Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
D arcy was surprised to find two letters—one from Bow Street and another from near Hunsford—awaiting him when he returned from sparring with Beech and his pugilists. It had been only four days since he sent his own; he did not realise the turnaround could be so swift. Elizabeth must have sent her response at just the right time for it to have reached him so quickly, for as he opened it, he saw that it was dated just yesterday.
April 24, 1812, Hunsford, Kent
Dear Sir,
I write to you from the Scarletts’ cottage so as not to risk even the smallest chance of this letter being seen by eyes loyal to Lady Catherine or that lady’s daughter. What I have to say is rather disturbing, so forgive my frankness as you read.
I have reason to believe Miss de Bourgh may have had something to do with the violence that was intended for you. Just this afternoon, while the ladies of the parsonage and I were gathered at Rosings for tea, she erupted in a rage unlike anything I have ever seen. It began when she seated herself next to Mrs Collins, which in itself was strange but nothing I thought to be overly concerned about. Miss dB then proceeded to question Charlotte (who has recently revealed that she is in the family way) about her health, prying for further and further details until it became quite rude.
All the while, the colonel was saying her name in a warning fashion and giving her what he surely hoped would be quelling looks. Miss dB was undaunted. Instead, she persisted, even questioning Maria and myself regarding Charlotte’s health and strength. It was absurd, but as she has not been out in society, I imagined Miss dB just did not know that such an inquisition was considered unseemly.
Then, Lady Catherine spoke, calling her daughter’s attention to her most ardently, a mixture of horror and I would say fear in her countenance. It was then that Miss dB stood in a red fury, flung the porcelain plate from which she had been eating against the stone hearth, and screamed abuses at her mother while stabbing her fork into the table before her. She plunged the utensil into the wood with such force that it stood there long after Miss dB had quit the room. Needless to say, we were all shocked into silence as we stared at it, as if it were a sepulchre heralding doom.
Her violent behaviour aside, her tirade to her mother was mostly concerning you. Though much of it sounded nonsensical, it was very clear that she resented her mother always pushing her towards you, ‘as if such a union could erase the past’, she said. She ranted against Pemberley and Derbyshire and then she said she wished you had never been born, that the Darcys did not exist, and then—and this is the part that was most shocking—that you would all just die!
I do not know what you can do with this knowledge, but I could not allow a day to go by before informing you of it. It is my dearest concern that you stay out of harm’s way. I must confess, your having seen the two hired men at your very inn causes me no little anxiety. I am glad you are keeping up your disguise and fitting in amongst the local set, for it sounds as if that is your only safeguard.
May I take this opportunity to tell you, sir, that I am a most disobedient friend? For, I cannot find it in my heart to burn your letter. It is too precious to me. Can you still claim to hold me in affectionate esteem after having been so abominably abused by me, accused without merit of such perfidy? It is too wonderful! I will confess something else to you, by way of helping you understand where my heart lies?—
Your cousin recently told me of his interest in a young lady and his wish to capture the attention of a ‘bright, particular star’. You may think me vain, but I honestly feared that that star was me. Of course, this would have been a great compliment, as the colonel is most affable and charming, and I enjoy his company immensely. However, as he spoke, I could only think of the pain my rejection might cause him.
I spent the entirety of the day ruminating on the implication of this realisation. I asked myself why I was so positive that I could not give such a respectable gentleman even a shred of hope. It was then that I had to acknowledge that my heart is no longer mine to give. I amaze myself as I write this, but I can truthfully state that my affections have been secured and are simply unattainable by any other man. To own the truth, they are now firmly and quite irrevocably?—
Yours,
EB
PS—Your absence wears on the colonel more each day, especially with the turmoil brewing between the ladies at Rosings. Sometimes I feel I must tell him where you are, but every time I open my mouth to do so, something happens to interrupt me. I have decided to take this as a sign from Providence that it is for your good or his that he not know. Please advise me if you feel otherwise.
The fact that Bow Street had still not been able to pin down Mr Seymour or find out any more about the reason for his frequent visits to Kent did not register with Darcy. He was too overcome by Elizabeth’s declaration.
She loves me!
He had secured her affections, her very heart, and she would have no other man. How could this be? And why the devil was he so far away?
What rapturous torture it was for him to be so close to securing her hand and binding his life to hers, yet separated from her by miles of road, unable to sweep her into his arms and swing her into the air. Just the thought of her embrace, her tinkling laughter as he crushed her to him and spun her about in incandescent delight brought an immovable smile to his face.
He did not care that, at this moment, two men were hunting him down in the slums of London. He did not care that his own cousin might be seeking to take his life for reasons he could not fathom. He could not even make himself to worry over the difficulties Fitzwilliam must daily endure.
Elizabeth Bennet loves me.
And all was right with the world.