Chapter 8
Hours after he returned from Longbourn, Darcy still could not soothe the tumult in his mind.
Overwhelmed by the news and his own thoughts and feelings, having all that he had previously believed denied, and uncertain of what to do with Elizabeth’s unexpected confession, he sought refuge in his room.
But this time, silence and solitude did not help him very much.
The winter days were short, so darkness fell early and a sensation of weariness overcame him even before dinner.
His emotions concerning Elizabeth — regardless of the sort — were so intense that they tired him.
He pondered whether he should join the others for dinner or ask for something to be brought to his rooms. He had to reflect carefully and make a decision so he could provide Elizabeth and her father with an answer by the next day. An answer that would affect him more than them.
The fact that Mr Bennet had approached him was in itself surprising.
The man was under no obligation to inform him let alone request his opinion — he could have done anything he pleased with his daughter’s confession.
Allowing Darcy to decide was a considerate gesture.
As was Elizabeth’s compassionate concern for his sister’s reputation when she had decided to not disclose that part of the overheard conversation to her father.
And how gently and cleverly she had passed him the information, dissipating his unease.
Elizabeth Bennet was a remarkable woman indeed.
One who allegedly despised him and everybody was aware of that fact, except for him.
A knock on the door and Bingley’s voice startled him from his reverie, and he bade his friend to enter.
“Darcy, dinner will be ready in half an hour.”
“Thank you. You should not have troubled yourself to come here with the message, you could have just sent a servant.”
“I know, of course. I also wished to speak to you for a moment, as I confess to being worried. You have not been behaving like yourself in the last few days. I know you like to keep your own counsel and I hate to be intrusive, but you are my friend and I am your host at Netherfield. I might have overstepped when I sent for Mr Jones, but your hand looked painful. How are you feeling? How is your hand? I feel it is my duty to ensure your wellbeing,” Bingley said in complete earnest.
“My wellbeing is perfectly preserved, I assure you. And I thank you for your concern and friendship. My hand is on the mend, there is no need for you to worry further. As for my conversation with Mr Bennet, I believe you have the right to know, since it might be soon public knowledge.”
“It might? Why is that? What was it about?” Bingley asked, his eyes wide with curiosity. He pulled up a chair and sat, waiting.
“It appears that Miss Elizabeth was witness to my last meeting with Wickham. She unwittingly listened to the entire scene.”
“Miss Elizabeth? But how? Why was she there? Alone? Did you not see her? How was that even possible?”
“Believe me, Bingley, I understand your astonishment perfectly. And I asked Mr Bennet the same questions. The place is one known to her as she walks there often. She had arrived there before me and was resting behind an old oak with a large trunk.”
“How strange, indeed! Are you worried that she heard something of particular importance?”
“I know beyond a doubt that she did hear everything. But I am not worried — I am certain she is trustworthy and wise enough to keep a secret that should not be revealed.”
“I agree. As much as she dislikes you, I do not think she would betray you. And I am glad that, despite your own dislike for her, you are giving her due credit.”
“Good Lord, enough of this!” Darcy replied, exasperated.
“Everybody speaks of the mutual dislike between Miss Elizabeth and me. Where did this come from? I do not dislike Miss Elizabeth at all — quite the opposite! I have enjoyed every conversation we have shared and found many traits worthy of being admired in her.”
Bingley looked at his friend, unconvinced.
“If you do, you have an excellent way of concealing it! I apologise if my statement upset you, but it was an honest observation. Do you not remember that you refused to be formally introduced to Miss Elizabeth, her mother, and her sisters? Or that you refused to dance with her because she was not handsome enough to tempt you? One could barely consider all those things signs of admiration!”
“Bingley, you are talking about my first evening in Meryton, at the assembly. I admit my behaviour was not the best on that occasion, but I hoped I had improved in civility since then.”
“From my observations, you did! But Darcy, who else mentioned that to you? You said ‘everybody’ speaks of it.”
“Mr Bennet. I did not know he was aware of my offence. He actually laughed at me, though he sounded more amused than upset.”
“That must have been unpleasant for you. Mr Bennet finds great enjoyment in teasing people — Jane told me as much. And I have heard him several times — he can be very sharp and even harsh in his witticisms. It seems Miss Elizabeth resembles him, which is exciting but also slightly frightening in a young lady,” Bingley said.
Darcy smiled inwardly. He did not find it frightening at all; if only he could benefit more from Elizabeth’s teasing.
“And? How did your conversation end?” Bingley brought him back to their discussion.
Darcy hesitated a moment, facing his friend pensively.
“It is not over yet. The situation is of a peculiar kind, and I must decide what to do next. Perhaps it is best that you know too, since it might also affect you.”
“Me? In what way? And which situation?”
“Miss Elizabeth suggested that she admit to the magistrate that she witnessed my encounter. Especially eye-witnessing the fact that Wickham left sound and safe after he met me and that she saw him almost reach Meryton that morning.”
“I do not understand,” Bingley replied, intrigued. “Did anyone doubt that? Has anyone suggested that they suspect you? That you might be responsible for Wickham’s death? This is beyond absurd!”
“It is absurd, but many might consider it. I did meet him, my letter was in his pocket, my hand is wounded as though I hit somebody… There is enough evidence, albeit only circumstantial, pointing at me to start speculation. At least it has all happened in Hertfordshire. I would not want Georgiana to hear such foolish gossip when it starts.”
“Well then, Miss Elizabeth’s testimony will certainly clear up any doubts. You must be relieved.”
“Perhaps, Bingley. But I do not wish to be relieved by involving a young lady. The same people starting the idle talk about me could very well turn the rumours on her. I can easily imagine people doubting her statement, then questioning the reason for her presence there or speculating that she came forward to confess because I am your friend and you are a friend of their family, and so on… Such rumours once started would hardly be silenced.”
“I have not considered all this…but I cannot argue with you, Darcy. You might be right.”
“I know I am, and this is why I hesitate. Except for the detail which both Miss Elizabeth and her father pointed out. If the magistrate assumes I am guilty, although it cannot be proved, he, and consequently Colonel Forster, may not be induced to search thoroughly enough for the real culprit.”
Bingley looked baffled again. His eyes had grown so wide it would have been comical if Darcy were inclined to find something amusing about the present situation. “Yes, that is a valid point,” he replied after a brief reflection. “I had not considered that either. So, what will you do?”
“I am not certain yet. I have time to decide before the morning.”
***
In the afternoon, Mr Collins came back to Longbourn, and his return increased Elizabeth’s irritation. The man relentlessly trailed after her while she attempted to avoid him.
Mrs Bennet was Mr Collins’s greatest ally, but she had started to realise that the chances of success in that quarter were slim.
Mr Collins was stubborn in his insistence to pursue Elizabeth, so he foolishly remained oblivious to the fact that Mary seemed to be more inclined to admire him and would likely be happy to accept his courtship.
Mrs Bennet could not decide if she was more annoyed by Mr Collins, agitated about Mr Wickham’s death, or intrigued because of Mr Darcy’s private visit which she could not possibly account for.
Therefore, she chose the worst scenario and imagined it might be somehow connected to Mr Bingley, which worried her excessively.
After they changed for dinner, Jane went directly to the drawing room while Elizabeth visited the library first to talk to her father.
“Did your mother send you to fetch me? Am I late again?” Mr Bennet smiled warmly at her.
“No, Papa. To be honest, I am hiding a little longer before seeing Mama and Mr Collins again.”
“Poor Lizzy,” he joked. “You must be one of the very few young women who dislike being courted by a man who, by all criteria, would be considered eligible.”
“Papa, I am in no disposition for jesting,” Elizabeth replied.
“I am very sorry to hear that, my dear. Had I been a better father, more diligent with my affairs, you would not have been forced to hide from my cousin. All I can do now is to be careful with my health and die as late as possible. I am ashamed to think that, if Bingley does eventually marry your sister, the poor fellow will have to take the burden of our family on his shoulders as soon as I am dead.”
“Papa, this sort of teasing really upsets me. Come, let us go to dinner,” she said, taking his arm and leading him to the door. Her father turned to her just before stepping into the hall.
“I am very proud of you, my Lizzy. And I am not saying this in jest. I would give anything to know you were happy.”