Elizabeth sighed softly. She had spoken at length on this subject with Jane and with Mrs Gardiner, believing she knew her answer, and that answer had been a clear refusal. But each day in which she was obliged to remain in another’s house insensibly weakened that resolution.
“I would never marry…as you did, to a man chosen by my family—by my mother, now that she alone remains. While my father lived, such a question could not arise; he always required that we should know the man we were to marry. For him, Iam persuaded, love signified a thorough knowledge of character. And yet, paradoxical as it may seem, I should also have trusted his judgement, though he would never have interfered.”
“Not even if you had brought him a suitor whom he considered unworthy?”
Elizabeth reflected for some time. Such suppositions were difficult, now that her father was no more.
“I could not have been entirely happy had my father despised my husband—what do I say? I should have been unhappy; yet I do not believe I should have obeyed him.”
Mrs Cooper smiled. “What an excellent man he must have been, and what an education he gave you! I think it is unlikely you would ever choose an unworthy husband, precisely because Mr Bennet guided you so well. But we wander, you say you would not marry a stranger at first sight, merely to escape your present situation.”
“No,” said Elizabeth, with decision. “I should require that we come to know one another, if I felt there might be a suitability between us. Time must pass; he must court me; he must know my family, and, above all, understand our exact situation. I would not make marriage an end in itself, but a relationship to endure for life.”
“Very well—that is clear. But the second question is this: would you marry Mr Darcy now, if he were to ask you?”
“He will not ask me,” she said, with some sharpness. “But if he did, I should reflect before I refused.”
“Because there might be a possibility of acceptance?”
But Elizabeth made no reply, and Mrs Cooper did not press her for an answer.
Chapter 14
Elizabeth and Mrs Cooper travelled almost in silence for several miles on their way to Pemberley, when, finally, Mrs Cooper spoke, inviting Elizabeth to look from the window.
“We are nearly there, my dear. We shall now ascend for half a mile, and then find ourselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceases. I have instructed our coachman to stop there. Believe me, it is worth descending from the carriage to admire the view.”
In spite of her resolution, Elizabeth’s heart trembled with expectation, as it did whenever she went to the theatre or to a ball. The same thrill, the same eager anticipation.
Once alighted, at the summit of the hill, her eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road, with some abruptness, wound.
She scarcely breathed, so wholly was she absorbed by the scene before her, and, whatever she might tell herself, that excitement could not be subdued.
It was a large, handsome stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high, woody hills; andin front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, yet without any artificial appearance.
Its banks were neither formal nor uselessly adorned. She was delighted.
Elizabeth looked towards Mrs Cooper, who had been watching her for some time. It was an unreadable look, yet she could not help attempting an interpretation.
“You look at me as though to understand what sort of woman I am, refusing this?” She gestured towards the imposing building.
“No, not in the least; I look at you with admiration. Besides, it was a man you refused, not a house.”
“Many women think only of…the house. Pray do not mistake me. I know you were married to men chosen by your parents; far be it from me to judge.”
It was not a fair day. It had rained since morning; while they had paused to admire the house, a ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, though it lasted only a moment. They had scarcely time to regain the carriage before a sudden gust, accompanied by heavy rain, overtook them.
The rain did not abate. When they arrived before the house, they were obliged to wait for the servants to conduct them with umbrellas to the hall.
Elizabeth entered first and found him there, just within the entrance, waiting for their arrival. She shook a few drops from her gown, and only then raised her eyes to him. For a moment, she did not doubt her reception; the house, the scene, everything had prepared her to feel at ease, and she almost smiled. But the illusion vanished as quickly as it had arisen when she heard him say:
“This rain! It was well you came by carriage.”
The words recalled, unbidden, Jane’s journey in the rain; Elizabeth felt the colour rise and fall again at once. The day,which she had expected to be merely agreeable, not glorious, was at once overcast. She looked at him with cold eyes and hoped he perceived the anger in them. Instead of welcoming her, she felt herself almost dismissed.
Then Mrs Cooper entered, and from another room came a young lady who bore a striking resemblance to Darcy, and the colonel, who looked at her, hoping to see some sign of recognition; but at that moment it was impossible for Elizabeth to smile.
She glanced back towards the entrance, and felt certain that, had she not been with Mrs Cooper, had she been with anyone else, she would have turned back at once, quitted the house, left Pemberley, and, above all, withdrawn from his life.