Page 6 of Searching for Elizabeth
Wherever she was.
In themorning, feeling exhausted from so many hours of anxiety and so few minutes of sleep, Darcy rode hardacrossthe fields, and as he returned to the house, hedecided to strategize his search.
He thought hehad been lied to yesterday at Longbourn.Or at least, he thought,critical information hasbeen withheld. Giventhat, he was not positive it was a great idea to visit today in the same polite this-is-just-an-ordinary-call manner.
It might, however, bewiseto find a way to talk to each person in the Bennet household separately. He remembered that he had not seen Mary yesterday, and he thought she was the best candidate for information about Elizabeth. He wrote her name at the top of his list.
As he wrote each of the other Bennets’ names, Darcy considered each one.Jane had been crying, he was sure of it, and she had looked guilty or ashamed of something. Lydia was very young but bold and outspoken; she mighttell truths with little urging.Kitty was quieter and gigglier than any of the otherdaughters. Mr. Bennet had seemed appreciative that Darcy shared so much of his family’s private matters in order to warn him about Wickham; also, Mr. Bennet had not displayed any tell-tale signs of lying when he had said that Elizabeth was living with her aunt in Meryton—
Suddenly, Darcy remembered that Elizabeth had another aunt, one she had seemed very close to. That uncle and aunt were in trade, and they lived in London.Where?Darcy asked himself. He pictured the Netherfield drawing room whereMiss Bingleyhadmocked theBennets behind their back. Ah! She had said they lived in Cheapside, within sight of the uncle’s warehouses. Someone had said the name Gracechurch Street. Darcy wrote down everything he remembered, which unfortunately did not include the aunt and uncle’s surname.
Mrs. Bennet seemed to be the worst of the lot. Darcy would not be surprised to find out that she had deliberately lied, at least by omission, andhe wondered ifshe would try torequirethe entire family to back her lies.He sensed that Elizabeth’smother was not all that concerned about his beloved’s well-being.
Damnation!
The servants of Longbourn were almost certain to know why there had been such a hubbub there yesterday. Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper, had a kindly look to her face, and Darcy remembered several weeks ago hearing that her husband was a sort of man-of-all-work who the Netherfield steward asked to fix a spit jack. If there was a lady’s maid—or two or three! there were a lot of ladies!—she would be likely to know quite a lot. Darcy had dealt with two different men and a young boy in Longbourn’s stables.He knew that manyservants are reluctant to gossip about the familywhoemployedthem,especially to strangers, but servants almost always knew a lot.
Itmightbe good to call on Mr. and Mrs. Phillips. Yesterday, it hadseemed clear that Mrs. Phillips had truly not known anything about what had transpired at Longbourn, but he had also seen herrunout of her house, no doubt intending to find out. But would she sharethe correctinformation, or would she participate with whatever lie or concealment Mrs. Bennet was perpetrating?
Darcy had another brainstorm. How many times had he observed Elizabeth enter a group of people and headdirectlyto Charlotte Lucas? Obviously, the two were friends. Miss Lucas’s name went on the list.
More chats with merchants and tenants might also turn up something. However, he could not blunderaroundasking about Miss Elizabeth to all and sundry. Doing so would inevitably start rumors. Even if he was eager to marry Elizabeth, shoulditbenecessary to save her reputation, she would not thank him for being the person who ruined it!
Suddenly,a thought roseupthat felt very upsetting toDarcy. He could not help but shake his head as heremembered yet another family member he could question:
The night of the ball at Netherfield—was it really just two nights ago??—one of Elizabeth’s cousins had introduced himself to Darcy. His name was…Mr. Collins, and he was Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s parson; he claimed hewould inherit Longbourn after Mr. Bennet’s death. Mr. Collins had been thrilled to realize that Darcy was the nephew of his patroness, but his fawning manner had disconcerted Darcy as much as had hisfaux paswith the self-introduction.
During the ball, he had noticed that the Collins fellow had seemed strangely possessive about Elizabeth. Now, thinking about yesterday’s upset at Longbourn, Darcy had the awful feeling that the parson had meant to propose to Elizabeth. Darcy did not think Elizabeth would accept an offer of marriage from him, and he rather thought that her father might not give his permission, either, because Mr. Collins had seemed to be quite…ignorant, perhaps even unintelligent. And cleanliness was not something he seemed to care about; Darcy remembered the stains on his pastor’s frock, and he had noticed distinct odors as the man tried to give him news about his aunt.
Somehow, the thought that Miss Elizabeth’s mysterious whereabouts might have something to do with Mr. Collins made Darcy’s blood run cold.
He looked at his long, long list of possible people to talk to.Oh, good, he thought,something I am really good at.
On the other hand, there was something Darcy was good at: delegation.
Orderinga lunch tray and a pot of coffee brought up, he began to write some messages to send express, to London, and other messages to send by servant, in Meryton. He promised himself a nice long nap after his letters were finished.
Chapter 7: Elizabeth
—afternoon—
Elizabeth Bennet ate only a small luncheon, because she did not feel secure that her food supply could be easily replenished. Mary had reluctantly returned to Longbourn, and it was time,Lizzythought, to get down to all the various kinds of work her mother would loudly disdain: housework, authorial work, and financial work.
As she cleaned her utensils and dishes, wiped the small counter and table, and swept the floor,Lizzycontemplated the news from Longbourn. Surprisingly, the news that took up most of her time and attention was the fact that Mr. Darcy had called onher.
She found herself carefully considering and reconsidering Mr. Darcy. It was clear to her that she had misunderstood his character, and Mr. Wickham’s as well. Having accepted that, several inconsistencies were explained, Mr. Darcy’s habit of staring atLizzywas re-evaluated, and Mr. Wickham’s sharing of private affairs after so short an acquaintance was noticed. In other words, many things fell into place that she had somehow swept from her mind in her determination to think well of one man and poorly of the other.
Lizzyfelt a tremor of disgust at her own prejudice. And, yes, at her own pride. She had mentally pegged Mr. Darcy as being too full of pride, but now she realized that, although that might be an accurate count against him, it surely was a count against her as well.
Rethinking her history with Mr. Darcy, Lizzy realized something she had apparently deliberately squished downinside: she realized how much enjoyment she had taken in sparring with the man. She realized that he had truly listened to the things she had said,and he hadshowngenuine interest in what she hadto say on any and every topic broached.Even when he had disagreed with her, he had done so in a way that acknowledged her right to hold an opinion. This was starkly in contrast withMr. Collins, whoappearedto feel that her ideas could not have any more importance than those of Sootsuit, the Bennets’ stableyard cat.
Sinking down into one of her chairs,she realized that she was blushing, even though there was nobodythereto see. She held her hands to her warming cheeks, wondering,Do I like Mr. Darcy?
There was no question that she had alwaysviewedhim as the most handsome man she had ever seen. Her two youngest sisters often twittered and giggled about how exceedingly handsome Mr. Wickham was,butLizzypreferred Mr. Darcy’s sharper features andreserved mannersover Mr.Wickham’s pretty faceand overtly flirtatious style. When she first met him, Mr. Wickham had sounded quite open about his life, his likes, and his very strong feelings about her; but as time passed, and as she overheard Mr. Wickham address other young women, and as she heard the effusions of others about what he had said tothem, she quickly realized that hetalkedto every woman as if she was the only woman he saw.
Lizzy had always known that she appreciated Mr. Darcy’s intelligence, too. When she referenced ideas from Greek philosophers or some insight on party politics gleaned from Horace Walpole’s writings, she noticed that other people’s eyes glazed over, but Mr. Darcy’s eyes sharpened, and the corners of his mouth often twitched into an enigmatic smile; he aloneseemed to appreciate literary allusions or complex, nuanced ideas. Mr. Bingley had made at least three compliments ofLizzy’s intelligence that tipped her off that he sometimes felt unnerved by her conversation, but Mr. Darcy showed no sign of distress in dealing with a quick-witted woman.
Eventually, Lizzy stopped cycling around these thoughts, and she decided to just face the fact that she did, in fact, like Mr. Darcy far more than she had admitted, even to herself.So be it, she thought.
