Chapter 29
A blush spread across Elizabeth’s face as she read Jane’s letter.
It seemed that Mr. Darcy’s family had some knowledge of his preference for her.
Jane had written of her suspicion about the gentleman’s regard and entreated her to let him down gently.
Her dear sister was only aware of her initial dislike of the gentleman and was worried that his attachment was doomed for failure and heartache.
Jane’s sympathy towards Mr. Darcy reminded her of Hunsford; she felt ashamed at how heartless and cruel she had been.
She thought back to her rather unexpected encounter with the gentleman after her arrival in Hampshire.
For someone so cruelly judged, he had been polite and courteous to her every time they were in company.
Recently he had given in to a more flirtatious behaviour and openly accepted his preference for her, which had flattered, but today confused her.
How could he, after having been treated so abominably, still continue to love her?
Elizabeth thought back to all her recent conversations with Mr. Darcy and finally understood that the gentleman was probably waiting for some encouragement from her.
She carefully examined all their interactions, and then, with a start, got up from the bench in the back garden and walked purposefully to find the gentleman.
She had been concerned about his contempt for her family but Jane’s letter had demonstrated that she need not have worried.
His exalted relations had been welcoming to her relations in trade.
She needed to speak to him and somehow make him understand that he had her deepest admiration and devotion.
It was considered a gentleman’s prerogative to express his feelings, but Elizabeth was sure that after their tumultuous past, it was up to her to convey her regard.
She had crossed the boundary of polite discourse when she had insulted him after his proposal; now she just needed to be bold enough to admit her errors and convey her budding feelings.
She walked past the house, hoping to find the gentleman somewhere in the fields, when she was interrupted by Mrs. Ashcombe.
“Miss Bennet, whatever is the matter? You look to be in a rush.”
“I beg your pardon, madam, but I was hoping to find Mr. Darcy. I had a very illuminating letter from my sister and would like to have his opinion,” Elizabeth answered, hoping the lady would guide her in the correct direction.
“Darcy is in his study at the dower house; he did not ride out today.”
“Oh! Well then, I will speak to him when I next see him. Perhaps I am making a bigger fuss, and the matter will not be of the same importance to him,” Elizabeth replied, losing some of her courage.
“My dear girl, I am sure Darcy will be inclined to listen to anything that you have to say. Why do I not accompany you to the dower house? I would also like your opinion on how the front parlour is coming along,” Mrs. Ashcombe said, taking both of Elizabeth’s hands in her own.
The lady was sure that whatever had incited the urgency in Miss Bennet to seek out her nephew was very much to his advantage, and she would not let her rethink her decision.
Darcy was staring out the window of his study, contemplating a letter from Bingley.
In all the years of their friendship he could not recall ever receiving such a legible note from his friend.
Bingley was notoriously careless in his letter writing and most of his missives had words crossed out or blotted, but not this time.
This change in itself communicated his friend’s unease and deliberation while writing to him; the problem was that Darcy was unable to comprehend the situation at all.
Bingley had written that he and Miss Bennet had rather by chance come upon his cousin the Colonel, which was unremarkable in itself, but later the Colonel had called on Miss Bennet at her uncle’s house and had even had his mother invite the lady and her aunt to an exclusive soiree.
Bingley was worried that the Colonel was interested in Jane and had written asking Darcy’s guidance; for he did not consider himself a good rival for an Earl’s son, albeit a second son.
Darcy was sitting with a blank paper in his hand, trying to write to his cousin, but had not the faintest idea where to begin.
It was unlike Richard to pursue a lady, no matter how beautiful, who was being courted by another; that too, a lady without any fortune, for his cousin did not have much of an inheritance.
Also, Richard was not one to be impressed by a lady’s beauty to the extent of inviting her to his parent’s house.
A rather alarming prospect occurred to Darcy that his cousin might be interested in Miss Elizabeth.
He had never intimated to Richard about his partiality for the lady and his cousin had spent a good amount of time in conversation with her at Kent.
It could be argued that Miss Elizabeth would be more inclined to consider his cousin as a potential husband than himself, for she always had a ready smile for the Colonel.
They had similar temperaments and Elizabeth was not one to be impressed by wealth and riches.
Darcy suddenly found his throat dry; he could not imagine having Elizabeth as his cousin’s wife.
Richard was as close to him as a brother and to have Elizabeth as his wife would be a torture; to see her smiles and blushes directed at another—even someone as dear as Richard—would destroy him from within.
He closed his eyes as his hand gripped the armrest of his chair; even the thought of Elizabeth with anyone else was torturous, especially when he had been sure that she had softened towards him.
He got up and walked to the window, looking at the fields outside, where he had shared multiple walks with the only lady he had ever loved.
“Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Ashcombe is asking for you in the front parlour,” the housekeeper interrupted his reverie.
Taking a deep breath, he brought himself under control as he turned and with a nod, acknowledged her, then made his way towards the front parlour. As he entered the room, he was surprised to see Elizabeth pacing with nervous energy and his aunt nowhere in sight.
“Miss Bennet, I was informed that my aunt wanted to speak to me.”
“I am sorry for the deception, sir. I wished to speak to you and Mrs. Ashcombe was kind enough to escort me here. She is upstairs checking the progress of the renovations.”
Nervousness gripped him at this statement. Did she mean to warn him off? She was not her usual smiling self; gathering his courage, he finally spoke, “I am at your service, madam; hopefully, I have not offended you in some way?” He could feel his voice shaking as he said the last part.
“No, of course not!” Elizabeth exclaimed.
“I received a letter from my sister Jane; she had recently become acquainted with your cousin the Colonel, and attended a soiree at your aunt’s house.
While I do wish to discuss the particulars of her letter with you, it occurred to me as I was reading her letter that I had yet to apologise to you for my unjust accusation and highly inappropriate outburst towards you in Kent. ”
“Miss Bennet, I assure you that you owe me no apology,” Darcy replied, still trying to understand all that she was saying.
“Please, Mr. Darcy, I beg you to let me speak before I lose my courage. I was quick to assign blame for all your imagined offences and would like to be equally vocal in expressing my deepest respect and admiration for your honourable nature and upright personality. I was wrong to judge you by one rude comment, which was obviously made in haste, and was no true reflection of your feelings. The truth is that you wounded my vanity and I retaliated by assigning every dishonourable motive to you. I was wrong, so very wrong, and I am deeply ashamed of the way I have behaved.”
Darcy could hardly believe his ears; Elizabeth was apologising to him when he was the one to insult everyone and everything that she had held dear.
Her words about admiring him slowly registered in his stunned mind.
Suddenly it occurred to him that she was overwrought and would surely need reassurance.
He went up to her and, with slow, deliberate movements, took both her hands in his, “Did you say that you admire me, Miss Elizabeth?” he said as a soft smile spread across his countenance.
Elizabeth could hardly meet his eyes; she had meant to convey admiration for his character, but could not deny his statement, her face turned deep red, much to Darcy’s delight, as he brought her hands to his lips and bestowed a slow kiss on each of them.
“What is going on here?”
Both Darcy and Elizabeth jumped apart at Mrs. Hardwicke’s words from the door of the parlour.