Chapter 3 #3
“I would do anything to see you happy. You should always remember that. Now —would you be so kind as to play for me a little? I would really love some music.”
When Georgiana finally returned to her aunt’s house late in the afternoon, Darcy kept her company.
He felt ashamed for the distress that his selfish behaviour had caused his sister again, so he decided to prove to her there was no reason to worry about him.
He tried to have a pleasant conversation with their aunt, shared his plan to return to Pemberley, and had an early dinner with the two ladies.
Darcy was relieved when he was eventually able to retire to his own solitude and silence. His mind —lacking sleep and tormented by dark thoughts —needed rest and quiet. He entered the house and hurried directly to his apartment.
He was surprised and displeased when Watts handed him a note while helping him undress.
“Sir, a gentleman, called on you —a Mr. Gardiner, I believe. He said he had some urgent and important business to discuss with you. He wished to wait, but I told him you would likely not return this evening. I knew you would not want to be disturbed by a stranger. I asked him to leave a note.”
“You did very well, Watts. Indeed, I do not want to talk to any stranger. I cannot imagine what he wanted from me, and I am surely not curious to find out.”
“Very well, sir. Here is the note.”
“Put it there and bring me some brandy. Then you may retire; you are not needed tonight.”
“As you wish…good night, sir.”
Watts left, and Darcy cast only a glance at the piece of paper.
Why would a stranger write him a letter?
The mere thought of reading it recalled Elizabeth: her rejection, her fury towards him, and finally her elopement with the least worthy man in the world.
His memories swung between distress and anger, and he settled his emotions with a glass of brandy —then with another.
Neither his annoyance nor his sorrow vanished; only his body became languid and his senses numbed as he lay on his bed. Once again, dawn found him awake but dreaming.
And his dreams were again filled with countless images of the same sparkling eyes, smiling red lips, soft silky skin, teasing voice, and bright laughing smile —everything he desired and craved but painfully knew he would never have.
In the Gardiners’ house, the adults were gathered in the dining room, sharing their common dejection. None had eaten anything since morning, and still they showed no interest in the food in front of them. The day had been disappointing, all the routes proving to be closed and useless.
Mr. Bennet said almost nothing, drinking absently from his glass while staring at the wall.
“Uncle, I am amazed that you managed to discover Mr. Darcy’s residence in such a short time without any help,” Elizabeth said shyly, tormented and incredulous about the astonishing news. “How can we ever repay your kindness and effort?”
“Do not even mention it, dear,” Mr. Gardiner replied.
“It was nothing of consequence. Even though the Bingleys are out of town for the summer and I could find no help from them, it was rather easy to find Mr. Darcy’s house.
My business partner has connections all around London, and he seems to know everything about everyone. ”
“Except for Lydia and Wickham. Nobody seems to know anything about them,” Mr. Bennet said sternly.
“So, you were not able to speak to Mr. Darcy, but you left him a note?” Mrs. Gardiner inquired.
“Yes. The servant informed me that Mr. Darcy was out for dinner with his sister and was not expected to return soon. I imagine his sister has a house of her own. I wrote Mr. Darcy my name and address, and I expressed my hope that he would allow me a few moments of his time for a matter of life and death —and that I would return tomorrow at noon.”
“I find it a very appropriate note,” his wife approved. “I am certain Mr. Darcy cannot ignore it. I know him to be the son of two very respectable parents; surely, he cannot lack compassion. What do you think, Lizzy?”
“I…we can only hope, Aunt…if only…I pray to the Lord that my uncle will find something tomorrow.”
“I will go again to talk to Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Gardiner said.
“It is fortunate that he is in London. I will find a way to make him speak to me for a few moments. I was tempted to wait outside his house today, but I thought it would be awkward, and it might give him the wrong impression about my behaviour.”
“I doubt he will care about your behaviour, no matter how proper or improper it might be, Brother,” Mr. Bennet interfered coldly.
“Let us go to sleep; this conversation has no purpose and no ending. Tomorrow we will start the search again —from inn to inn, from door to door. Nobody will help us; we must accept the truth.”
The gentleman walked to the door, stepping tentatively as if an unbearable burden were crushing his shoulders. He attempted to close the door behind him, but he leant against the wall as if his knees would not support him.
Elizabeth hurried to him. Mr. Gardiner offered to help his brother-in-law to his room, but Mr. Bennet asked to be left alone.
“Aunt, what is happening with Papa? Should we not call a doctor? He is unwell; I noticed it yesterday. He almost fell…he cannot be well…” Elizabeth spoke tearfully.
“Of course, we will fetch a doctor if needed. But I think my brother is only very fatigued and deeply distressed by worry —as we all are. I am sure he will be fine as soon as we find the smallest indication about the runaway couple. It will do no good if you become unwell too. And I completely disapprove of your being as unwise and incautious as your father, wandering around the most dangerous places in London, Lizzy. I will not allow that again!”
“But how can I be wise and cautious when my father falls ill and my sister is lost forever? How can you even ask this, Aunt? Do you not know how helpless I feel that I cannot do anything? That I am useless?”
Elizabeth’s voice was broken by tears, and her aunt’s caresses did not calm her in the slightest.
“Lizzy my dear, there is nothing more any of us can do but hope and pray for a better day tomorrow. Please sit down; I will return in no time with some herbal tea for you and your father. It will surely help you both to sleep. The dawn will find you more at peace; I promise you.”
“I will go to check on Papa, Aunt. I do not need to sleep or to be at peace. I just need to be certain he is well. And I must do something more than just pray and hope. Papa was right; nobody will help us out of this. We must help ourselves,” Elizabeth whispered, squeezing her fists together with determination, her face paler than ever.
By dawn, it was proven that Mrs. Gardiner could not keep her promise: Elizabeth did not sleep at all and was more disturbed than ever.
The storm in her mind and heart had lasted the entire night, and it was still not settled.
To the common distress of the last days was now added turmoil for the resolution she had taken.
As soon as the sun rose, she would go and see Mr. Darcy! She would go alone without informing any of her relatives and expose herself to his censure and disdain.
She would be at his mercy and would do anything needed to convince him to tell her what she needed to know. No risk, no fear, no concerns could make her change her mind; therefore, nobody would know about her plan.
It would be her secret and his —this second secret, even more painful and burdensome than the first.
The servants were barely awake when Elizabeth asked for her uncle’s carriage to be prepared and left the house.
She wrote a quick note to her aunt, informing her that she needed a ride to clear her mind and asking them to have breakfast without her if she happened to be late.
Mrs. Gardiner would certainly be worried about her actions, but it could not be avoided.
She was aware that the timing was most improper. Besides the shock of seeing her at his door, Darcy would also be astonished and disdainful that a woman could call on him alone at that time of the day. But she had no choice —and nothing to lose.
The ride from Cheapside to the Park Lane area was long, and she needed to be there before he left his house or before he began receiving other visitors.
Her only hope was that he could find enough generosity in his heart to listen to her and to offer her some information about Wickham to direct their search —or to agree to receive her uncle later that day and provide him with the details he might refuse to give her.
The horses moved steadily, and the sound of the carriage disturbed Elizabeth’s thoughts. She was not certain what to expect, but she feared the worst.
“My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost forever,” he had confessed publicly one evening at Netherfield.
That was his general conduct towards ordinary people.
Then how would he react towards someone who had probably hurt and offended him more than anyone else?
Was there something worse than “resentful”?
Another thing that troubled her was the impossibility of expressing her regrets for what had happened between them —not for refusing his marriage proposal but for the gratuitous insult she bestowed upon him and for her insensible reaction to his letter.
She understood that she was wrong soon after the event, just as she recognised weeks ago that she had misjudged Wickham’s character.
But now such a confession was useless, and it would surely bring even more damage to their relationship.
No apologies, no explanations were possible as they would sound insincere.
He would surely take them as a poor attempt to gain his favour and induce him into complying with her plea for help.
There was nothing else to do but to suffer the consequences of her own behaviour and to pay for it.
The carriage stopped in front of the house, and she instructed the coachman to wait a few houses away. She moved hesitantly towards the main door and knocked. A footman appeared, staring at her in puzzlement.
“Yes?”
She cleared her voice and struggled to articulate.
“I am here to see Mr. Darcy.”
“Is the master informed of your visit?”
“No. But I trust he will agree to speak to me nevertheless.”
“Does he know you?’
“Of course. Mr. Darcy has been acquainted with my family and me for more than a year.”
“Very well, I will check to see whether he can receive you. I am not certain that he has even left his apartments yet.”
“Thank you. I know the time is improper for a call, but it is a most urgent and grave matter that can bear no delay. I am confident Mr. Darcy will understand as soon as I explain it to him.”
“I will pass your request forward,” the servant finally agreed, apparently uncertain about his own decision. “May I have your name?”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I will wait outside if necessary,” Elizabeth said, taking a step backward.
The man hesitated only a moment.
“No need, ma’am. I am sure there is no problem if you wait here in the hall.” Elizabeth remained alone, suddenly feeling trapped, a sense of panic enveloping her as she wondered whether she should stay or run away.
She soon heard voices, and a woman of middle age with handsome features and a confident posture appeared, measuring Elizabeth with critical eyes.
“I am Mrs. Gilbert, the housekeeper. I understand you are here to see the master.”
“Indeed.”
“He is being informed as we speak, but I must warn you that it is very unlikely he will receive you without previous notice.”
“I understand that —thank you. I will wait.”
Elizabeth’s kind politeness seemed to gain the housekeeper’s sympathy.
“You should come inside and take a seat. May I offer you tea?”
“I thank you, no. I do not wish to interrupt your daily tasks. I will wait here as long as necessary.”
Elizabeth remained alone again; she clasped her hands together to hide her increasing nervousness. So far, she had found out that he was at home and there was a slight chance she would see him eventually. That was as good news as she could hope for.
To her disbelief, only a couple of minutes later, another servant appeared and bowed to her.
“Miss Bennet, the master awaits you in the library. I will show you to him.”
Her knees weakened, and her steps became unsteady. She prayed she would manage to overcome her turmoil and behave reasonably when she faced him.
The notion that he agreed so quickly to receive her was equally surprising and frightening. Was he willing to learn what she had to say and to offer his help, or had he hurried to see her just for the chance of throwing her out of his house?
The servant stopped in front of an impressive door and opened it slowly. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet to see you, sir.”
She dared to glance inside the room. The curtains were pulled shut, and she could barely see. She only observed a long desk by the window and a figure resting on the chair behind it.
His voice startled her, and cold shivers joined a sudden lump in her throat that left her speechless. The door closed, and a chill darkness held her in its grip.