Page 31 of Time Stands Still

Elizabeth met her uncle’s concerned gaze without flinching. “I am certain, Uncle,” she said, her voice firm and clear. “My initial opinion of Mr. Darcy was formed on prejudice and misinformation. When we met again in Kent, we… quarrelled. I accused him of several wrongs, and in his answers, I began to see that I had judged him unfairly on almost every point. In the days that followed, I saw his true character revealed. I saw him as a master to his tenants, as a brother to his sister, as a guardian to his cousin. I saw him defend me, and his own principles, in the face of the most appalling pressure from his family.” She took a deep breath, the sincerity of her feelings lending her courage. “He is a good and honourable man, Uncle. The more I have learned of him, the more my feelings have… changed. I do not merely esteem him. I love him. With all my heart.”

The sincerity in her voice was undeniable. A slow smile broke across Mr. Gardiner’s face, chasing away the last of his worry. “Then I am satisfied,” he said, his relief palpable. “A man who can own his faults and amend his conduct is a man of true worth. And your own happiness is, and has always been, our chief desire for you.” He took her hand. “I have given him my conditional approval, as your guardian here in town. But you know, my dear, that the final word must, and should, come from your father. Mr. Darcy understands this completely and has agreed to travel to Longbourn with you and Jane next week to speak with him.”

That night, her heart full with her uncle’s blessing, Elizabeth had just begun to prepare for bed when a soft knock came at her door. It was Jane, her expression a mixture of joy and loving bewilderment.

“Oh, Lizzy,” she began, taking her sister’s hands as she entered the room. “I am so happy for you, truly I am. But I must confess my astonishment. Engaged to Mr. Darcy! When last we spoke of him, you held him in such low esteem. Are you certain? Tell me everything. What has happened in Kent to bring about such a change?”

Elizabeth smiled, a genuine, untroubled smile. “The very question my uncle asked of me. And I shall give you the same answer. I was mistaken in him, Jane. My opinion was formed on little more than prejudice and wounded pride. When we met again in Kent, we… quarrelled. I spoke my mind, perhaps too freely, and he, in turn, revealed a truth to matters I had wholly misunderstood.” She paused, thinking of Wickham, and of Darcy’s role in Bingley’s departure. The latter she would address, but the former could wait for another time. “He then set about to prove my accusations false, not by words, but by his conduct. He showed me a side of his character I had never suspected. I saw him with his aunt's tenants, Jane, showing a care and responsibility that spoke of true stewardship. I saw him with his cousins, a man of deep loyalty and affection. In short, he changed my mind entirely. I believe him to be the best man I have ever known.”

Finally, Elizabeth took a breath and confessed the last part of the story. “Jane,” she began, her voice low, “there is more. The reason for my initial anger towards Mr. Darcy was, in large part, on your account. It was he who persuaded Mr. Bingley to leave Netherfield.”

She watched her sister’s face, prepared for a look of pain. Instead, she saw only a quiet, thoughtful melancholy.

“Do not trouble yourself on my account, Lizzy,” Jane said, her voice soft, but with a new firmness. “My time in London has been… instructive.”

“Instructive?” Elizabeth prompted, curious.

“Yes,” Jane affirmed, her gaze distant for a moment. “When I first came to town, I wrote to Miss Bingley to inform her of my arrival, hoping to renew our acquaintance. No response came. It was only then, after a week of waiting, that I resolved to call upon her myself.”

Jane paused, a shadow of the memory crossing her features. “I was made to wait a quarter of an hour in a cold parlour before she appeared, already in her bonnet and gloves, making it clear my visit was an interruption. Her greeting was civil, but so distant it was a physical chill. When I inquired after my letter, she claimed it had never been received, which I found strange, as I sent it by the quickest post. When I at last summoned the courage to inquire after her brother, she answered that he was well, and much in company with a great many fashionable people, including a Miss Marlowe, a lady of great fortune and accomplishment. It was an unspoken message, Lizzy. That her brother was moving in a world to which I did not belong.”

“How horrid of her!” Elizabeth exclaimed, her indignation rising on her sister’s behalf.

“It was cruel, yes,” Jane replied, her voice quiet but clear. “But it was also a gift. It made me see not only her character, but Mr. Bingley’s as well. A man of true regard would not be so easily swayed by his sister or his friend. What is the worth of a good nature if it is not accompanied by a strength of mind? A man who can be persuaded to abandon another without a word of explanation is not a man with whom I could ever find true happiness.”

Jane met Elizabeth’s gaze, her own eyes clear and calm, free from any trace of heartache. “My heart was touched, yes. But it was not broken. And I have learned what I truly require in a partner: a man of resolve, who knows his own mind, and who is not afraid to act upon his own heart. I find my heart is entirely my own again.”

Elizabeth looked at her sister, at the serene strength in her lovely face, and felt a profound sense of peace settle over her. Jane was free. She was whole. And in seeing her so, Elizabeth felt the last shadow of Hunsford finally lift, leaving only the bright promise of the future.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The following morning brought a visitor to Gracechurch Street who was so entirely unexpected that Elizabeth could only stare in stunned disbelief. Darcy had arrived for his morning call, but he was not alone. At his side, looking both nervous and deeply hopeful, was Mr. Bingley, his usual beaming countenance subdued by an air of anxious anticipation.

Elizabeth’s eyes flew at once to Jane, who had risen with a polite, if somewhat cool, composure. From the corner of her eye, she saw Darcy watching the scene with a quiet, anxious intensity. He had clearly fulfilled his promise to his friend, confessing his part in the affair and encouraging Bingley to return. What he did not know, however, was that the Jane who stood before them was not the same woman who had left Netherfield with a wounded heart.

“Miss Bennet,” Mr. Bingley began, his address directed solely to Jane, his gaze full of an eager and earnest affection that seemed to plead for forgiveness. “I was so very glad to hear from Darcy that you were in town. I had hoped I might have the pleasure of calling upon you.”

“You are very good, sir,” Jane replied, her voice perfectly civil, but lacking its usual warmth. She gestured to a seat, though her posture remained one of polite distance, her hands clasped lightly before her.

Mr. Bingley’s hopeful expression faltered significantly at the coolness of her greeting. He sat, fidgeting with his hands. “Had I known you were in London, Miss Bennet,” he began again, his tone earnest and apologetic, “I should have called on you a great deal sooner. Indeed, I would have hastened from wherever I was, the moment I learned of your presence.”

A flicker of some unreadable emotion, perhaps a ghost of her former tenderness, quickly suppressed, crossed Jane’s face, but her voice was perfectly steady. “I did call upon Miss Bingley, when I first arrived, sir.”

The effect of this statement upon Mr. Bingley was immediate and profound. His face fell, a look of genuine hurt and confusion replacing his hopeful smile. He turned a bewildered gaze upon Darcy, a silent, pained question in his eyes, as if seeking an explanation for his sister’s failure to inform him of the visit. Darcy, for his part, offered only a slight, regretful shrug.

An awkward silence descended, broken finally by Jane herself. She looked at Mr. Bingley, her expression composed, but her eyes holding a distant sort of sorrow, as if she mourned a dream that could never be. “And do you mean to return to Netherfield, sir?” she inquired, her voice even, almost dispassionate.

Mr. Bingley started, clearly surprised by the directness of the question. He looked at her, his gaze full of a renewed, desperate hope, clinging to the possibility that this was merely a test. “I… I have not yet decided,” he stammered, his words rushed. “My plans are at present… unsettled. I confess, Miss Bennet, my heart has been unsettled since I left Hertfordshire.” His eyes pleaded with her to understand his unspoken meaning, to read the longing there.

A sad smile touched Jane’s lips, though it did not reach her eyes. “For the sake of the neighbourhood, and indeed, for your own peace of mind, I think it would be best if you gave up the lease entirely,” she said, her voice gentle, yet carrying a weight of absolute finality. “Meryton has been quite without a resident of Netherfield for long enough. It would be a kindness to allow another family the opportunity to settle there, and perhaps find the happiness that was denied to others.”

The last of the hope in Mr. Bingley’s eyes died, extinguished by her quiet pronouncement. He stared at her, his face a mask of disbelief and profound disappointment. He could not mistake her meaning now.

With Jane's quiet pronouncement still hanging in the air, a silent testament to a love irrevocably lost, Mr. Bingley rose to take his leave, casting one last, bewildered look at Jane, who offered him a small, polite, and altogether dismissive nod. His shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly as he gave a formal bow and quit the room, his cheerful light utterly dimmed.

When he was gone, a strained silence fell. Darcy looked at Elizabeth, a question in his eyes. She gave him a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head, a silent communication that this was a matter for another time, another conversation. To his credit, he did not press the point, but gracefully changed the subject, turning to Mrs. Gardiner.

“As the day is so fine, madam,” he said, “I had hoped I might persuade Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth to allow us to accompany them on a walk. My sister is in town and is most eager to make their acquaintance.”