Chapter 1-4 Happy Was The Day

Less than twelve hours later, Mr. Darcy wished his friend had sustained slightly more serious injuries as he observed his carefree friend enjoying the company of Miss Bennet near the fire. His own interview with Mr. Bennet concluded more than a half-hour ago, and his intended still had not rejoined the party. 

Darcy began to worry. How it was the man who could not be bothered to visit Netherfield Park on behalf of the eldest daughter’s suitor could hold such concern over his second daughter baffled Mr. Darcy’s senses. Judging by his rather rude response when Darcy confessed he not only loved Elizabeth but had secured her consent to marry, there lay irrefutable proof that the man had not expected a better match than Mr. Collins to save his family after his demise. Mr. Bennet, after all, possessed no son to inherit.

“It is your turn again, sir,” Kitty Bennet said, with a small cough she did her best to muffle.

“Forgive me, I was not attending,” Darcy said, as he played a jack and gave the count. “Twenty-two.”

Kitty giggled. “I’ll take the two you don’t want,” she said cheekily, moving her peg ahead.

Mr. Darcy gaped at the pile and sure enough, he had played his knave upon hers, and not moved his peg quick enough.

“How did you come to learn this game? I suffered many a summer with my grandmother when my mother was ill and cribbage was her favorite.” Mr. Darcy made an effort with Elizabeth’s youngest sister still at home, as Mary, the next oldest, sat between both groups and raised an eyebrow.

But Kitty felt embarrassed by such a direct question, a new consequence of her desire to avoid her sister Lydia’s haphazard path to matrimony at all costs. Kitty desired a proper courtship like Jane, and she looked over at her eldest sister conspiratorially whispering to her beau. 

The young woman could not resist the opportunity to tease. “Jane? Where did you learn cribbage since you are the one who taught me?” Kitty asked loudly, interrupting the private conversation of Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet entirely.

Mr. Darcy took the spare moment to gaze down the empty hall towards Mr. Bennet’s library, but there was still no sign of his Elizabeth.

“You are more nervous than a hen this evening, Mr. Darcy. I say, I know not what business you had with my husband, but if it’s Lizzy you hope to play next, I should give up. She spends many a night long into the late hours in that library with her father. They speak about books, I suppose, and are kind enough to leave the rest of us in peace.” Mrs. Bennet called out the behavior of Mr. Darcy, as she had hoped the man might hold some interest in Kitty, and revealed slight jealousy of her second eldest daughter, Elizabeth.

“Mama,” Jane cautioned, knowing poor Mr. Darcy’s business with their father was of the matrimonial kind, and if only their mother knew of such circumstances, she would be abundantly kinder to Elizabeth’s intended. “I’m certain Lizzy and Father will return to us soon. Aunt Phillips taught me and Lizzy how to play to help us learn sums.” Jane explained.

“How extraordinary, using a card game to educate! I should have liked that a great deal better than my stuffy governess, what say you, Darcy?” Bingley boasted, embarrassing Miss Bennet by contrasting the fact that the Bennet girls had grown up without the benefit of formalized instruction.

“I believe cribbage may be superior to the slate and hope to one day carry the tradition to my children,” Mr. Darcy said, catching Jane’s gaze. Kitty gasped and blushed, and Mrs. Bennet pounced.

“Will you be joining us for dinner tomorrow night, Mr. Darcy, with your friend, hmm? I shall have Cook make Kitty’s favorite, roasted rabbit as you can catch a good, fat one this time of year.”

Before Mr. Darcy could answer, the library door opened and Elizabeth dashed out to the stairs. All Mr. Darcy caught was the swish of her skirts in the dim light, before Mr. Bennet stepped out, considered the party before him, shook his head, and went back into the library. The door closed with a click that echoed down the hall as the parlor occupants sat quietly in expectation. Such idleness towards his own family made Darcy grow angry, and he worried that Elizabeth was upset above stairs without him. His heart ached to go to her.

“Miss Bennet,” Mr. Darcy cleared his throat, and Jane looked at him in confusion. She had missed the display entirely as Mr. Bingley had recaptured her attention.

“Yes, Mr. Darcy?”

Suddenly, Mr. Darcy was stuck. He had no idea what Mr. Bennet had said if he gave his permission, or what had unfolded in the library. If he asked Jane directly to check on Elizabeth, he would reveal too much to Mrs. Bennet when Elizabeth had wished to inform her mother without him present. He agreed with his future wife’s sound plan as a way to avoid the worst of Mrs. Bennet’s inevitable vulgarities concerning his wealth and status.

“Is roast rabbit a favorite of yours as well? Your mother plans to serve it tomorrow night.” Mr. Darcy returned to his card game with Kitty, checking his crib for any points. Sadly, all he had was a pair of deuces and no three to make fifteen with the lone face card. The seven did nothing.

“I detest rabbit!” Mr. Bingley said, shocking all until Mrs. Bennet began a nervous laugh and the rest joined in. Mr. Bingley looked confused.

“Do not fret, Mr. Bingley, I shall have a proper five courses planned. I shall have Kitty and Jane assist me. Do tell my daughter your favorites.” Mrs. Bennet placated Mr. Bingley, and then returned to the lace mending she was pretending to do as she hung on every word between Jane and Mr. Bingley.

Mr. Darcy sighed. His friend’s outburst had managed to distract Mrs. Bennet but did nothing to help his current predicament of learning what had made Elizabeth upset. His frustration increased as he dolefully continued to play cards, and he did not even possess the energy to inwardly chastise himself for such sentimentality that he longed for Elizabeth’s company.

“Do not worry, Mr. Darcy,” Mary whispered without looking up from her Bible. “I shall go check on my sister.” 

And true to her word, Mary Bennet quietly closed the Gospel, and stood up with such little fanfare, that only Mr. Darcy stood to give her the respect of a lady leaving the room. Mr. Bingley and Jane were laughing with Mrs. Bennet at something the man had said. Darcy resumed his seat impressed with Mary’s skills in observation, as well as the added talent of remaining invisible in a household with such a large family.

“Why is Mary checking on Lizzy?” Kitty asked as she offered the deck for Mr. Darcy to cut after a thorough shuffle.

She dealt them each six cards. It was her crib. 

“You shall have to ask your sister when she returns,” Mr. Darcy answered, as he lifted each card individually to add to his hand, arranging them as he placed them.

“Yes, but Mary spoke to you,” Kitty countered.

Mr. Darcy flashed her a brilliant smile, one he often only reserved for those who loved him best, and Kitty gasped. Before she could say anything more, he cautioned her.

“Please, let it be for the moment. All shall be revealed in good time.”

“That’s the business you had with Father!” Kitty squealed with delight, attracting the notice of her mother. Mrs. Bennet, like a hawk, suddenly watched Mr. Darcy and her daughter closely then realized Mary had left.

“Where’s Mary?”

“She went to check on Lizzy, Mama,” Kitty said, biting her lower lip to hide her grin.

“Lizzy? Lizzy is in the library with her father.”

“No, Mama, she went upstairs,” Kitty answered, to the relief of her card-playing partner in mischief.

“Then I shall just go have a talk with him about tomorrow evening’s meal. We are most looking forward to your company, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Bennet smiled at the man she had previously described as unfriendly and miserable, proving she took her motherly duties in matchmaking very seriously whenever the opportunity arose. “And you as well, Mr. Bingley.”

“My sister is in town–” Mr. Bingley began, and Mrs. Bennet interrupted.

“Then we must have her as well! A full table!” And the matriarch of the Bennet family bustled out of the room, leaving only the happy couple and Mr. Darcy and Kitty.

Above stairs, Mary discovered her sister she admired most by the sound of her sobs coming from her shared bedroom with Jane. Instead of calling out, Mary gently opened the door and merely lay next to Elizabeth crying into her pillow.

“Oh Jane, it was dreadful. I had to tell him everything Mr. Darcy has done for our family with Lydia and Wickham. He accused me of indifference and worried I would not respect him, my husband.” 

Mary held her breath as she was certainly not Jane, and Elizabeth had just confirmed the most outrageous suspicion that Mary held: Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were to marry! She had thought the man paid too much attention to her sister with his eyes, though no one else in the family seemed to notice. 

Ever since Lydia’s escapade with Mr. Wickham had threatened to ruin them all, the unmarried Bennet sisters had each made substantial changes to their behavior. Kitty became more reserved and Mary more observant. All in the name of keeping the family’s reputation intact.

Unable to speak and ruin the evening further by revealing her identity to be a sister other than Jane, Mary reached out her hand and gently rubbed Elizabeth’s back.

“You warned me, and I took pains to guard my heart. But I cannot go down looking like this, my face all wretched. I shall look a fright, and then my engagement shall be ruined the very night it is secured with Papa!”

The nonsensical nature of Elizabeth’s worries made Mary laugh despite her resolve to remain quiet. Her laughter, not matching Jane’s, reached her sister’s ears just fine and Elizabeth tensed under Mary’s calming hand. Slowly, she rolled over to face the interloper in her bed. 

“He is worried about you. He saw you leave father’s library and come upstairs, and he’s been stuck playing cards with Kitty. I daresay Mama has it in her mind to marry Kitty off to him,” Mary explained, in her plain-spoken, but never meanly intended, way.

Elizabeth’s voice cracked. “He sent you?”

Mary shook her head, disturbing the pillows so that both girls giggled as Elizabeth tried to wipe her tears with her hands. “I also spied your escape upstairs, though no one else did. I think it best if you clean your face and rejoin us to put him at ease and we can cry about Papa’s treatment after the gentlemen leave.”

Agreeing with her younger sister, Elizabeth began with just washing her face. But as she peered into the glass over the vanity, she realized her curls had wrestled free of their pin captors. So with Mary’s aid, because neither of them wished to call Betsy and draw more attention to the situation, they let Elizabeth’s hair fall completely out. She shook out her tresses and brushed them, thinking about her Mr. Darcy and how she wished his hands could feel her undone hair. Suddenly, she realized that Mary was another to know of her betrothal and she felt anxious to hear her sister’s opinion, hoping she would differ from the first reactions of both Jane and their father.

“Mary?”

Her sister took the brush from Elizabeth’s hand and finished the task herself, before gathering the hair sections to do a simple plait before turning everything up into a bun.

“When you are Mrs. Darcy, you’ll never have to do your own hair again. Nor ask for a sister’s help.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed, suddenly feeling another strange pang of regret in her chest. She would have to ask Jane if she felt any melancholy over leaving the Bennet sisterhood behind to embark on the journey of marriage with Mr. Bingley.

“You wish to know what I think about you marrying Mr. Darcy?” Mary guessed her sister’s question, to the point as ever.

Elizabeth tried to nod, but her sister held her hair tightly and the movement pulled so that she winced.

“I think you have a tendency to dismiss good men too often, and fortunately, you received another offer after Mr. Collins.”

Elizabeth furrowed her brows as Mary placed the last two pins in place, then stepped back to admire her work. To help see the brilliance of her sister’s nimble fingers, Elizabeth turned her head from side to side, trying to see as many angles as possible. 

Her jawline stood out to her in profile, as did the sharp nose of her Bennet ancestors. Was her father correct that she would lose respect for Mr. Darcy over time as her father had for her mother? Her feelings for the man were too powerful to contradict, but perhaps a passion burning so strongly was like a great fire and burned itself out too quickly?

“I have faced many judgments I made in haste, almost to my greatest misfortune. But I cannot place Mr. Collins in the same category as Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, chuckling at such a comparison.

“Why not? Because Mr. Collins is not rich? He shall be, at least more than he is now.”

Elizabeth spun around in the chair to look at her sister more curiously. “Mary, did you care for our cousin?”

Mary nodded. “You all laughed at him when he was just a man doing his best to teach good morals and standing right with God.”

“But he is married now to Charlotte,” Elizabeth cautioned.

Mary shrugged. “I know that and unlike you and Jane, I do not believe in one true love. Such a chance to happen in our small village is a fool’s errand. Mr. Collins was a man I esteemed, and I am certain I shall meet another.”

The two sisters left the bedroom, one feeling quite confident and the other beginning to question if she had any ability to judge people at all. Elizabeth had rarely considered Mary when the entire debacle of her cousin’s visit occurred the previous autumn. As Mr. Collins was to inherit Longbourn, all of England would expect the family to marry one of the daughters off to him. When neither Jane nor Elizabeth suited, for different reasons entirely,  Mr. Collins understandably looked elsewhere instead of continuing down the line of daughters and risking rejection again.

As they turned the corner from the last step, Elizabeth realized Mary and her friend Charlotte were very similar and both would make Mr. Collins a good wife. Spying the tall frame of her beloved down the hall in the well-lit parlor brought joy to Elizabeth’s heart. She let Mary lead her down the hall towards Fitzwilliam and as she neared, all of her fears and trepidations from her father’s interview fell aside.

“Lizzy! Lizzy! Lizzy!” Kitty greeted her sister with jubilation that did not match the other occupants in the room. Kitty grasped Elizabeth’s hands, practically snatching her away from Mary’s escort, and dragged her to where Mr. Darcy stood next to Jane and Mr. Bingley. “They just called their carriage,” she informed.

Elizabeth’s attention turned to Mr. Darcy immediately. “You’re leaving already?”

Mr. Darcy cleared his throat and gazed upon Elizabeth with the intensity she was long becoming familiar with. “Mr. Bingley is unwell.”

“To hell I am! I am quite well, indeed!” Mr. Bingley shouted, causing Jane and Kitty to gasp, and Mary to glare in disapproval.

“Charles, the ladies,” Mr. Darcy cautioned.

“Do not Charles me, you killed my horse!” Mr. Bingley began to sob and Jane hurried to comfort him as the two couples edged towards the door.

“What has come over him?” Elizabeth whispered, and Mr. Darcy leaned down to hear her better. 

“There was an accident, a foolhardy, boyish race between us this morning. His horse fell lame, there was no saving him and Bingley was thrown to the ground. I wrote to your father. Mr. Jones visited and believes he may have struck his head.”

Elizabeth looked past Mr. Darcy to see Jane desperately trying to calm her future husband, and she slightly wondered if the man was merely in his cups! But she had not been gone so long that Mr. Bingley would have managed to imbibe beyond reason.

“How did your time with your father go?” Mr. Darcy managed to ask, inspecting that none around them were tending to their conversation. The two youngest Bennet sisters were now assisting Jane with Mr. Bingley in keeping him distracted as they reached the vestibule.

“Well, but I’m afraid we shall have to discuss that another time,” she managed to tell a white lie, and Mr. Darcy’s shoulders tensed into a perfect square.

“But you retired—“

“Another time, “ Elizabeth said, and she smiled as the coachman gently knocked on the front door. “I know my parents should be fetched and fare you well, but perhaps under the circumstances . . . “ she trailed off.

“Yes, it is not necessary,” Mr. Darcy said, realizing he could not take a private farewell with Elizabeth as he had planned almost the entire day since their morning walk. “Come, Mr. Bingley, let us not trouble these ladies further tonight and return tomorrow.”

“Sweet, sweet Jane, you are too good for a man like myself,” Mr. Bingley began to self-flagellate and the Bennet sisters giggled in unison.

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy paused for a moment to make eye contact with Elizabeth after saying her name before giving her a bow, “Miss Mary and Miss Catherine,” he finished. “Thank you for such an enjoyable evening.”

And true to his word, Mr. Darcy helped Mr. Bingley to the carriage and the four Bennet sisters stood stunned that the gentlemen had to leave so early, and that they were now standing all alone.

“I cannot believe you are to marry Mr. Darcy!” Kitty exclaimed, causing all of the sisters to cheer and embrace Elizabeth, wishing her good fortune.

“But where is Mama?” Elizabeth asked, recalling that she still held one more task to complete in her promises to Mr. Darcy. Suddenly the girls heard the unmistakable high pitched laughter of their mother from the direction of their father’s study. Kitty and Mary both looked down in shame, while Jane and Elizabeth shared a smile.

“Come, let us all ready for bed,” Jane said, taking the lead.

Elizabeth agreed and followed her sister’s upstairs. She felt so inordinately happy that her Mr. Darcy had made so many efforts to win over her family as Kitty told her all about the card game and how he was perfectly amiable to her. 

After another half hour with her sisters and removing the day’s attire, but talking incessantly to recall the many events of the day, Elizabeth eventually heard her parents creaking up the stairs. Feeling courageous in the love of Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth bade Mary and Kitty a good night and told Jane she would return. Wrapping her robe around her, Elizabeth braved the last task before her and left to see their mother in her dressing room. She held news to impart.