Page 59 of Mr. Darcy's Runaway Bride
“Pemberley is indeed beautiful,” Elizabeth said carefully. “Though I fear Mrs Long has exaggerated its scale considerably.”
“Is it very grand?” Lydia demanded, leaning forward eagerly. “Are there many fine furnishings? Do you have a carriage of your own?”
“And servants,” Kitty added. “How many do you command?”
“The house is well-appointed,” Elizabeth answered, feeling more at ease now. “And there are indeed carriages and servants aplenty, though I make no claim to commanding them.”
“And how is Mr Bingley?” Kitty asked. “Is he coming to dinner?”
“I imagine not, but we will have him another time,” Mrs Bennet’s eyes lit with calculation. “Such a fine gentleman, Mr Bingley. So attentive to our Jane.”
Jane flushed delicately. “Mama, please.”
“Well, it is true,” Mrs Bennet insisted. “And why should I not speak of it? We have had little enough good fortune since Lizzy ran off and ruined our prospects with the Blackfriars. And Mr Darcy has been less then forthcoming in terms of filling the gap left by the Blackfriars departure.”
Elizabeth wanted to put her mother in her place, sudden anger soaring through her but as always, her sister smoothed the waves.
“I believe the tea is ready,” Jane interjected, rising swiftly. “Shall I pour?”
The next quarter of an hour passed in strained conversation. Elizabeth recounted her journey north to Pemberley, describing the estate in modest terms that nevertheless failed to dampen her mother’s fascination. Lydia and Kitty peppered her with questions about Derbyshire society, clearly disappointed when Elizabeth admitted she had made few acquaintances beyond the immediate neighbourhood.
“But there must be assemblies,” Lydia protested. “And officers! Surely you have met some officers?”
“Derbyshire is not currently hosting a militia regiment,” Elizabeth replied, unease striking her at the mention of officers. “Our social circle is rather limited.”
“How dull,” Lydia pronounced, sinking back into the sofa.
Mr Bennet, who had remained largely silent throughout, now cleared his throat. “Perhaps, Lydia, not everyone measures a location’s merits by the quantity of red coats it contains.”
Elizabeth caught his eye, a flash of their old understanding passed between them.
“Lizzy,” he said then. “Would you mind joining me in the library?”
Elizabeth followed her father with relief. Her mother’s eyes had been burning into her all evening and she feared Mrs Bennet was simply waiting for a chance to corner her.
This was a welcome escape. The library remained unchanged. Shelves lined with familiar volumes, the scent of leather bindings and paper hanging in the air. This room had always been her refuge, a sanctuary of rational thought amid the chaos of the household.
Mr Bennet settled into his usual chair, gesturing for Elizabeth to take the seat opposite. For a long moment, he simply regarded her, his eyes searching her face.
“You seem well, Lizzy,” he said at last. “Truly well, not merely putting on a brave face.”
“I am well, Papa,” she replied. “My situation is not what you had planned for me, but I have found contentment at Pemberley.”
“And your Mr Darcy? Is he kind to you?”
“The kindest of men,” Elizabeth said with complete sincerity. “My happiness is of great importance to him.”
Mr Bennet nodded slowly. “I am glad to hear it.” He paused, then continued with evident difficulty. “I owe you an apology, Lizzy. I should never have pressed you towards the Blackfriars match.”
Elizabeth remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
“I was blinded by the advantages it offered—not merely financial security, though that was a consideration, but the elevation in our family’s standing. The connection to a respected London family seemed… desirable.” Mr Bennet sighed, removing his spectacles to polish them with his handkerchief. “I failed to consider your happiness, which should have been my primary concern.”
“You were thinking of the family’s welfare,” Elizabeth said.
“At the expense of my favourite daughter’s future,” Mr Bennet countered. “A poor bargain, and one I have regretted every day since you left.” He replaced his spectacles, his gaze direct. “Your uncles have been more generous than I deserve. Both Gardiner and Phillips have extended loans to stabilise our situation.”
“They are good men.”
