Page 13 of A Promise Made

“No more borrowing my spy glass,” her papa ordered. “No more contriving to put your sister and Mr Darcy together, and certainly no encouragement to Jane to deepen her regard for the man. I actually think highly enough of the young man that I would dearly love for Jane to marry him, but, Lizzy, such an event should come from them, not from outsiders. And, frankly, it would be wildly improbable.”

Lizzy watched as her father sat forward, pinning her in her seat with his forthright gaze. She had rarely seen him talk thus steadily without dropping into his usual brand of sardonic humour.

He explained, “Both Mr Darcy and I are landowners and gentlemen, so a match between your sister and our benefactor would not be scandalous; however, he is wealthy enough to be considered aristocracy, despite his lack of a title. His grandfather was an earl; the fact that there is nobility within his family means that he could easily marry the daughter of a baronet, a baron, or an earl—perhaps even higher. He could choose for his wife an heiress with twenty thousand pounds, perhaps even fifty thousand pounds, possibly even an heiress with another grand estate.”

Lizzy nodded. “I think a part of me knew that about him. From the beginning, I thought he was far too stuffy for the parlour of Longbourn, but I can see him fitting right in with some gaudy mansion and a pompous wife.”

She had spoken carelessly, but when she saw her father’s frown become fiercer, she arranged her face into a bright, sunny smile. “I am talking of my first impression, of course. Now that I know Mr Darcy better, I know that he is more amiable than stuffy.”

Her papa made an impatient noise in his throat, and he said, “You are dismissed, Lizzy. No more dogging Mr Darcy’s steps, no more pestering or insults or any signs of ill breeding. I know you can do better—and you shall.”

Lizzy gathered the scraps of her composure as she rose and left her father’s study. She walked with impressive control to the stairs and climbed them in the same manner as usual, and she entered the bedchamber she shared with Jane. Then she took the unprecedented step of turning the key in its lock before she threw herself down onto her bed, her face pressed into her pillow, and she sobbed.

Eventually recovering long enough to remember her rule against crying, Lizzy was grateful for the fact that her pillow had muffled the sounds. Nobody had knocked on her door—and someone would have, if they had heard, because she never cried. Or, apparently, almost never.

Lizzy wished she could disregard all of her father’s words. After all, he had been behaving unlike himself quite often of late. But she was honest enough to admit that there was sense behind some of his pronouncements.

What her father did not know, and she had not told him, was that Mr Darcy gave every sign of being more entertained than irritated by her curiosity and her theories. She knew from his words and his expressions that he wished her papa would relent and tell her the motive rather than maintain all the secrecy.

He is more on my side than yours, on this issue, Papa. And I think he likes me. I think he feels that I am a sort of clever-but-sometimes-silly younger sister.

The door rattled a bit against the lock, and then Jane’s gentle voice called through the door. “Lizzy? May I please come in?”

Only Jane would so sweetly ask permission to enter her own bedchamber. Lizzy swiftly unlocked the door, took one look into her sister’s clear blue eyes, and then enfolded her into a tight hug. “Oh, Jane, I am so sorry!”

“You are sorry? I admit I feel a bit downcast, but it is not your doing.”

“It probably is my doing,” Lizzy said, “but I sincerely regret my words and actions, and I will do what I can to cheer you. Did Papa have a talk with you?”

Jane raised her eyebrows and asked, “Did you spot us? Yes, Papa came into the parlour and shocked all of us by asking me to take a turn around the gardens with him. I instantly had a feeling that something unpleasant would occur—when has Father ever asked me for a private conference?—and then, when we were outside, he very gently warned me not to develop hopes of Mr Darcy. He explained why: he is expected to marry a diamond of the first water, and he will likely wed a lady with a title and a fortune—or at least one of the two. I felt…very foolish for the feelings I had developed.”

“You see?” Lizzy responded, feeling even more wretched than before. “This is why I feel so very guilty. I was wondering why a stranger would work so hard to help us, and I saw Mr Darcy smile at you one day, and I had this mad theory that he helped us because he had fallen for you. And then I thought, if you and I ran into him a few times, I could see if that was so, and I could help you both along…but….”

Lizzy stopped talking, because it seemed unnecessarily hurtful to explain that she could see no special regard in his attitude, after all.

“But,” Jane said softly, “you realised that he had not fallen for me.” She would not meet Lizzy’s eyes, but instead looked down towards her hands in her lap, spots of pink flagging her cheeks.

Lizzy felt like the very worst sister in England.

“Mr Darcy is always very polite,” she offered Jane.

“Mr Darcy is always polite to everyone.”

“I am sorry for my interference. But I am curious—why did you come to like him so quickly?”

Jane looked down and then began to speak in a firmer voice than was her wont, “He has always seemed serious, but that is a good thing. He has many responsibilities, and he is serious about them. He handles responsibilities like a man should—like a gentleman should. He is also serious because his father died not long ago, and he is mourning him. He is serious because he works hard. I have never seen Papa work as hard as he has since Mr Darcy came—and even so, I still have not seen Papa do anything more active than ride a horse. Mr Darcy will demonstrate a newly acquired piece of machinery. Remember, we watched him fix that seed drill that nobody else knew how to fix? And you told me how he became filthy once while checking the blockage in a drainage ditch. Can you imagine Papa doing any of that himself? Even when he was younger?”

Jane almost always defended people…but she always before had done so in her usual gentle manner, using a soft voice. For her to speak so firmly to Lizzy was rare—and for her to make unflattering comparisons between a family member and anyone else was a first.

Lizzy loved Jane very dearly, but she often dismissed her opinions of others on the grounds that Jane tended to be too generous with praise for everyone. However, this critique of their father was clear-sighted and apt.

She took too long to respond, and Jane said, “Lizzy, you know I love Papa just as much as you do. However, like everyone, he has his faults. At any rate, I stand by what I said.”

Lizzy drew her sister into another embrace. “I admit that I am surprised by your criticism, but I fully agree with you about Papa. In regard to what you said about Mr Darcy, I believe you are correct—or at least mostly correct. I feel that he is honest, but his motivations still puzzle me.”

Jane said, “I, too, wonder a bit about why he has come and helped us. But if the men are determined to keep the reasons secret, I will just accept the wonderful results and be glad for them.”

“Your attitude does you credit, Jane, although I am not sure I can emulate it. But, at any rate, I am sorry for dragging you around in my quest to prove a theory.”