P&P The Untold Stories: Miss Darcy meets Miss Elizabeth Bennet at the inn in Lambton

Their first meeting, from Mr Darcy’s point of view

August 5, 1812

The curricle advanced at a steady pace along the tree-lined road, the sleek coats of the bays gleaming in the dappled sunlight. Much as he was tempted to flick the reins and urge the well-matched pair into a canter, Darcy thought better of it and suppressed the reckless impulse. He would do well to make haste slowly. And that, he felt obliged to remind himself, should apply to everything, not just the handling of his curricle. Heaven forbid that he should rush headlong and ruin this unexpected chance to make amends and lessen her ill opinion!

Would she agree to a fresh start?

The momentous question flashed through his mind, unbidden, and Darcy pressed his lips together as he bit back an exasperated huff. For goodness’ sake, he had just decided that he should proceed slowly and with caution, instead of foolishly rush in where angels feared to tread. Nay, he must take one step at a time. For the coming hour, he should focus solely on the purpose of this morning call: to introduce his sister to Elizabeth’s acquaintance.

Oddly enough, Georgiana had shown herself exceedingly eager. They had been able to speak in private once Miss Bingley and the Hursts had chosen to retire to their apartments and rest after the long hours of travel. No sooner had he given her the salient facts than Georgiana had exclaimed, “Miss Bennet is in Lambton? And I might meet her? Oh, Brother, let us go today! Do say we could! We shan’t be missed. I should imagine that Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst will remain in their bedchambers for a goodly while. Oh, marvellous!” she had clapped and beamed once he had agreed with surprised alacrity, although his original plan had been to escort her to Lambton on the morrow. “Thank you, Fitzwilliam. Let me go up to change. This gown will not do. I must change out of my travelling apparel. But I shan’t tarry. Rest easy, I shall return directly!”

She had been as good as her word. She had returned in no time at all, flushed with excitement and full of questions. Yet she had lacked the opportunity to voice more than a couple, for Bingley had joined them before long. Just as well, to his way of thinking, Darcy was compelled to own. His sister’s eager queries had only served to make him acutely aware that he knew so little. All the crucial questions were still unanswered.

Georgiana was very quiet now. She had not said a word since she had thanked him for handing her into the curricle. Perhaps she had made her peace with the fact that a detailed, private conversation would have to wait. Bingley had expressed the wish to pay his respects to Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her relations, and had chosen to accompany them on horseback. Yet a long glance in his sister’s direction gave Darcy to think that her initial excitement had given way to a measure of unease. He saw her fidget, then smooth her skirts with a swift, quivering gesture. Touched, he made to free one hand to clasp hers and reassure her, but before he could do so, her gloved fingers alighted on his sleeve, and she turned towards him to quietly ask, “Are you very nervous?”

Darcy gave a rueful chuckle as he covered her small hand with his.

“I was about to ask the same. You have no reason, I assure you.”

“But you do,” she observed with her newfound directness which never failed to disconcert him.

“True,” was the only answer he could make.

He drew his hand away to grip the reins and slow the horses when a couple of stone cottages came into view – an early indication that they would soon reach Lambton. But Georgiana kept her gloved hand in the crook of his arm all the way to the market square. As they came to a standstill before the Red Bull, she pressed his arm, then leaned closer to whisper, “Best foot forward, Brother.”

The Red Bull in Lambton (Photos: J Starnes)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

‘Good grief! Stop staring!’ Darcy chastised himself, and tore his eyes away from the countenance that enchanted and unsettled him in well-nigh equal measure. She seemed perturbed. Tense. Flustered. The rosy flush that had been glowing in her cheeks when the maid had shown him and Georgiana into the Gardiners’ private parlour appeared to have subsided by a fraction, but in her air altogether there was something that threw him off balance, for it had not been there before. Nor could he define it.

She was not silent, not as such, but having her share in the conversation now seemed to require a deliberate effort. Gone was her airy nonchalance of old. It had given way to something else – Darcy could tell as much. Yet he could not define that subtle transformation either.

(BBC)

“Oh, yes, a great deal,” Georgiana said with a soft smile in response to some question he had missed.

The dear girl still found it difficult to reply in anything but monosyllables, he noted, deeply grateful for her efforts. Ever since the formidable introduction had taken place, she had endeavoured to play her part to the best of her abilities, but it was plain to see that her resurgent shyness was not helping matters. Even so, it was a great comfort to see her smile. Her good humour was the surest sign that she was neither distressed nor daunted.

All of a sudden, his eyes flicked to Elizabeth of their own accord. Their rebellion was perhaps to be expected – he had looked away for long enough. But, rather than staring in silence like a tongue-tied fool, this time he cleared his throat and said, “Mr Bingley is here as well. He insisted on accompanying us to Lambton. He was loath to miss this opportunity of waiting upon you.”

The message was delivered in the nick of time. No sooner had Elizabeth finished saying that she would be very glad to see him than Bingley’s quick step was heard on the stairs, and a few moments later he came into the room.

As was often the case, his friend’s arrival made all the difference. The tension ebbed. The conversation began to flow with greater ease, thanks to Bingley’s natural talent and unaffected cordiality. The only disadvantage was that the new seating arrangements materially reduced his chances of speaking with Elizabeth, Darcy discovered, but he straightened in his seat and schooled his features into complaisance, lest he look as though he were sulking in the corner. By all that was holy, there would be nothing to remind her of his former conduct! He must find ways to show her that her fully justified reproofs had not fallen on deaf ears.

Goodness knows how he might atone for the most insulting marriage proposal in Christendom, but he had better make all possible amends for the arrogance of openly disdaining her Cheapside relations before he had even met them. Finding the right topics of conversation might have been a demanding task, but, to his good fortune, it was as easy as could be. Mr Gardiner was fond of fishing. His wife hailed from Lambton. Both topics offered a wealth of possibilities.

Perhaps they would accept an invitation to dine at Pemberley before they left the country. If his luck held, maybe they could even be persuaded to extend their stay.

Across the room, Elizabeth had finished exchanging the usual civilities with Bingley, and now she and Georgiana were speaking about music. Animation in her voice and countenance, his sister was no longer resorting to short answers.

Fresh warmth spread through Darcy’s chest as his gaze travelled from one to the other, then remained fixed upon Elizabeth and yearning swelled, bittersweet and unconfined. He exhaled and looked away. Now he had better gather his wits together and ask Mr Gardiner if he would care to join the small party of friends who had been invited to fish in the trout stream on the morrow.

Aye. One step at a time.

Catch up with all the Untold Stories HERE