Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
E lizabeth sprinted towards the oak tree. The cold wind whipped her face and stung her lungs, and the only sounds she heard were her panting breaths and her boots pounding the ground.
Upon reaching the tree, she tagged it and ran past it before slowing her pace. After stopping, she laughed at herself, thankful no one was around to witness her actions, for she was certain she had the appearance of a lunatic. Recovering her breath, she walked towards a stump, sat down upon it, and began observing the quiet country scenery around her. Wind rustled through the bare-branched trees around her as she gazed upon the snow-covered fields. Slowly, the peace she had gained from running faded, as did her smile, and her mind quickly filled with memories from the last few days, from her stay at Netherfield until Jane’s wedding on Saturday. It was the last time she had seen Mr Darcy, as he had not attended church services. It was now Monday, and she could not help but assume he had left Meryton.
If Royce was not already at Longbourn, she knew he would be there soon to offer her his hand in marriage. Though still heartbroken, she knew she had made the right decision to let go of Mr Darcy. No matter how much it hurt now, she would move on. She would always love him, but they could not have had a happy marriage if trust, and her family and his dislike of them, was a wedge between them.
She stood, took a deep breath, and began the walk back to Longbourn to see Royce. Her mind inexplicably jumped to a scene in one of her father’s history books, of Anne Boleyn walking towards the executioner. She cast the thought aside and marched towards and into the house.
To her surprise there was a loud commotion from within the drawing room. After hanging her coat, she entered the room, expecting—nay, dreading—that she might find Royce; to her relief he was absent, and instead, her entire family, including the Gardiners and their three daughters, were there making a fuss about something. Mr Andrews stood beside Lydia, smiling happily. Kitty was on the periphery of the activity, and Elizabeth asked her as to why there was so much excitement.
“You have not heard? With as much as you and Mr Darcy are in each other’s confidences I would have expected that you would have already known.”
Her stomach lurched at the mention of him. “What is it?”
“At the wedding, Mr Darcy pulled Mr Andrews aside and offered him the living as a clergyman in Kympton—at the church he attends regularly, in fact. Mr Andrews’s income will now be enough to support him and Lydia. He proposed this morning, Papa consented, and they just announced their happy news.”
Elizabeth covered her mouth in disbelief. She was delighted for Lydia, even if she worried about her age and her readiness to be a wife, but it was a good match for her sister and she would be happy. She quickly went to congratulate the happy couple, and after so doing, retreated to her room.
She sat on her bed and could only stare at the wall in contemplation. Why would Mr Darcy do such a thing? Though much reformed, Lydia remained the most officious, the wildest of all her sisters. She often skirted the rules of propriety, was loud, untamed, and unrepentant in most of her mischief. After everything she had told Mr Darcy, he must have known Mr Andrews would propose to Lydia after receiving the offer.
And now Mr Darcy will find himself in Lydia’s presence constantly. Elizabeth did not know whether to laugh or cry about that. It must try his patience to be with her, and he would surely feel concern of exposing his sister to such an acquaintance. Why would he do this?
She thought it over without devising any suitable explanation when she heard a knock on the door which interrupted her thoughts.
“Yes?”
It was her aunt Gardiner. A shadow of concern lay beneath her eyes as she asked, “May I come in?” At Elizabeth’s encouragement, she came and sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes met her niece’s as she remarked, “I was quite shocked to hear the news of Lydia and Mr Andrews.”
“Yes, it has been obvious to everyone for quite some time that they preferred each other. But this happy outcome is so sudden…” Elizabeth furrowed her brows as she co ntemplated Mr Darcy’s role in bringing about Mr Andrews’s ability to marry Lydia.
Her aunt cast her a searching look. “Does it upset you?”
Elizabeth let out a soft, half-hearted laugh. “No, although I do believe Lydia is quite young to be marrying, she and Mr Andrews truly love each other. And it is a far better match than I could have ever expected for her.”
Mrs Gardiner’s gaze lingered on her, but neither spoke further. They sat in silence; the only sounds that could be heard were muffled voices drifting up from the drawing room. Elizabeth’s sadness overcame her again and she looked down at her hands. She desired to release the secret that she had kept for better than three years but hardly knew how, or if, she should. She said a quick prayer for guidance on whether she should remain quiet or confide in her aunt.
Her aunt’s next words decided her course.
“Lizzy, dear, I only came up here because…” she said gently. “Well, is there something you would like to speak to me about? I have felt you have not been your usual happy self these past weeks—even Lillian has noticed it—you have seemed to me rather melancholy since returning from Netherfield.”
As often happens when finally releasing a secret, Elizabeth wept before she could speak audibly. Her aunt held her hands while she cried and waited patiently for her niece to regain equanimity.
Once able to speak, Elizabeth told her everything. Her history with Mr Darcy, her reawakened feelings, the events that occurred at Netherfield, and her decision to let him go and accept Mr Royce when he came to ask for her hand. Only the deeply personal and intimate details of her moments with Mr Darcy in the rainstorm at Rosings and in Jane’s new carriage did she keep to herself. Some things were too precious to bandy about, even to a beloved aunt.
When she finished, Elizabeth took a deep breath. Already she felt soothed from the mere act of sharing her burdens with another. Aunt Gardiner was quiet for a moment. “You have been holding on to a great deal, darling Lizzy.”
“You must think I am the biggest fool.”
“I could never think you were a fool. You have had some very hard decisions to make.”
“Do you think I have made the right choice?”
“In choosing Mr Royce? Or letting go of Mr Darcy?”
Elizabeth considered that for a moment before answering, “Both.”
Mrs Gardiner grew thoughtful for a moment, her hand smoothing down a bit of the counterpane next to her. “I suppose that I think it is a surprise.”
“A surprise? What is?”
Her aunt studied her before answering, “I have never known you to make decisions from a place of fear or resentment.”
“I am not afraid or resentful,” Elizabeth replied. “I simply do not trust Mr Darcy. I think it would be foolish if I did not learn from the way he treated me before.”
“If he had not changed at all, I would see what you mean, perhaps even agree with you. But you did see a change in him, yes?” On Elizabeth’s nod, she continued, “I have thought him a rather agreeable, if slightly taciturn, man. He is very high, as you know, and yet condescended to play with my daughters. He has been unfailingly polite to your family, and has taken your verbal barrages quite in stride it seems.”
Elizabeth felt herself nearly sinking under the weight of the truth Mrs Gardiner spoke and still her aunt had not finished.
“He encouraged Mr Bingley to propose to Jane, cared for Mary when she was ill, and offered Lydia’s beau employment so that they could marry. As an unbiased observer, he does not appear prideful. Indeed, he seems quite gentle and kind.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I agree he has acted generously, but you do not know what it was like for me. We were on the verge of an engagement. I was so devastated by his spurning me, it took months of pretending to be in good spirits, and trying to forget him…it was a terrible, dark time of my life.”
“Are you so determined to punish him for hurting you that you will not see that he has altered? And in being wilfully blind, you will let your own happiness pass you by?”
Is that what I am doing? Is happiness passing me by?
Her aunt patted her hand. “I think you are acting quite rationally, which would make sense, as it is how most people approach decisions after a big heartbreak. You are trying to balance heart versus head, and that is not easy.”
“Anyone can be kind for a few weeks. How can I know with certainty that he could suffer my family on a regular basis? And that he would not grow to hate me because of them eventually?” Her voice shook. “What if he were to hurt me again? I do not know whether I could endure it.”
“There will always be some risk associated with true love. To make oneself vulnerable is part of what makes the outcome so rewarding.”
After both were quiet and reflective for a few moments, her aunt shifted on the bed. “I will support you in whatever you decide. But I ask you to reflect on this. If you choose Mr Royce, you still cannot completely shield your heart. If the two of you were to have children, you would still be vulnerable to pain. Your children will always have your whole heart, even if your husband does not. Loving your children can open you up to more pain than you ever thought possible, but more joy as well.” Elizabeth noticed tears brimming in her aunt’s eyes as she spoke. She cleared her throat and with a wry tilt of her head, she said, “Perhaps you will decide that is too much for you as well and you will marry but not have children? But what of your family whom you already love? You will always be vulnerable to pain there. Lizzy, unless you completely isolate yourself from others, you cannot control who has the ability to hurt you. Grief and heartache come hand in hand with love.”
Mrs Gardiner rose, kissed her on the head, and walked to the door. Pausing, she turned back. “You are angry with him and still heartbroken for how he treated you. But it was more than three years ago. You do not have to stay that way forever.”
She then quietly exited the room.
Elizabeth stared into the silence. She leant her head against the bedpost and closed her eyes in contemplation. A moment later—or perhaps an hour, she had no sense of how much time had passed—she opened her eyes and looked over to the table where she saw the book Mr Darcy had returned to her after the wedding breakfast. She reached over and picked it up, gently running her fingers over it. It was not far from her mind that he had been the last person to touch it.
Mindlessly she opened the cover, and as she did, a letter slipped out. ‘ Miss Elizabeth’ was written neatly across the front of the paper in a familiar, undeniably masculine hand that made her gasp. She looked at it for long minutes until at length, she picked it up and unfolded it.
She had scarcely read the salutation before a knock on the door made her jump and quickly shove the pages behind her pillow. “Come in!”
It was Mary. “Mr Royce is here and he wishes to see you.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes a moment, feeling dread, fear, confusion, dismay…everything in a tumult in her mind. For a brief moment, she considered sending him away, telling Mary that she was unwell and asking her to pass along the message. But no, she could not. It was time to face the consequences of her fear. She opened her eyes and cleared her throat. “Thank you, Mary. I will be down in a moment.”