Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
T he light from the single burning candle danced on the floral pattern papered on the walls of the guest room Elizabeth shared with Jane. Elizabeth lay awake in contemplation as, across the room, her sister plaited her hair to prepare for sleep.
Jane’s gentle smile was reflected in the glass and Elizabeth smiled uncomfortably back at her. The dam holding back her emotions was near to breaking, and a single tear ran down her cheek. Jane was adept at reading her expressions and hurried her preparations to join her.
Jane held her as she shed tears for the life she would never have.
“Do you care for him?”
“He is to marry his cousin,” Elizabeth answered.
Jane smoothed Elizabeth’s hair off her face and continued softly, “I cannot imagine him engaged to his cousin after what I have now witnessed. What honourable man, engaged to one lady, would also openly show preference for another as he did tonight?”
“It is just like you to see only the best in people. You think that if you will, but I cannot allow my mind to travel down that path, no matter how greatly I wish you to be right,” Elizabeth confessed.
“I do think him more honourable than you are suggesting. And I believe you know it too, but I understand why you would prefer to guard your heart. I should have protected myself thus,” Jane replied.
“Perhaps—or perhaps not. Was it not a lovely season in your life to be wooed by Mr Bingley? I would not trade my time in Kent…even if heartbreak shall be the price.”
“It is a special memory—one that will sustain me for some time. I can only hope there shall be another…one day. I have been quite devoted to forgetting Mr Bingley these last months.”
Elizabeth mumbled a response and snuggled into Jane, stretching her cold feet into the warmth of her sister’s legs. “Lizzy!” Jane stifled her laughter, and she pushed her further away across the bed. Both girls fell into a fit of hushed giggles that took their breath away the longer they tried to restrain their volume.
“I know you are full of uncertainty now, but I assure you, I know what I saw. Mr Darcy cares for you. I only hope he will have the strength Mr Bingley did not—to take action in the direction of his own preferences.”
“And how could he make a decision of that nature, dear sister? To go against his family? To break a lengthy betrothal to his own cousin? To choose someone of no connexions who brings no fortune to a marriage? It would be absurd,” Elizabeth replied. “And do not placate my vanity, for I am aware I would bring nothing to a marriage with Mr Darcy. ”
“Perhaps he simply needs you ?”
If only , Elizabeth thought. “Do you think he will call?”
Jane squeezed her hand and replied, “Nothing could keep him away.”
The sound of a carriage followed by a knock on the front door interrupted the ladies’ conversation the next afternoon as they enjoyed their individual pursuits in the drawing room. Mrs Gardiner set aside her embroidery and shared a glance with Elizabeth, who closed her book. Anticipation coursed through Elizabeth’s veins. Has he come so soon?
The ladies awaited the arrival of their visitor’s card, and once proffered to their aunt, she rose quickly and responded, “Do show him in, immediately.”
The other ladies rose as well, exchanging subtle smiles between them, readying themselves for his entry.
Through the door came not Mr Darcy, but their own father. Mr Bennet looked weary as he greeted them, and Mrs Gardiner was quick to send for some refreshments for him.
“Might you allow me the use of your husband’s study? I require an audience with my daughter.”
Mr Bennet gave Elizabeth a pointed look, and when her aunt approved his request, he tilted his head in the direction of her uncle’s study, an indication that Elizabeth should make haste. Jane and Elizabeth exchanged glances of curiosity as Elizabeth began to follow her father out of the room.
Behind them, Mrs Gardiner said, “I shall send a note to Mr Gardiner to announce your arrival.”
“There is no need,” Mr Bennet responded curtly. “I shall not remain long. I must return home shortly and will take the girls with me. You might have Jane begin overseeing the packing.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest or express her shock but something in her father’s air told her she must not. Meekly, she went to the study with him, took a seat, and awaited the tea that was brought to them moments later, fixing her father’s cup as she knew he liked it. He cradled the cup in his hands and gave her a hard look. As was his nature, he let the silence curl around the room until she felt nearly squeezed by the words unspoken between them.
He would wait her out, she knew it, so she finally spoke. “Papa?”
“Perhaps you can account for the arrival of a Lady Catherine de Bourgh who appeared on our doorstep just yesterday bringing with her a report of your behaviour while in Kent. Behaviour of a most alarming nature, I believe were her words.”
“What?” Elizabeth sputtered. “Indeed, I cannot, sir.”
He set his cup aside and levelled a stern glance at her. “I would not have imagined it possible that my second eldest—nay, my most sensible daughter—would be having secret assignations with a gentleman in the woods. With Mr Darcy? You do not even like the gentleman! No. I should never have believed it—not of you. Of my Kitty or Lydia, perhaps I might have expected it, but you? I had thought you better, Lizzy.”
Assignations in the woods? Memories of the kiss flooded her. But they had not been seen! Surely, if they had, Lady Catherine would have confronted her immediately.
“My defence of you was absolute,” Mr Bennet continued. “I made it clear I would not allow her ladyship, no matter her status and connexions, to speak badly of you. It was not until she produced a letter from my daughter’s dearest friend—a letter in Mrs Collins’s handwriting—that documented all she knew of these secret meetings.”
Charlotte! Elizabeth’s stomach dropped and flipped violently, and for a moment, she thought she would be sick. What had Charlotte done? Horrified indignation would not allow her to continue in silence, “It is not—not what it appears.”
“Did the gentleman lure you into the woods? Have you been harmed in any way?”
She shook her head, no .
“So, you cannot deny it?”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, not knowing what she would say, but Mr Bennet continued, “No. I do not want to hear of it. You have ruined, perhaps, your future and that of your sisters, and have brought scandal upon us all. I have her word that if I bring you home, and you cease all contact with the gentleman, she will hush up this entire business. And you had better hope with every fibre of your being that she can.”
Elizabeth could not meet his eyes, blinking rapidly in a pathetic plea for her tears to retreat.
“I am ashamed of you, in a way I thought I never should be. You will join your sister in packing your things. We depart immediately,” he said forcefully, and dismissed her with nary a kind glance.
Elizabeth nearly stumbled up the stairs, moving as quickly as possible. Her father rarely stirred himself from his book room and had ever been an idle disciplinarian—and never towards her. She had been under the impression she could do no wrong in his eyes.
When she was punished as a child by her mother for her wild behaviour, he would laugh. When Lydia was too forward with the militia officers, he turned a blind eye. When Bingley left Jane heartbroken, he shut the door to the book room to avoid his wife’s complaints. That he had roused himself to travel to London on her behalf was astonishing, and only increased her guilt for her part in the whole affair.
But shame was only some portion of what she was feeling. The betrayal of her former friend was a deep wound. That Charlotte would go to such efforts to harm her and threaten her family’s standing in the world was unimaginable, to say nothing of unpardonable. Elizabeth was certain her heart could take no more of such duplicity.
Across town, Darcy was ensconced in his study, trying to focus on a letter from his solicitor, but found his thoughts were filled with only Elizabeth. He was relieved that travel to Hertfordshire would be unnecessary. That she had been somewhat receptive to his attentions at the theatre was encouraging.
While he desired to relish and think on the moments she had seemed most attentive, there was no denying that she treated him more cautiously than she had in Kent. She did not appear put-off, as Mrs Collins had implied; however, he knew there was something. Had it been the crowd? Or her family’s presence? Or was it he she was uncertain of?
Had his forward behaviour hurt her? Darcy was a tangle of emotions, but no matter the direction of his mind, the result was the same—he would do everything in his power to earn her trust, should she allow it. There was nothing he desired more.
He would call on her. He would introduce her to Georgiana—perhaps even his aunt, Lady Matlock. He would lay a foundation of trust and show her the life he intended to bestow upon her. He hoped one day she might love him as ardently as he loved her.
He attempted to shake off such thoughts and focus on the business at hand when he heard the front door and the sound of footsteps rushing towards his study. He had little time to anticipate his guest’s arrival, for only moments later Lady Catherine entered unannounced.
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” his butler declared, arriving only steps behind her.
Darcy stood and nodded to Ebright that all was well, thankful that the butler was already acquainted with his aunt. He bowed, then motioned for her to take a seat in front of his desk. She declined.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” From the high colour on her cheeks and the glitter of anger in her eyes, he had already deduced it was not to be a social call.
“I have been very lenient. I have been patient and understanding, and I daresay, so has Anne. I shall do everything in my power to ensure the scandal travels no further than Kent, but you must be more cautious, more discerning in your choices. I expected better of you than this.”
“I do not have the pleasure of understanding what you are speaking of. May I ring for some tea?”
She shook her finger in his direction, her eyes narrowed. “You understand perfectly. I will not allow Anne to be thrown over by this little dalliance with Miss Bennet. Her father has agreed to bring her home and hush this entire thing up.”
“Pardon me?”
“You hear me clearly. Pray, do not feign confusion, Nephew.”
Darcy took a step towards his aunt. “When were you in company with Mr Bennet? ”
“I travelled to Hertfordshire and spoke to him just yesterday.”
The insolence! Keeping his calm was becoming untenable. “What exactly did you say to Miss Bennet’s father?”
“I told him everything,” she retorted angrily. “The entire county is aware of your secret assignations in the woods. You are the talk of both my household and the parsonage. No doubt the servants have spread the news far and wide! Mrs Collins confirmed the details and has even provided me a written account, which I flatter myself, was helpful when speaking to Mr Bennet.”
His shock was so great that he was left frozen in place. “Secret assignations! A written account? By Mrs Collins?”
“Do stop repeating everything I say, Darcy. It is vexing,” she replied with a sniff. “I shall tell you what I told her father. I have paid these servants for their loyalty. The scandal must be contained! The written account will never be known beyond myself, Mrs Collins, and Mr Bennet.”
“Which is it?” he demanded. “Is it a scandal reaching every corner of the county, or have you contained it by paying off your servants? It cannot be both.”
“No matter. In return for my efforts, I shall expect Anne to be married by the end of the year. We will begin plans for an autumn wedding. If not, I shall know what to do.” Brandishing a letter in her fist and tapping it upon the table, she added, “I need not remind you that if this letter gets out, your precious Miss Bennet will be ruined.”
“You would ruin an innocent young lady to further your desire to join Pemberley and Rosings? You know very well that neither Miss Bennet nor I would—”
She dropped the letter on the table. “Feel free to read the written account yourself. Mrs Collins had it from Miss Bennet herself. I take no joy in exaggeration. It is all here.” She pointed at the letter. “And do not think about burning it. I required she make a second copy which is safely guarded in Kent.”
Darcy was disgusted. “I have no need to read Mrs Collins’s letter. Whatever it says must be a gross exaggeration to garner this attention. It is nothing but a terrible campaign to ruin an innocent young lady’s reputation, and I will not stand for it.”
“You will do your duty.” Each word was bitten off. “And if you do not, Miss Bennet and her family will suffer.”
Darcy began to pace the room. He held his tongue; he was long used to biding his time and choosing his words carefully, and this scene could be no different. An outright refusal to submit to her demands would harm Elizabeth. He would not allow his anger to make the situation any worse than it already was. Every response provided to his aunt could be twisted and misconstrued or could entice her to harm Elizabeth.
If he knew her heart...but no, he did know her heart. She had disliked him, been offended by him, and at length, had fled Kent to get away from him. Even this—clearly she had confided in her friend, but why? He knew enough of her to know that if she considered him as a suitor, she would have kept it to herself. She must have confided in Mrs Collins from distress over his attentions.
He thought of her again, at the theatre. Perhaps it had not been merely reticence, but distaste? The thought pained him.
He glanced at Lady Catherine who seemed visibly swelled with the sense that triumph was near. He would do nothing that would lead his aunt to commit any additional damage; especially since any truth to her claims was entirely his fault. He would protect Elizabeth at all costs, even if it meant stepping back .
He would let her go.
She did not deserve his aunt’s derision, nor anyone’s. Ruining her reputation would not only hurt her, but it would be like a fire, consuming everyone connected to Elizabeth until they were left smouldering from the heat of it. There would be a pile of ash where sterling reputations had once been. He had no intention of marrying Anne, but his object at that moment must be to placate his aunt and see her on her way back to Rosings Park.
“What say you?” she cut into his wondering thoughts.
“I will not dignify you with an answer to your defamatory accusations.”
“Hear me now, Darcy. You will announce your betrothal, or I shall know how to act.”
“Your position is understood. Now, I shall have to ask you to leave as I have much business to attend to before travelling to Derbyshire.”
“You will not distract me from my purpose.”
“Hear me , Lady Catherine. I shall not follow Miss Bennet. You may be certain of that. I shall do nothing to give you cause to ruin her reputation. And I shall write to Anne when I reach Pemberley.”
The taut outrage left her; Lady Catherine smiled. “You are a good boy, Darcy. I knew you would be prevailed upon to do what was right.” With that, she picked up the letter from his desk and departed, contented and smiling.
Darcy rang for Ebright and requested his bags be packed and the carriage be readied for departure. He would leave for Pemberley at first light. There no longer remained a reason for him to stay on in London.