Chapter 23 #2
“Sir, Georgiana confessed to me that she felt she had slowly lost your affection. Since last winter, she has noticed you spend less time with her. She thought her company was no longer pleasant to you. And then, last April you removed yourself from her presence permanently. She was certain you were still ashamed of her behaviour…of her attempt to elope. You refused to be seen with her at the opera or theatre; you never kept her company when visiting your relatives. Forgive me; I do not want to pain you, and I would not dare to assume anything, but…I fear there might be some misunderstanding here. I feel that she might have misinterpreted the reason for your…distraction, as I find it difficult to believe that you would maintain any grudge against a sister you love and cherish. But somehow, this is what she feels and…I would not dare to tell you all this, but she is uncertain of your feelings. She does know you love her, and she hopes you have forgiven her, but she is still concerned that the disappointment and shame are not forgotten. It pains me to see her suffering, and I would do anything to release her pain…”
He stopped in front of her; she was sitting, and he was standing —tall, dark, unmoved, struggling to breathe.
Her own breathing was irregular, and she clasped her hands together to stop their trembling. She licked her dry lips and spoke hesitantly.
“Perhaps she should know the truth…about the reason for your distress…to be told it is not her fault. Her suffering should be stopped without delay. She confided so much to me that I feel pained and helpless to keep such a secret from her. If the secret were only mine, I would have confessed it to her while we were still at Longbourn’ but I did not imagine… how could I have?”
Her voice became weaker, and his pacing resumed.
“And pray tell me, Miss Bennet, do you believe my sister would feel better if she knew that her brother offered the the most wretched marriage proposal in the world, was refused in the worst possible manner, and then spent the next month behaving like the most ridiculous fool who ever existed? And that her closest friend was involved? Can you be certain that such an endeavour would be successful?”
His voice bore equal anger and bitterness, and Elizabeth was reminded of the day she appeared at his house, asking for help in finding Lydia.
“I am the last man in the world to share such a story with his sister —or any living creature. I wish nothing more than to forget that day and its consequences. How could I possibly relate it to anyone else? And can you imagine what Georgiana might think of you —how this might harm her and make her lose her barely found tranquillity?”
“Mr. Darcy, I was only suggesting that…I do not know, I might be wrong. I did not think of all this. You might be right. I might have only made things worse. I apologise…I should leave now.”
Elizabeth slowly stepped towards the door, unsteady on her feet.
Her intervention had done more harm than good.
She had betrayed Georgiana and only revived tormenting memories for Darcy —and for her.
His reaction was stronger —in a different and painful way —than she ever imagined.
He had not forgotten or forgiven anything; Georgiana was right about that.
Except for the identity of the event that seemed to remain forever vivid in his mind —on that, the girl’s assumption was wrong.
Elizabeth climbed the stairs to her room and walked along the hall, barely supporting herself, so heavy was the burden his words had put on her shoulders.
How could she free herself from it? His torment was still so strong, so overwhelming, that she was certain he still hated her; she could sense his resentment.
She did not miss his reference to “the last man in the world” that she had thrown in his face.
She closed the door to her chamber and sat by the window, staring outside absently.
Why could he not just put aside what had happened?
She did not expect him to forgive her but to forget or dismiss the memories for his own peace of mind.
What kept his anger alive after six months?
Would it only disappear after six years?
Perhaps not. If nothing else, it was his ego, his pride that did not allow him to move forward.
As these thoughts spun in her mind, she grew angry with herself. How dare she judge him?
It was impertinent to question his reaction when she herself could not forget —for six months —his calling her “tolerable” and refusing to dance with her.
When they met in Kent, she still held a grudge against him.
Yes, there had been other things that contributed to her low opinion, but she had never let go of the recollection from that evening.
She had felt offended and slighted, and her ego and pride had been hurt.
What was she to do now? She raised his ire, but he still refused to make any amends to Georgiana.
She wished to help her friend but only made things worse.
Surely, from now on, he would be even less desirous of seeing her, and he would avoid being in her company —and consequently in his sister’s —as long as she remained at Pemberley.
Might it be better if she returned to Longbourn?
Might the siblings manage to strengthen their bond, to understand each other, and to support each other’s happiness once her disturbing presence was gone?
Tears stung her eyes, and she wiped them nervously then took the pins from her hair and pushed the loose strands to her back with the same abrupt gestures.
She put another log in the fireplace then placed her nightgown on the bed.
A gentle knock on the door startled her, and for a moment, she thought it was only her imagination.
The sound repeated, and she opened the door, intrigued, then remained still, any words frozen on her lips, which parted in disbelief.
“May I come in for a brief moment?” Darcy whispered, and she stepped back, still dumbfounded, allowing him to enter.
“Forgive me, Miss Bennet; I will stay only a moment. I know it is preposterous to be here at this hour. If you would only allow me a couple of minutes…”
She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and nodded in agreement.
“Forgive me for entering your chamber, but I was afraid we might be heard…or seen…”
“It is fine, sir; do not worry…” she finally murmured.
“Miss Bennet, I must beg your forgiveness for my behaviour…and for my thoughtless reply to your genuine concern for my sister’s well-being. I had no right to say those things…they are of no help to anyone…”
“Sir, I —”
“I spent many months worrying about Georgiana…but I could not force her to confess to me what was troubling her. I reproached myself many times…all the time…for not being more careful with her…for not guessing the degree of her turmoil. I withdrew from her because I knew I was a horrible companion to her. I did not want to distress her even more with my poor mood. I did not realise that my behaviour was precisely the reason for her torment.”
He spoke while looking from her to the fireplace, then to the window, then back to her again, as if he could not bear to hold her eyes for too long. And her feelings were the same. She was grateful when his glance freed hers so that she could observe his pale countenance and fallen shoulders.
“Sir, I know self-reproach only too well. We need not speak of it anymore; nor should we mention forgiveness or apologies. All I wish is to make certain Georgiana is well...”
“And I thank you for that. I am truly grateful for the affection you have for my sister despite everything that has occurred between us —and at times, still does. I know it is my fault —”
“We should not speak of faults either —yours or mine —or we will not end this conversation before breakfast,” she interrupted him, attempting a jest to alleviate his distress.
“Yes, well…I should leave now…”
“Yes…it is very late. I thank you for coming here…to clarify the misunderstanding.”
“I did it only for selfish reasons. I could not possibly have slept a single minute after our conversation…after my reaction.”
“Your reason might have been selfish, sir, but I assure you I benefited from it at least as much as you did.”
“Very well then…I shall see you in the morning. Good night, Miss Bennet.”
“Good night, Mr. Darcy.”
He left and closed the door behind him slowly.
The silence of the room enveloped Elizabeth again, but this time her soul was light, and the storm inside her mind quieted.
She glanced at the closed door then at her own image in the mirror, and only then did she notice her hair falling freely down her back and the dress lowered from her right shoulder.
Her cheeks and neck turned crimson, and her skin shivered at the mere thought that he had seen her in such disorder. She changed her clothes, still flushed, and quickly lay in bed, wrapping herself in the bedclothes.
How easily he could change her state of mind and heart; how little was needed for him to free her from that weight.
With a few words, he placed the burden on her shoulders, and with a few words, he removed it.
If he had not come, her night and likely future days and nights would have been filled with sorrow.
How different everything was —she was —after spending only a few moments with him.
He said he had come for selfish reasons, and he admitted he could not have found rest otherwise.
He seemed to feel the same way she did. But did he truly?
And had he come only for his own peace of mind, or did he consider hers too?
She closed her eyes, thinking of the impropriety of his being in her room in the middle of the night.
That alone would be reason for distress when they met again in daylight.
But even more embarrassing was the recollection that she had presented him an improper picture of herself.
However, she likely worried for no reason.
Surely, he never noticed her appearance, as preoccupied as he was with his apology.
At that comforting thought, she finally fell asleep without imagining that, only a short distance away, Darcy spent another restless night, haunted by a painful conversation and by long, dark hair caressing a bare shoulder.