour with Mr Goulding, Elizabeth encouraged Darcy to tell more of his everyday life and concerns. She urged him on with questions, and even he was shocked at how many different sorts of work he did. From extensive reading and correspondence to face-to-face meetings and personal inspections, he was deeply concerned with crops and animal breeding, and he was also responsible for several small mines and sawmills. He held the power of dozens of family livings in as many parishes. His engagements included patronage of several artists, multiple inventors, and one natural philosopher, and his avocations included fencing and riding.
“I know you are not sleeping much these days,” Elizabeth murmured during one visit, “but I am shocked you haveanytime to sleep at all!”
Mr Goulding had leant forward to catch her words, and he looked startled. “You are not able to sleep?” he asked Darcy.
“Of course I sleep some,” he replied. “I probably get close to four hours per night, but the sleep is highly fragmented.”
“Sir, that is dreadful! I get eight to nine hours of sleep per night, in just two phases, as is recommended.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Nine! Very impressive, sir. You have done more than twice as well as Mr Darcy.”
Mr Goulding looked smug at her comment. Darcy smiled, considering how sweetly Elizabeth wielded set-downs and how gently she issued teasing critiques. In this case, there was not the smallest amount of sarcasm in her tone, but if the Goulding fellow had bothered to study her eyes, he would have seen laughter there.
Upon further thought, Darcy decided that Elizabeth seemed to feel more free to show her dismay or anger to him than tomany others, and the thought pleased him mightily. He would far rather hear and see her true thoughts than to hear only what is polite or agreeable.
At long last, Elizabeth seemed to find no more questions about his many and varied responsibilities and pursuits. Darcy wondered if she was ready to share this plan she had supposedly been crafting.
“I am interested in the kinds of trees you have here at Longbourn,” Darcy said. “I wonder if anyone would like to accompany me as I do a rough count of the ash, birch, and beech trees.”
“We have far more English oak trees than any other kind,” Elizabeth said.
“I have seen that. I was hoping to understand the numbers of the less populous trees.”
“I would be happy to walk with you,” Elizabeth said.
The invitation to walk was extended to all the others. Mr Goulding excused himself and went home, Bingley and Miss Bennet said they wished to walk but not count trees, and everyone else expressed a desire to stay indoors.
