Page 60 of Conundrums & Coincidences

“You will be a magnificent mistress of Pemberley.” He wanted to say more, about what a loving wife and mother she would be, but such thoughts of her in those roles incited ungentlemanly passions. Instead, Darcy merely patted Elizabeth’s hand and said he did not deserve her.

“I once tried to emulate my friend Charlotte, who is more than five years my senior and a very sensible woman. She shares many of Aunt Gardiner’s good qualities.”

Many, not all. Mrs Collins, Darcy suspected, supported her husband; but theirs was not a grand love. Not like ours.

“Charlotte thinks I am too much of an incurable romantic to practise prudence.”

They had strolled as far as the barn, and a tabby cat came trotting out to greet them. “Good day, Abby.” Crouching, Elizabeth cooed at it, stroked its head, and scratched beneath its chin. The cat purred loudly, then was gone in a flash, chasing two brimstone butterflies.

Hand upon Darcy’s arm again, Elizabeth suggested they walk towards the meadow. “To continue what I was saying, Miss Bingley and her ilk might not approve of my Gardiner relations, but I never thought of my aunt and uncle as anything other than ladylike and gentlemanlike, although neither is of gentle birth. And think what you will of my mother, sir, but she taught me about housekeeping, setting a fine table…and catching an eligible gentleman.” Elizabeth grinned at him. “Mama is inordinately proud of me, for I have caught the very best. And I love him so.”

“I return your love tenfold.” Longing to kiss her but noticing her bootlace was untied, Darcy bent down on one knee to secure the lace in a double knot. “Since you are such an incurable romantic, I suppose I, like a medieval knight, should have proposed to you on bended knee as a sign of allegiance to a superior. But I am no sentimental noddy, Elizabeth. In fact, if I remember correctly, my second proposal was a rather curt ‘marry me’. But I do promise you my respect, fidelity, and everlasting devotion.”

Standing tall then, he shook his head. “I fail to understand how a man is supposed to gain experience in offering marriage. Practice makes perfect, they say, but if he has chosen well, he should have to make a proposal only the once. Or twice.”

“What could be more clearly expressed than ‘marry me’ or ‘I love you’? Succinctness, at times, has its own charm.”

“Do you have suggestions for how one might go about speaking to your youngest sister? I wish to apologise to Miss Lydia for her removal from Brighton, although I firmly believe it was done for the best.”

“I wish you success in trying to talk any sense into that girl.” Stopping at the edge of the meadow, where farm horses grazed and clumps of tall Timothy grass grew, she plucked a stem from the ground, pulled seeds from the long, cylindrical flower heads, and released them to the breeze. “Might your sister also be willing to speak to Lydia?”

“About Wickham? Certainly not!”

“Who better to make Lydia understand the danger she faced than a young lady of similar age who suffered at the hands of that ne’er-do-well? They are to be sisters, after all.”

That gave him pause. “You are correct, and your wish is my command. I shall ask Georgiana whether she might be willing. Shall we return to the house now? Bingley and Hadley are there.”

“Mr Bingley and Mr Hadley? Yes! It will be wonderful to see both of them.”

You were not so enthusiastic about my arrival.

“I never mentioned it before, but I think those two share certain similarities. Do you not agree?”

“Yes, clever lady. Their mothers were sisters.”

They returned to the house, where Darcy was pleased to see his sister sitting and chatting with Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Mary, and Bingley. Their mother was nowhere to be seen. Nor was Hadley.

At an opportune moment, he took Georgiana aside to quietly make the necessary enquiry, and, to his utter astonishment, she readily agreed.

“Where is Hadley?”

“He saw you and Miss Elizabeth through the window and went out to the lawn.”

So, to the lawn went Darcy and the two most important ladies in his life. There, they joined Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia, and introductions were made.

“I thought Hadley was out here,” said Darcy.

“Oh, he was.” Miss Catherine had either caught too much sun or was blushing. “Mr Hadley spotted you and Lizzy walking towards the house and thought you were ready to leave. You just missed him. He must have gone round the other way.”

Between Georgiana and Miss Lydia there ensued so much of friendliness, of flattery, of everything warm, and of so many polysyllabic words from his sister that Darcy had to give Georgiana a discreet nudge.

“Miss Lydia,” she said, reminded of her mission, “I noticed a pretty little tangled garden on one side of your lawn, and my brother and I should like to take a turn about it, if you will accompany us.”

As the three walked towards the little wilderness, the youngest Bennet linked arms with her new friend but frequently looked back towards the lawn. “Where did Lizzy and Kitty go? No matter. There really is nothing special to see in this neglected garden but… Oh, look!”

On one side of the garden was an overgrown jumble of bramble thickets, vines, and bracken. Against a crumbling wall, fragrant, sprawling rose bushes ran wild over everything in their path. The gurgle of a spring could be heard; and amidst the wildness, in a little clearing, stood a massive willow with branches trailing to the ground. From a nest somewhere above, within the gnarled crooks of its branches, hatchling robins chirped, begging to be fed.

“Mother Nature has prevailed here, but someone has been busy. See? Flowers have been planted in the tree stumps over there. Perhaps it was Kitty. She told me she had taken up gardening again.” Dropping onto a weathered, splintering wooden bench, Miss Lydia beckoned Georgiana to join her.