Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
B y mid-afternoon, Mary’s stomach had settled and she was sleeping. Jane dozed by her bedside, seemingly—to Elizabeth’s great relief—less perturbed by the snow and illness keeping her away from Longbourn and her wedding preparations. It is likely a relief to have a respite from Mama speaking of it or worrying over every detail, she thought, looking down to re-read the note that had been delivered to Netherfield by Longbourn’s exhausted, snow-covered stableboy an hour earlier.
Lizzy,
I write to assure you that all is well at Longbourn. We are recovered from our colds, and everyone is safe from the storm. Thankfully, my brother and sister arrived before the snowstorm to tend to the children. I am quite relieved—the little ones are so lively and loud, their antics were beginning to wear on my nerves!
The wedding arrangements are progressing, though, as you might imagine, it would be far easier if you and Jane especially were here to help. It is in four days and I worry if Cook has enough rum and almonds for the bride cake. Please, do not trouble Jane with any of this and cause her to look any less radiant on her big day! You must keep her content until she returns to Longbourn, which, your father informs me, remains too hazardous to attempt, even by sleigh. The men and horses will be out with snowploughs today but this weather is most worrisome. Can you imagine if something happened to Jane and her wedding had to be postponed? It would be positively dreadful! As soon as the roads are safe, please return quickly. I expect Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst are providing you girls with night-rails and their fine gowns but I have sent a few things with Young Jimmy. Send him back to us with word of your sisters’ well-being.
Your devoted Mama
Elizabeth folded up the letter and pulled on a pair of the wool stockings her mother had thoughtfully packed in the small bag Jimmy had carried. Glancing out of the window in her bedchamber, she was encouraged to see that the skies were a bright blue. Not only were the roads being cleared but Mary should be well enough that they could return to Longbourn tomorrow. And now, Elizabeth felt she could safely venture out of doors for a solitary stroll. Though unladylike, she was restless and craved such exercise more than ever right now. She pulled on yesterday’s warm gown and went downstairs. As she was near the front door putting on her gloves and cloak, she heard her name called.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr Darcy, emerging from the drawing room.
Her insides tightened. “Mr Darcy,” she said in surprise. “I was about to go for a walk. I find myself feeling restive after all the confinement of these last days.”
“Would it be an inconvenience if I accompanied you? I too am feeling a bit restless.”
“Not at all, sir.” She tried to hide the reluctance in her voice. Her resolution to avoid him was being tested. In equal measure, she both longed for and dreaded his society.
He joined her in the vestibule and after putting on his own coat, hat, and gloves, he offered her his arm. Once outside, they walked quietly on the cleared front path. She listened to their footsteps crunch in the snow as she felt the invigorating icy air graze across her face.
Finally, he broke the silence. “How fares your sister?”
“Mary is better, sleeping peacefully and more recovered with every passing hour,” she said as her breath became visible in the cold air. “She is a bit weak now, but I believe she is on the mend.”
“I am thankful to hear it.” He then added, “It has been a pleasure to become better acquainted with your family.”
She laughed, and he looked confused. “Come now, Mr Darcy. We are friends now. You can be honest with me.”
He looked at her questioningly, his cheeks flushed with a rosy hue from the brisk air.
“It is no secret that you despise my family.”
“That is untrue.” On her disbelieving look, he said, “I assure you, I do not despise them.”
She allowed her silence to communicate her scepticism .
After another pause, he continued, “I believe what you see as disdain is more likely discomfort. Surely you remember that I do not recommend myself easily to strangers. I shall admit though, I did fear they might try my patience in coming to Hertfordshire.”
She shivered as the cold air ran through her body before responding, “They are, I know, livelier in spirit than you may think dignified.”
“They are livelier than what I am accustomed to, but it does not mean I dislike it,” he said. “Indeed, I have come to admire them. I have felt more warmth in your family in a few short days than I have experienced with mine in my entire life.”
It is a compliment born of his own deprivation , she thought with a surge of sympathy. He sighed, and she could tell he had more to say. “But?”
He glanced at her, wincing. “But, as one who cares for your circumstances…I can only say—and pray forgive me any censure for I do not mean it as such—I do wish that your father would have prepared better for the future of your family upon his departure from this world. I fear he has put you at a disadvantage.”
Elizabeth looked down, unable to deny the truth of his words. And he spoke them with such gentleness that she could not fault him. A gust of wind swept through, cutting through the last remnants of warmth she felt. She drew her coat more tightly around herself.
They went along in silence once more until Mr Darcy spoke again. “Miss Lydia seems much altered since I encountered her in Kent.”
“She is three years older. That can do much in a lady’s maturity and countenance, particularly when the years in question take the lady from a child to a young woman.”
“She seems more…”
“Proper?” she finished for him.
“Well…yes.”
Elizabeth was silent for a contemplative moment, then decided she felt she could trust him. She had an idea he might have already heard parts of the tale from Mr Bingley, and preferring to take charge of the truth before Miss Bingley or anyone else could twist the narrative, she considered it prudent to disclose the story herself, just in case he had not heard it yet. Mr Darcy was not one to gossip, so it would only shape his opinion of her family, and not spread to the public.
“Not so long ago, Lydia had a hard lesson in the realities and evils of this world.”
“Oh?”
Taking a breath, she said quietly, “She was deceived by the looks and charm of an older man, who promised her marriage. Alas, she allowed him some small liberties, only to be abandoned soon afterwards. We are fortunate the news did not get out. There were rumours of course, but the extent of what happened was never revealed to larger society and she was spared any public disgrace.”
Mr Darcy was silent for a moment. “And what of that gentleman, Mr Andrews? I see them together often.”
“Mr Andrews? He has long admired my sister for her vivaciousness. Although he knew the truth of all that happened, he did not discard her. He visited her daily, and engaged with her when she felt that there was no redemption for her. Their affection grew and they love each other very much. ”
“It seems there is much to admire in his constancy.”
“Yes. It is regrettable they cannot marry.”
“Why can they not?”
“He has not a penny to his name. Although born a gentleman, he is a second-born son who has had a prolonged feud with his older brother. He has no inheritance, and his brother is making it difficult for him to establish himself in a profession. For now, he and Lydia are great friends. They are young enough that it is not hurting her prospects to be in his company so often, but one day, possibly soon, they will have to separate. I fear for what it will do to both.”
He furrowed his brows and was silent. Elizabeth wondered whether she ought to regret confiding in him as she had. “I beg you to not be too quick to judge her, sir. Lydia thought herself in love and believed wholly that a marriage proposal was imminent. Although I am not excusing her actions, I have compassion for her failings. And I find more faults with the man who fooled her so cruelly.”
“Please, you are too hasty in your assessment of me,” said Mr Darcy. “I do not judge her. Would it surprise you that a member of my family has a similar history?”
“Yes, that surprises me, indeed.”
“You have trusted me with a difficult story. I believe I can trust you also.”
Then he recounted the story of his sister, Georgiana, who at fifteen had been deceived by an older man as well, one who was a close friend of the family. Although she had not lost her virtue, the man—whose true aim was her fortune—had persuaded her into an elopement. Mr Darcy had raced to intercept the couple just in time to prevent the marriage.
Elizabeth could scarcely imagine the fear and panic of such a situation. “How awful, I am so sorry that happened to her, and to you. How does she fare now?”
“She sometimes has happy moments, but mostly she seems a shell of her former self.”
Elizabeth contemplated this and felt the extent of his grief over it, especially since she had all but gone through almost the same experience with her sister. Another gust of wind blew through; chilled, she instinctively moved closer to Mr Darcy for warmth. “I am sorry for her. I hope her spirits recover and she will marry a gentleman who adores her.”
He nodded and quietly thanked her.
She wondered why his father, the elder Mr Darcy, had not taken care of the matter but left it up to his son. Politely, she said, “And your father? It must have been difficult for him.”
“My father died before this occurred.”
“Oh,” she gasped, stopping to look at him in shock. “Mr Bingley had not said…I am so sorry, I did not know.” Her grip on his arm tightened as she watched him sigh heavily.
“Yes, um, he died three years ago...before our last conversation in Kent.”
“What? You never told me.”
He looked away from her, then down at the ground before replying. “I received the dreadful news in the hours after dining with your family at Rosings. It was then when I learnt I was the new master of Pemberley and guardian to my sister.”
Her shock—that he had heard of his father’s death in the hours after the horrible dinner he endured with Lydia and Mrs Bennet—resonated deeply. Yet even as she now understood why his behaviour towards her had changed so drastically in mere hours, it was sympathy for his loss that overwhelmed her .
“I am grieved for you,” Elizabeth said feelingly. “Please accept my condolences, belated though they are.” She understood it now, the new solemnity in his face, his softer demeanour, the almost paternal-like concern he had shown Mary. It was as if his entire aspect had aged. He had endured much in the years since she saw him last and now shouldered a great responsibility. She felt a surge of compassion and admiration for him.
He murmured his thanks and they began walking again, both seemingly lost in thought as they turned back towards the house. Only the sound of their feet softly shuffling through the snow broke their shared silence.
“I recall you were quite close to your father,” Elizabeth said. “It must have been difficult to lose him.”
“Yes, it certainly was,” he answered in a hoarse voice. “We were beginning to enjoy the change in our relationship from father and son to something more like equals. He was the closest friend I had.”
Her heart and eyes filled with emotion. “I am sure it was difficult to learn how to manage your estate while taking on responsibility for your sister at the same time.”
“Indeed. It was for a period of time, quite overwhelming.” He paused for a moment before saying in a rushed manner, “To be honest, I have long wanted to speak to you about this and offer my sincerest apologies.”
Elizabeth tilted her head as she looked at him, surprised by how the conversation was shifting. “An apology?”
“Yes, I owe you one.” He halted and turned to her. “I learnt the news of my father’s death only hours before you and I spoke, and amid such turmoil I know I cannot have behaved as I ought to have done.” After a deep breath, he continued, “I have since learnt that when in the deepest stages of grief, it is unwise to make monumental decisions.”
“I have heard that too,” she interjected softly.
“Had I but known that advice three years ago.” He shook his head as though disgusted with himself. “I wish, most sincerely, for you to know I am grieved by how I spoke that day. I regret that I caused you pain.”
She was stunned by his confession and for a moment, contemplated everything he had said and the anger she had carried. There was no reason to speak of it now; in these past days, she had set aside her ire and resentment. “It does help to understand why your demeanour with me changed so much in one night. I was hurt and angry but I forgive you, Mr Darcy. And I do thank you for telling me.”
They were both quiet for a few minutes, but continued walking. In the distance, Elizabeth heard the soft thud of snow hitting the ground, presumably falling from a tree, as she attempted to think of something to say to fill the silence. Mr Darcy’s revelations had left her dumbfounded and her thoughts were awhirl.
He broke the silence first. “Do you ever think about that spring?”
She felt a twinge in her stomach. “Yes, I do. Do you?”
“They are some of the fondest memories I have,” he responded quietly. “Have you—have you ever fallen in love with another?”
Taken aback by his question, Elizabeth’s heart raced and thudded in her chest. Choosing honesty over prevarication, she said, “No.” Then, feeling bold, she added, “Have you?”
“No,” he said instantly.
Elizabeth could feel his eyes on her but she dared not look at him. They had arrived back to Netherfield’s front courtyard and as they neared the front door, she heard his sharp intake of breath, as if he would speak, but he remained silent. Suddenly he said, “Has Mr Royce asked you to marry him, as you predicted?”
“No, the dangerous weather and our current predicament has certainly detained him. But I believe the question should occur soon after I arrive home… And I mean to say yes.”
He stopped and turned to face her. “You just said you had not fallen in love with another.”
“I do not love him, but I respect him,” she confessed. “I believe love changes as you get older, and though you do not fall in love as powerfully as you do the first time, it does not mean it is not true. I will grow to love him in my duty to him.”
“Duty? I thought you once said?—”
“I know what I once said,” she said sharply. Checking her tone, she continued more softly, “But that was before.”
He nodded and gazed into the distance. When he looked back at her, his eyes were bleak and intense. “Will he treat you well?”
“I am certain he will.”
She resumed walking and as she reached the front steps, he took her arm and gave his head a slight shake. His mouth was pulled tight as he gazed towards the ground, and his body tense. In a soft voice, he said, “Do you think if I had not ceased my attentions, we would have married?”
Her mouth dropped open, surprised by such a frank question. He murmured a quick apology but continued to look at her, clearly wishing to know her answer.
“I do not know, we are so different now, how can it signify?”
He interrupted, “But do you? ”
She felt her eyes sting and looked at the ground. Sighing, she climbed the last step and looked up at him. “Yes. Yes, I do,” she said quietly.
Mr Darcy closed his eyes. “I have been such a fool, Elizabeth.”
Her heart dropped within her chest and she felt herself blush, unsure what to say, or think, or even feel. In that most inauspicious of moments, the door opened and Kitty appeared. Giggling, she grabbed Elizabeth’s arm and began pulling her into the house.
“Lizzy, you must come inside and help us convince Miss Bingley to allow us to set up an archery pitch in the snow!”
“Um…” Elizabeth tried to tug her arm from her sister’s grasp. “I do not…the snow will prevent…”
“Oh, fie on that! Come now, it would be so amusing, would it not? Mr Darcy, you would like it too, I think?”
The high colour on Mr Darcy’s countenance was all the indication that something of great import had just passed between them, but Elizabeth hoped her sister would mistake it for the effect of the cold.
He did not seem to hear Kitty’s pleadings. “Please excuse me,” was all he said, before walking briskly past them and into the house.