Chapter 20 A Test of Fire

Christmas Eve at Longbourn struggled between feelings of grief and hope. The Gardiners arrived the day before from London, with Mr. Gardiner accompanying his wife, sister, and the widower Phillips to the grave of Magdalene Phillips to pay his respects. Elizabeth volunteered to stay behind with the Gardiner children and their nurse to see them properly settled into their room. In years past, the Christmas holiday was the one large reunion of the Gardiner children, as it was the only time of year Mr. Gardiner, an importer and exporter in London, could be assured of time away from his business. 

It was shortly after supper that her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner imparted the good news to Lizzy that her uncle’s business had taken a turn for the better. So much so, they planned a grand tour of the Lake District in the summer and invited her to attend.

“Yes, Simon is a capable lad, I taught him myself, you see? And Mr. Hobbs would never allow him to get into too much trouble,” Mr. Gardiner boasted of his new head clerk and how his long-time partner in his business could provide guidance.

Elizabeth was at a loss for words as her heart twisted most painfully for many reasons. She had not yet had the chance to tell her aunt and uncle about what transpired between herself and Mr. Darcy. Additionally, even after the visit of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, not all of her family knew of the expected proposal. She felt both silly and tempting fate to be so bold as her mother and lay it all out.

“Lizzy? I should have thought you to be delighted? With Jane marrying, you cannot expect things to be as they are now between you two. A long trip to the Lake District should be a jolly adventure for a young woman to look forward to,” Mrs. Gardiner advised.

Elizabeth nodded and sipped her cider, looking around the room for any rescue from her predicament. She never was one to lie convincingly, and of all people, her Aunt Gardiner would sniff out a half-truth before one regained their breath. Jane was busy entertaining Mr. Bingley with her mother in close earshot. Her father comforted Uncle Phillips with a game of backgammon, and Lydia and Kitty were nowhere to be found.

Instead, her savior came in a most unexpected form: her sister Mary.

“Since the fire, we’ve all learned the plans of the Almighty are not to be tested. Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away,” Mary said, solemnly.

The Gardiners accepted their most pious niece’s explanation for Lizzy’s reaction.

“Oh, my dear, how insensitive of me,” Aunt Gardiner scolded herself, then reached out to touch Elizabeth’s hand. 

Weakly, Elizabeth offered her a smile of understanding. “It is a most generous invitation, and I should love to go if circumstances permit. Tell me,” she said, willing to make a small risk of revealing her private business, “do you expect to travel through Derbyshire?”

“Derbyshire?” Uncle Gardiner repeated, with a grin and wink to his bride. “Indeed we plan to stop in Derbyshire! Why Lambton is where your aunt grew up and we should be the worst relations in the world if we did not stop for a visit.”

Mrs. Gardiner blushed as her husband lifted her hand to his lips. Elizabeth watched the exchange and sighed. She had forgotten one of the chief reasons she and her sister Jane enjoyed visiting with the Gardiners so much was their easy affection and regard for one another. 

“Lambton, I remember as a little girl you telling me about the place. What other villages are close by?” Elizabeth asked.

“My home village is equal distance between Matlock and Chatsworth, but the closest village and estate is the home of the Darcy family, at Pemberley.”

Elizabeth sputtered as she had tried to take a sip of cider while her aunt described the location. Recovering herself quickly, she felt relieved that she had not spilled any on her gown.

“Pemberley? As in Mr. Darcy’s home?”

Lydia and Kitty burst into the parlor in extravagant gowns and pieces of wardrobe borrowed without permission from Elizabeth and Jane. Skipping around the room, they threw dried flower petals and demanded the attention of everyone in the room. Still, Aunt Gardiner and Elizabeth tried to continue their conversation.

“Yes, the same. I hear the new Mr. Darcy is a fine gentleman.”

“A fine gentleman?” Elizabeth asked, unwilling to reveal she agreed with her aunt.

“Yes, from what I hear, he is a handsome and refined man.”

Lydia halted in front of her aunt, her eyes wide with delight.

“Oh, Lizzy knows Mr. Darcy is handsome. Mighty fine. She’s painted a miniature of him and keeps it at her bedside!” the youngest Bennet daughter exclaimed.

“Lydia!” Jane scolded and Mr. Bingley howled most ungentlemanly-like as the poor man was deep in his cups and drinking more.

“Hear, hear to Miss Elizabeth and my friend, Mr. Darcy! Where, where is the poor devil?” The very drunk Mr. Bingley looked around him as those who had also imbibed too much by this point agreed with him, and those still sober coughed with discomfort. 

Jane patiently reminded Mr. Bingley that Mr. Darcy was not scheduled to arrive for another five days. Amidst the cackles of merrymaking around her, Elizabeth closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. Since the visit by Lady Catherine de Bourgh, her father had not received a letter from Mr. Darcy. The man had written faithfully, twice per week. And now, there was a week of nothing. She tried to believe it was a case of mismanaged post, or a messenger’s horse gone lame.

“Well, he sure is missing a bloody good party!” Mr. Bingley shouted, receiving a rallying cheer from Mr. Bennet and Uncle Phillips, who had matched the gentleman in drinking.

“We are so blessed that Mr. Darcy likes Lizzy, I dare say she is not likely to capture the attention of a third gentleman,” Mrs. Bennet offered.

Elizabeth reddened deeper than a shade of tomato and felt tears pricking her eyes from her embarrassment. No one contradicted Mrs. Bennet’s swipe at her daughter, so Kitty took the opportunity and lull in conversation to clap her hands.

“We have prepared skits for you!” Kitty pronounced, nodding to Mary who reluctantly rose to play the piano.

The skits were bawdy and hilarious, making fun of a miserly character who had cheated the world for his purse and then when he fell on hard times, was offered no help. Between each girl and the few footmen they had enlisted to play their parts missing cues and forgetting their lines, everyone in the room had sides that ached from laughter. It became the perfect means by which Elizabeth found a way to leave and retire for the evening. 

Her bedroom lay in complete disarray as it appeared when her younger sisters rummaged for their costumes, they left nothing beneath consideration. Still, the room felt empty, lonely — two emotions Elizabeth felt a particular kinship. She often retired before the rest of her family, and certainly Jane. Despite the subtle snub of the Bennet family by Mr. Bingley’s sisters, who rarely came to call anymore, nothing appeared to make Mr. Bingley falter in his love for Jane. And so on evenings when he dined at Longbourn, he rarely left earlier than ten o’clock at night if he could at all help it. 

Songs of joy and shouts of laughter drifted upstairs and Elizabeth dashed across the room to close the door to the sounds of a revelry she could not join. She lit a candle and hastily searched the top drawer of the small table beside her bed. She discovered the miniature of the handsome man from Derbyshire remained unmolested by her sister, merely its existence exposed. Pulling the drawer completely out, she used her hand to reach in for the letter she kept hidden away, even from Jane.

Tracing his name at the end, she suddenly wished her father had given some of the letters that Mr. Darcy wrote, even though they contained nothing similar to the sentiments contained in his first letter.

The creaking of her door alerted Elizabeth that another had entered her room. Frantically, she tried to hide both items as she turned to see who disturbed her peace, and then relaxed when she saw that it was her Aunt Gardiner.

“Lizzy?” she asked, carefully approaching as her niece straightened her posture and set the letter and miniature on the bedside table. “Oh, Little Lizzy, you are wretched!” she sympathized and pulled the young woman nearly as tall as she was into a motherly embrace.

Sobs freely flowed as Elizabeth blubbered to her aunt bits and pieces of everything that had happened since the fire. Still, Mrs. Gardiner nodded often when she did not understand in the slightest, for fear that if she stopped Elizabeth in her tale, she would never hear the ending.

“And when he left that morning, I should have told him that I loved him.”

Mrs. Gardiner clucked her tongue. “But had you not asked him the day before for time?”

“Yes, but, I did not suspect that in being separated from him my feelings would undergo such a radical transformation! He was supposed to stay and we would court each other, like Jane and Mr. Bingley.”

Mrs. Gardiner pressed her lips into a thin line of disapproval. “Let’s not wish that you had conducted your affairs in the order in which Jane and Mr. Bingley have,” she said.

Elizabeth blinked in confusion. No one had dared to say a word about Jane’s brazen behavior with Mr. Bingley. It was a shock to hear her aunt even slightly condemn their attachment.

“I let him leave, and now, what if he never comes back?” she asked, utterly distracted by her emotions for Mr. Darcy.

Mrs. Gardiner sat down on Elizabeth’s bed and patted the side so her niece would join her.

“Let’s begin with your speech at the church. I think the two of you showed good judgment. Your letters to me reeked of suffering for the loss of your friend and all of the pains of your recovery. You were honest that you needed time, you did not feel as you do now four weeks ago. And Mr. Darcy,” she said.

“Yes?” Elizabeth sniffed, wishing to not cry any more tears.

“Lizzy, Mr. Darcy is a gentleman. He is a man who will have to answer to his own conscience in all actions. He likely struggled with fulfilling your wishes after such a request as you had made of him. Perhaps he believed his feelings would not have allowed him to remain close to you without placing undue expectations on your recuperation. I do not believe he had an easy decision. But if I had been able to advise him, I should have told him the decision to leave was wisest.”

“Wisest? However so?”

Mrs. Gardiner squeezed her niece with a tight embrace, delighting in the complete absence of Elizabeth’s normal logic and sense. “Poets for millennia have told us again and again,” she answered.

Elizabeth scowled as her thoughts and feelings were far too jumbled for her to play guessing games.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

Mrs. Gardiner gently rubbed Elizabeth’s upper back and offered to undo the buttons on the back of her gown so she did not have to call a maid. Elizabeth allowed her aunt’s care to soothe the aching beast of a heart that pumped furiously in her chest.

Before her aunt was to leave her, and after she accepted her wishes for a good night’s rest, Elizabeth shared the one last part that still tormented her mind.

“But Aunt, what if he never returns?” she asked in a small voice.

Mrs. Gardiner laughed at her niece’s silly worry. 

“My dear, you know where he lives. If he never returns, I’ll take you to Pemberley myself to demand satisfaction.”