Abigail Reynolds - To Conquer Mr. Darcy

Her own feelings were less a mystery to her. She was complimented, to be certain, that he apparently valued her opinion to the extent of heeding her reproofs and altering his behavior, but she had previously felt no desire to see him again. But was his steadfastness a reason to change her estimation of him? There was so much that remained unknown. She resolved to think no more about him until she had a better sense of his intentions, but this resolution proved difficult to maintain for more than a short time at best, as thoughts of him kept intruding at odd moments.

She did not expect to see him again until Tuesday, when he and Bingley were engaged to dine with them, but was unsurprised when two days later he rode up to her as she was walking through the countryside. As she saw him approach, unable to avoid noticing the fine figure he cut on horseback, she resolved to meet him with composure and civility for Jane’s sake, but found her pulses racing as he swung off his horse and drew near her.

“Mr. Darcy,” she murmured as he bowed.

“Miss Bennet, this is indeed a fortuitous meeting. I was just thinking of consulting with you on a certain matter.”

She smiled playfully. “One can hardly call it fortuitous, sir, to encounter me on a ramble on such a fine day as this one. It is more a foregone conclusion, I would say.”

From the brief look that passed over his face, her attempt at light-hearted conversation had hit an unintended mark. She wondered whether he had indeed been looking for an opportunity to encounter her alone, and was conscious that her cheeks were warm.

“It does seem that we both have a propensity to enjoy the air. May I join you?”

“If you indeed wish to consult with me, it would seem a wise idea,” she said gravely.

He glanced down at her, noting that she had neatly avoided stating an opinion on his presence, and wondering whether it was mere politeness that precluded her from refusing his company. The wrenching sensation this thought caused was almost enough to lead him to abandon the effort, but he forcefully reminded himself of his intention to show her that he had changed.

“I wished to speak with you regarding my sister,” he said stiffly. “As I mentioned, she is anxious to make your acquaintance, but I am reluctant to bring her to Longbourn to make the introduction, as I am concerned she would find the situation difficult to manage.”

Elizabeth felt a swell of disappointment. I should have known better than to think he would truly change, she thought. He does not wish to expose his sister to the defects of my family and our intolerable social connections. “Indeed, Mr. Darcy, I can suppose that she, like some others, might find me more appealing in the absence of my family,” she said tartly.

Darcy turned to her in obvious distress. “Miss Bennet, I fear you have mistaken my meaning. I hope that Georgiana will meet your family very soon.” Aware that he was stumbling badly in his attempt to convey himself, and fearing that he had already lost any ground he might have gained, he said, “May I speak frankly, Miss Bennet?”

“You may be as frank as you please, Mr. Darcy; I doubt that there can be worse than what I have already heard in the past,” she said, growing more heated by the minute.

Darcy cursed himself silently. “Miss Bennet, I do not deny that I richly deserve your reproaches for what I have said in the past,” he said with all the humility he could muster. “But I beg of you to listen to what I am saying now. My sister is quite painfully shy. She finds it extremely difficult to speak with people she does not know, and is accustomed to a very quiet life. If I were to bring her to Longbourn, or any other household full of unknown lively people who are unafraid to speak their minds, I can guarantee she would be unable to say a word, and would leave convinced of everyone’s dislike of her. I very much would like her to come to know you, but I cannot see any way to accomplish this unless I can find a more quiet setting for you to become acquainted.” He forced himself to pause, aware that his words were rushing out of him with some desperation.

Her silence told him he had failed, and that his hopes of forgiveness were in vain. Sick at heart, he said, “I apologize, Miss Bennet, for my clumsy words. I have obviously made a misjudgment in broaching this matter. I assure you that no offense was intended, and I am sorry to have caused you any distress. I shall no longer disrupt your morning; please be assured that I shall not trouble you again.” With a formal bow, he turned to leave.

Elizabeth was heartily ashamed of herself. To have jumped to such a conclusion could perhaps be understood, but to not allow the poor man a chance to explain himself before she began abusing him yet again—had she not learned anything from that humiliating experience at Hunsford? Was she forever to be mistaking this man? “Mr. Darcy,” she said quietly, her eyes on the ground, “I am the one who needs to apologize, for the misjudgment was mine. I arrived at an unwarranted conclusion and should not have said what I did. If you are still willing, I would like to hear what you have to say.”

Elizabeth could not bring herself to look up, but had she done so, she would have seen Darcy stop at her words, and a look of great relief come over his face. He took a moment to collect himself, and then said, “I would like that as well, Miss Bennet.”

“Perhaps you could tell me in the kind of setting Miss Darcy is most likely to be comfortable with,” Elizabeth said in a somewhat subdued voice as they began to walk again.

“I hoped you might be willing to meet her at Netherfield,” he said tentatively. “Then, perhaps, once she knows you better, I could bring her to Longbourn.”

“I would be happy to come to Netherfield, sir. Would you care to suggest a convenient time?” Elizabeth’s eyes were still downcast.

“Miss Bennet,” said Darcy in a tone of emotion. “At the moment I would rather say how sorry I am to have distressed you, and to ask if there is anything I can do to relieve your discomfort.”

Elizabeth looked up at him with a hint of a smile. “Your aunt, Lady Catherine, condescended to tell me on several occasions that I would never play the pianoforte really well unless I practiced more. By that measure, I must be developing true virtuosity in the art of feeling ashamed of things I have said to you, since I have had a great deal of practice at it.”

“The difference, perhaps, being that I derive a great deal of pleasure in listening to you play pianoforte, and I would not have you berate yourself, especially since your response was understandable given the insufferable things I have said to you in the past. I have acknowledged to myself the truth of the reproofs you made in April and I have attempted to attend to those matters, but I realize you have no cause to believe that as yet.”

Elizabeth could not begin to imagine how much those words must have cost a man of such pride. “There was also a great deal of untruth in the accusations I made that day, though I did not realize it at the time. I should apologize to you for believing without question the falsehoods of Mr. Wickham. Ever since reading your letter, I have felt ashamed of my lack of discernment.”

“Mr. Wickham’s manners can be most persuasive when he so chooses. Had I told you immediately upon seeing him in Meryton what I knew of his past, the situation would not have arisen, but since I thought it beneath me to lay my private actions open to the world, I have no one to blame but myself for your misunderstanding.”

“Sir, you are very harsh upon yourself, and seem to expect me to take no responsibility at all for making misjudgments of my own.”

“Have I not reason to be harsh upon myself? Since you are apologizing for what you see as your errors, should I not express regret for my abominable condescension and ungentleman-like behavior? I do not do so, Miss Bennet, not because I do not believe there to be cause, but because I do not believe any apology to be within my power, other than to demonstrate that I have seen the error of my ways.”