Chapter 13 Elizabeth sojourns in Kent and cannot have been always at Longbourn. #2
They were approaching the parsonage when he stopped and turned to face her, taking her hands in his.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, searching her face. He took a deep breath as if preparing to say something of importance.
Just then, Charlotte appeared with Maria, and they quickly broke apart.
Charlotte cheerily invited Mr. Darcy in for tea.
Darcy gave Elizabeth a look that he hoped she would understand and then politely agreed.
Maria approached Elizabeth and linked arms with her, chatting merrily about her day while they walked to the parsonage.
On the way in, Charlotte took Darcy aside and spoke to him in a low voice, “I have seen him again, and he appeared to be following her.”
“Thanks to your servants’ good information, I have been able to anticipate the time she typically walks out.
I have made it my business to watch for her each morning and accompany her.
Thus far, I have been successful. If my aunt has me occupied, I shall have Fitzwilliam watch over her in my stead.
Fitzwilliam has already made inquiries regarding any knowledge of Wickham’s quarters in the area and has his man checking regularly.
If we find him, we shall deal with him.”
“I am grateful for your help. She does not seem to think she is in danger, but I like to remain cautious.”
“I agree.”
That night, Elizabeth felt confused about their discourse. Why can I not settle my feelings about Mr. Darcy?
From the first time she had seen him, she thought him a handsome man with a fine figure, and she was drawn to him, but then he made that hurtful remark.
Mr. Wickham’s story of ill-use by Mr. Darcy prejudiced Elizabeth until her father found out the truth, and then she was embarrassed for having allowed Mr. Wickham to take such advantage of her na?veté.
Elizabeth thought she had seen Mr. Wickham in the garden earlier that day but decided it must have been her imagination due to her mulling over that situation.
Did conjuring up Mr. Wickham and formulating a chastisement in her head for all his ill-treatment mean she must have strong feelings for Mr. Darcy?
She had experienced such a tumultuous mix of interactions with Mr. Darcy.
They had sparred on many occasions, and Elizabeth sometimes found it difficult to reconcile their arguments with other times of repartee that seemed more like flirtation.
And many times, during more private discourse, Mr. Darcy acted almost like a suitor.
He was very attentive during the walk to Longbourn from Meryton when he had so vibrantly portrayed his beloved Pemberley and then asked her to dance the first with him at the Netherfield ball.
Still, he departed soon after the ball without a word.
Her father’s information was that he left due to familial obligations, and she never expected to see him again.
Then they met in Kent, and her feelings had no opportunity to hide from her notice.
Whenever I am with him, my sensibilities are so disturbed. I like him very much but do not know where his feelings lie. When I go out walking in the park, he always seems to meet me at the same place. Is it intentional? Does he walk with me out of friendship, or more?
Much of the time, he seemed to look upon her with detachment, but sometimes she noticed a look of tenderness and could not reconcile the two.
That look he gave her when he said she was one of the handsomest women of his acquaintance—that was not unreadable.
Even now, it made her feel all aflutter inside.
He finally apologised for his unkind comments at the Meryton assembly, he expressed his wishes to renew their acquaintance if he returned to Netherfield, and he said that Elizabeth would like Pemberley when she mentioned she might travel to Derbyshire.
What could he mean? She knew no reason to be invited there.
I do not know if I hope or fear any other intentions.
And what was he about to say when Charlotte interrupted? Had he intended to speak of his regard? His eyes seemed to convey something like that. It made Elizabeth feel a particular affection.
Am I in love with him? Oh, dear!
Later that night, Darcy was deep in thought as he sat in front of the fire in his chambers.
He looked at his brandy as he slowly swirled the liquid in the glass, noting the golden hues drifting languidly around the curved walls, leaving their filmy shadows behind. He pondered Mrs. Collins’s warnings.
Wickham! What is he doing in Kent? I did not fully believe Mrs. Collins when she first mentioned it, but it must be true!
I must protect Elizabeth from him. I know him so well—he is a rake and holds such a grudge.
Without doubt, he will take his revenge on Bennet in any way possible, and I do not want that way to be Elizabeth.
His thoughts followed the direction they usually did when he was alone at night, succumbing to the war of emotions that descended upon him each time he considered the implications of his relationship with Elizabeth.
The candle was guttering, so he set his glass on a nearby table and used a taper to light a new one.
He returned to the settee and continued to ruminate.
Elizabeth. She is the most clever, spirited, loyal, trustworthy, kind, honourable woman of my acquaintance.
She bewitches me with her sparkling humour and enchants me with her spirit.
I have tried so hard to deny it, but now I know that I love her.
What will Georgiana think of her? She will likely approve.
Elizabeth is the best of sisters; I have seen ample evidence of that.
Darcy questioned why he had hesitated to offer for her.
Was he afraid of how his family would react to her relations?
They expected him to marry for rank or wealth, or both—to align with the best families, perhaps the daughter of a peer.
Bennet implied that her fortune was more than rumoured, but fortune mattered little to him; his income and holdings were quite sufficient.
But do I care to meet my family’s aspirations regarding connections? Do I accede to their wishes as is my duty? Is my family’s good opinion so important to me that I would endure a loveless marriage to satisfy their expectations?
No. I want Elizabeth. She will not be surprised; I as good as declared myself today.
How beautiful she is. How I would love to see her silken hair down and spread on my pillow, with her dark eyes full of love. I have seen her form when the sunlight is behind her, and her figure is light and pleasing. I want to see her—to touch her in ways that only a husband should.
With the final realization of the full impact of his fixation, he became resolute.
Damn the family’s aspirations! It does not signify. I shall offer for her at the next opportunity. I need her in my home and in my bed. I shall not rest until I return to Pemberley with Elizabeth as my bride.