Chapter 3 #2
The rain and Mr. Darcy haunted her until dawn, and in the morning she had fewer tears and less hope. They had to continue their quest by themselves. Mr. Darcy would never help them.
The breakfast table next morning was more animated than Elizabeth expected. When she finally appeared, her uncle had already informed her father about the new possibility rising from a discussion with Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Bennet, however, expressed his doubts and reservations.
“I saw that man a couple of times in Hertfordshire, and he never addressed a single word to me —not to me or any others in the neighbourhood. He only answered Sir William’s direct questions, and from what I heard, his replies were far from polite.
I expect he will treat such a request with indifference and disdain —that is, if we ever come close to his house. ”
“Brother, since both you and Lizzy seem to have a history of dislike for the gentleman, I will take the task upon myself. It is still raining, so please rest. I trust I will come with some details by the evening,” Mr. Gardiner answered.
“Very well, do as you wish. We have nothing to lose anyway,” Mr. Bennet agreed.
An hour later, Mr. Gardiner departed, his first destination being Bingley’s residence on Grosvenor Street.
It was raining for the second day in a row, much to the disappointment of the children who missed their daily visits to the park. The siblings started their lessons with the governess, watched by their mother.
Mr. Bennet retired to the library while Elizabeth moved from one room to another, staring out of the windows and waiting for news she knew would never come. The lack of sleep and fatigue made her even more unsettled, and her mind filled again with the darkest thoughts.
Around noon, she was astounded to see her father prepared to leave.
“Papa, are you going somewhere?”
“Keep your voice low, Lizzy. I do not want your aunt to hear me. I will lose my mind if I stay here without doing anything. I must have some activity. I will hire a hackney coach for the day, and I am going to search a few other inns in the northern part of the city. Every hour counts.”
Elizabeth intended to oppose him, but her father’s distress was painfully obvious, as was his unusual pallor. A quarrel was useless, even more so as she could see the benefits of his plan.
“I believe it is a good idea, but I will come with you. Let me tell Aunt that we are going for a long walk and will return in a few hours.”
“Lizzy, you cannot—”
“Papa, let us not argue and waste precious time. I am determined to come with you!”
Half an hour later, sheltered in a coach, Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth still argued over the propriety of a young woman being involved in such a quest.
“Papa, I am sorry to say so, but with Lydia’s elopement, I see little reason to speak of propriety. What concerns me now is to find her safe and to be certain you are not exhausting yourself and putting your health in danger. Nothing else matters.”
“Dearest Lizzy, I just realised last night that I cannot even afford to die because that would mean leaving all of you without protection, means, or future. I must stay strong, at least until one of you enters into a good marriage —although I doubt you could find a man of sufficient income to support a mother with four other daughters. However, I would have died of grief if you had accepted Mr. Collins. Even the comfort of family safety would not have been worth paying that price. If only Mr. Bingley would return to Netherfield. Oh, dear —do I sound like your mother?” Elizabeth laughed nervously.
“Papa, please do not speak of death! But you must be careful nevertheless. As for marriage, you know our chances were not very high in the past; now, there is little hope of marriage to decent gentlemen. I do not believe we should speak of Mr. Bingley’s return.”
She struggled to conceal her turmoil as she remembered how easy it would have been for her to save her family from distress.
She did receive a marriage proposal —from a man who could afford to support the entire town of Meryton.
But would he have agreed to support the Bennets?
Would he have even allowed her to see her relatives again once they were married?
Surely, no one could imagine Mr. Darcy inviting her mother and younger sisters to Pemberley or carrying on a polite conversation with Mrs. Phillips.
The more she thought of it, the more clear it became to her that such a marriage would have brought nothing positive to her family.
That thought made her bear a little easier the guilt and regrets for not considering the consequences for her family of her refusal.
In truth, the moment she rejected Mr. Darcy and later ripped the letter in his face, she never wondered for a moment about the effect on her parents and sisters.
Did she make the biggest mistake of her life, one she would never be able to repair?
Mr. Darcy —would Mr. Gardiner find him, talk to him? Would he say anything useful for their search?
“Lizzy, this is the first inn. I will speak with the innkeeper. Please stay here. I will return shortly.”
Mr. Bennet’s words startled Elizabeth and awakened her from her musings. She intended to follow him, but her father’s sharp glance changed her mind. There was nothing she could do anyway; the inn’s entrance was only a few steps from the carriage, so she could easily see anything that was happening.
However, Mr. Bennet returned in a few minutes with no result.
Three hours and five inns later, despair enveloped both Elizabeth and her father. Nobody had seen the couple, and nobody had even heard of a Mr. Wickham. There was nothing to be done but return to Gracechurch Street and start looking on the other side of Town the next day.
All their speculations, plans, and hopes were confounded once again. Another day had passed with only more rain, more disappointment, and more fear.
∞∞∞
It was the third day since he received news of Wickham’s elopement with Miss Bennet, and Darcy’s world was shattered.
He had found no rest for the last three nights, and sleep would only steal him on occasion for a few minutes.
Fatigue threw him into a state of torment that kept him frequently in the library while he endured the passing days and nights and waited for the pain to become more bearable.
He did not join his sister and aunt for dinner, and he refused every meal brought by his servants. He demanded that both Watts and Wilson not interrupt him; so, when insistent knocking on the door continued to bother him, he yelled harshly:
“Go away!”
The door opened, and tentative steps were heard. He gazed at the door and attempted to rise as his sister approached.
“Brother, how are you? You look very ill. Has anything happened? I beg you; tell me how I can help you…”
“It is nothing, dearest. I am only busy. I apologise for not coming to see you. Tell me how you have been these last days?”
“It pains me to see that you will not tell me what troubles you so. I know it is something very grave. Have I upset you with our last argument? I would do whatever you say only to see you content. You have not been yourself for more than a year now, and I know it is my fault…”
He gently embraced Georgiana, holding her tightly while he caressed her hair.
“My beloved sister: never, never think I am upset with you! I confess I have been preoccupied with disturbing matters lately, but it will pass soon. I have not joined you for dinner precisely because I know I am poor company. Now, come sit here. Would you like to have a cup of tea with me?”
“Oh yes, I would like that very much.”
“Excellent, let me ring for some refreshment. Have you come alone? Where is Aunt Amelia?”
“I have come with a maid. It is only a short distance distance, as you know. Aunt Amelia is not very fond of this weather.”
“So tell me: How have you been these last days? It is still raining —so no walking in the park, I imagine?”
The siblings spent more than an hour together, each trying to appear cheerful to comfort the other.
“Dearest, what would you say if we moved to Pemberley for the next months? Until spring, most likely. Would you agree? I hope Aunt Amelia will join us too. I know she is not fond of London.”
Georgiana hesitated a moment. “Yes, of course. I will agree to anything you decide.”
“But I really want to know your preference. That is why I am asking you,” he said with a warm smile.
“I love Pemberley, Brother; you know that. I was just wondering…”
“Yes?”
“Would it be possible, do you think, that sometime in the future, I invite someone to keep me company at Pemberley?” the girl asked shyly, barely meeting her brother’s gaze.
His answer also came after a brief hesitation. “Do you have someone specific in mind? Perhaps that new friend, “Miss Lizzy?”
“I confess…I intend to talk to her and tell her my name and to ask for hers. And perhaps we could begin a correspondence. I would enjoy her presence at Pemberley sometime in the future. That is…if she agrees. Aunt Amelia says we should send an invitation to her father to ask for his permission.”
She was obviously struggling to search for the proper words, and Darcy forced a smile.
“Dearest, here is my promise to you: you can always invite anyone to Pemberley, and I will do everything I can to support your decision. I trust your judgment and your wisdom. I only wish to know more about any of our guests, no matter who might invite them. As you know, I only allow our closest acquaintances at Pemberley. That is why I would appreciate all the details about your new friend as soon as you have them. And I would gladly join you in writing to her father when you decide and provide her all the necessary arrangements to travel safely from her house to ours.”
She watched him, her face suddenly bright, her eyes shining with tears. “Thank you so much, Brother!”