Chapter 9 #2
Her effort to understand the meaning of such astounding disclosures and her struggle to admit the truth of the revelations left Elizabeth dizzy and spent.
She went through the letter several more times with a contrariety of emotion excited by every sentence.
Her feelings as she read were scarce to be defined.
Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think without feeling that she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, and absurd. Yes, Mr Darcy’s behaviour was nothing but faulty. But hers was no better.
From herself to Jane and from Jane to Bingley, she thought differently of Darcy’s explanations.
He declared himself to have been totally unaware of her sister’s attachment, and she could not help remembering what Charlotte’s opinion had always been.
Reluctantly, she admitted that Jane’s feelings, though fervent, were little displayed and that there was a constant complacency in her air and manner not often united with great sensibility.
The part of the letter in which her family were mentioned in such mortifying terms merited scolding; nevertheless, her sense of shame was severe.
The justice of the charge struck her as too powerful for denial.
He mentioned in the letter that her behaviour and Jane’s were always beyond reproach, and the compliment was not unfelt.
It soothed, but it could not console her for the contempt that had been thus self-attached by the rest of her family.
The conclusions had a devastating effect on her.
Yes, Mr Bingley had been in love with Jane.
And yes, Mr Darcy was the main person responsible for their separation.
But Jane’s disappointment had in fact been the work of her nearest relations and reflected how materially the credit of both must be hurt by such impropriety of conduct.
Elizabeth felt depressed beyond anything she had ever known before.
After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving way to every variety of thought, re-considering events, and reconciling herself as well as she could to a change so sudden and so important, she finally returned to the Parsonage.
Fatigued, she entered the house with the wish of retiring to her room again, but she was met by the Collinses, inquiring as to her well-being.
She was immediately told that the two gentlemen from Rosings had each called during her absence—Mr Darcy only for a few minutes to take leave—but that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been sitting with them at least an hour, hoping for her return and almost resolving to walk after her till she could be found.
They both decided to leave Rosings a day earlier than they anticipated, and Mr Collins called it a tragedy that Elizabeth had no chance to wish them goodbye.
Elizabeth could but just affect concern in missing the colonel, as he was no longer an object of interest. She could think only of her letter and the man who had written it—and whose name she did not mention at all.
∞∞∞
The horses galloped steadily as though they wished to leave Rosings behind as soon as possible.
But their steps were still too slow for Darcy.
He felt caged and could not breathe, knowing she was nearby.
He left, but his heart and hopes remained there, crushed by her refusal and accusations.
And her eyes that sometimes smiled at him—for reasons he now knew to have been misinterpreted—remained in his memory, tearful from anger, disdain, and abhorrence.
“Darcy, I cannot imagine why you would want to leave in such a hurry. Upon my word, I cannot understand you most of the time. Do you know that Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas will travel to Town in a few days? If we stayed longer, we could have kept them company.”
“Richard, how proper would it have been for two men to travel with two, unmarried young ladies? I cannot believe you even suggested that.”
“Well, perhaps not in the same carriage, but we could have stopped and had tea together.” The colonel paused briefly, glancing at Darcy, and said hesitantly, “You know, I had a very interesting conversation with Miss Bennet yesterday.”
Darcy’s heart skipped a beat. “What conversation?” he asked, wondering whether his voice trembled.
“I met her walking in the park before noon. I confess that I indicated to her that, if my situation in life would allow it and if I did not need to be prudent regarding the financial aspects, I would be interested in knowing her better.”
Darcy felt all the blood drain from his face. Could that be the reason? Did her affection lie with Richard? Was she hurt by the realisation she had no future with the man she really liked? Was his proposal like a knife in that wound, causing her to refuse him so uncivilly?
“And what did she say?” Darcy dared ask, wondering at his changed voice.
“Surprisingly, she amused herself at my expense. She doubted the seriousness of my admiration on such a short acquaintance and mocked my concerns regarding my financial security. She claimed the youngest son of an earl must know little of poverty and need.”
Dumbfounded, Darcy stared at his cousin, gulping several times. That was an answer he did not expect—and further proof of how little he truly knew her.
“She mocked you?” So she was also not impressed by the admiration of an earl’s son? One for whom she had nothing to reproach and whose manners and behaviour were to her liking?
“Yes, in her usual teasing, witty way. It was delightful as always. One cannot be upset with Miss Bennet, no matter how harsh she might be. I asked permission to call on her as a friend, and she readily granted it. I hope to see her several times while she is in Town.”
Darcy was dumbstruck again. Call on her? As a friend? So there was the possibility that he might meet her by chance with the help of his cousin? But did he even want to expose himself to such torture?
“We also spoke a little about you, and you should know that she mocked you too—more specifically, on your eagerness to always have your way.” Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed as Darcy’s distress deepened.
“I am glad I provided such diversion,” he concluded, gazing outside.
“You must admit Miss Bennet is a remarkable woman,” the colonel insisted.
“I never denied that—quite the contrary. I am glad we shall be in London soon. I might leave for Pemberley in a few days. I miss Georgiana.”
“I miss her too,” the colonel admitted, and to Darcy’s relief, the conversation moved to a different subject. Unlike his thoughts, where there was room for nothing except Elizabeth.
∞∞∞
Hours had passed since the gentlemen’s departure, and Elizabeth had not a single moment of calmness. Every moment of her encounter with Darcy was vivid, keeping her mind alert and tormented, troubling her deeply—more so since she had nobody to talk to.
All the Parsonage’s residents were required to accept Lady Catherine’s invitation for tea. With the gentlemen’s absence—contrary to her fears—Elizabeth found that she bore her ladyship’s company well enough.
“You look well today, Miss Bennet. I imagine your illness was not serious,” Lady Catherine said with veiled reproach.
“No indeed; I thank you for your care, Lady Catherine. I feel better today,” Elizabeth answered politely.
As she looked at her host, Elizabeth thought that, had she chosen differently, she might have been presented to her by that time as her future niece.
She could not think without a smile of what her ladyship’s indignation would have been.
What would she have said? How would she have behaved?
were questions with which she tried to amuse herself to compensate for her distress.
“Well, today is surely a sad day for me since my nephews left us—and earlier than expected. I was rather displeased with such a decision, I assure you. I believe nobody feels the loss of friends as much as I do. But I am particularly attached to these young men and know them to be much attached to me! Especially Darcy. His attachment to Rosings certainly increases.”
“As it should, Lady Catherine,” Mr Collins hastily replied while the lady smiled approvingly.
Elizabeth glanced at Miss de Bourgh several times; she appeared similarly affected by her cousins’ departure, and Elizabeth could imagine her sadness once she was alone.
Suddenly, the thought that amused her earlier pained her now.
Mr Darcy’s proposal was something that nobody expected, and surely not Miss de Bourgh.
How would she react if she found out that her cousin wished to marry her new acquaintance?
What would she say if she were unexpectedly introduced to someone occupying the position that had been prepared for her for so many years?
Although such a situation was impossible now, Elizabeth felt the distress acutely.
And yet, Anne had said that Darcy would marry when he found someone to his liking.
Perhaps Anne would be more upset if she knew how her cousin had been rejected and offended by someone so beneath him than by the notion that he had proposed to such a person.
Either way, distress made the rest of the evening uneasy for Elizabeth. Lady Catherine observed that Miss Bennet seemed out of spirits, immediately accounting for it herself by supposing that she did not want to go home again so soon.
“You must write to your mother to beg that you may stay a little longer. Mrs Collins will be very glad of your company, I am sure,” Lady Catherine said.
“I am much obliged to your ladyship for your kind invitation,” replied Elizabeth, “but it is not in my power to accept it. I must be in Town this Saturday. My sister and aunt are expecting me.”
“Why, at that rate, you will have been here for only a fortnight. I expected you to stay at least a month. I told Mrs Collins so before you came.”
“I am grateful to Mrs Collins and especially your ladyship, but we must keep to our plan. My uncle will send the carriage for us the day after tomorrow.”