Chapter 23 #2
He spoke to Bingley and Jane, then to her parents and the Gardiners.
Suddenly, with painful despair, she saw his carriage arrive and Bingley embrace him cordially. He was leaving; she had no doubt of that!
Her heart ached, and breathing became difficult. He obviously did not want to stay in her presence any longer. Eventually, when she could barely contain her tears, he stepped towards her decidedly.
“Mr Darcy.”
“Miss Bennet, I hope I am not bothering you. I came to say goodbye.”
“Are you leaving already? Even before the wedding breakfast?”
“Yes. I am afraid I must. I came only to keep my promise to Bingley. I am glad to see him and his new wife so happy. I do not believe my presence is needed any longer.”
“Perhaps not—if that is the only reason you came,” she said and then blushed at the impropriety of her words.
He stared at her, but she averted her eyes.
“How have you been these weeks? Everything is fine at Longbourn, I hope?” he asked.
“Yes, very much so.”
“I was pleased to see Miss Lydia in a good humour.”
“She is. Thanks to your timely intervention, she is very well. We all are.”
“I am glad to hear it. I shall leave for Pemberley tomorrow. Anne will join me.”
She looked at him with surprise and worry. What did he mean by that?
“Yes, she and Mrs Jenkinson will spend the summer with us. Richard will join us later this month.”
“I see…” Her puzzlement and worry continued, but she struggled to remain composed. “It is surprising that Lady Catherine would allow Miss de Bourgh to go to Pemberley.”
“She had little to say on the matter. Things have changed in the last fortnight.”
“I see,” she repeated. “So you will leave Town tomorrow.”
“Yes…I look forward to returning to Pemberley.”
“I can imagine…”
“We shall be prepared for your arrival next month.” He smiled.
Their conversation moved on with difficulty; the old uneasiness returned, and trust seemed broken. They seemed to be as they were during the first days they met in London. The last weeks seemed to vanish from their acquaintance.
“Miss Bennet…”
“Yes…?”
“There is one rather delicate thing I need dare ask you. I would appreciate your being completely honest with me.” He was embarrassed and hesitant.
Her puzzlement increased. “Have I not always been so?”
“We barely had time to speak after the ball… So many things occurred and were said…”
“Indeed. I wished to speak to you too since many things remain unspoken.”
“True… Bingley wrote to me that you were rather out of spirits lately and that Jane was somewhat worried. And today, I noticed you kept your distance from me. Should I understand you preferred to avoid me? Is my presence unpleasant to you?”
“What do you mean?” she whispered.
“I shall not deny that I have suspected for some time that you…might have showed me more affability than you truly feel. Could it be that Mr Wilson asked you to do so? Or perhaps you wished to maintain a friendship with me for the sake of your eldest sister. Either way, I am asking with my heart open and a genuine desire to protect you from any further unpleasantness. If my company is a burden to you, I shall save you from it. Depending on your answer, I shall know how to best arrange my future meetings with Bingley in order to give you the comfort you deserve.”
She stared at him in complete shock, the pain so great that it weakened her knees and cut her heart.
She hoped she had not heard him correctly.
She prayed that it was all a misunderstanding that would soon be clarified.
But his dark gaze wore such deep sorrow that she understood how strong his conviction was.
There were people all around them, watching and even walking towards them. She had little time to speak.
“You have asked me a question that never should have crossed your mind, and you accuse me of dishonesty.
You should know that I have never pretended to possess feelings that were untrue.
I can see you are still wounded and your spirit is probably bitter after everything you discovered recently.
But your suspicions are as hurtful as they are unjust. You have misjudged my feelings and behaviour in the past, but never so utterly and completely as you have now.
He seemed to lean forward, nearly losing his balance. His eyes still held hers.
“Miss Bennet. I want nothing but to see you happy. For a while, I hoped your happiness might be related to mine, but I fear I was a fool to hope too much. I am afraid I was mistaken.”
“You are mistaken indeed, Mr Darcy. And a complete fool. When one has doubts, one should ask and search for proof. You told me something similar a few weeks ago. I trust we shall meet often in the future so you can recognize and admit your foolishness. Good day and have a safe trip home.”
Elizabeth turned and hurried her steps; her feet tried to disobey, but she kept moving them, hoping she could part from him before her tears began to fall.
“Miss Bennet…” she heard him calling her hesitantly. She did not turn, so she missed seeing him take a few steps towards her.
Someone called to her, but she did not respond.
When she finally glanced back, she saw him talking to his friend for a few moments; then he mounted his horse and rode away, followed by his carriage. And he was gone.
∞∞∞
Although the day of Jane and Bingley’s wedding was one of celebration at Longbourn and in all of Meryton, for Elizabeth, it meant the breaking of her heart in two—one part trilling with joy for her sister’s happiness, the other falling under the weight of overwhelming disappointment.
Her darkest fears proved to be real. Darcy mistrusted her and suspected her of playing a part in the scheme for the benefit of her sister or Mr Wilson.
Her grief mingled with anger and disgust. How dare he? How could he be so wrong again? He misjudged Jane’s feelings for Bingley months before and convinced his friend to abandon Jane. Was he doing the same with her?
He did not conceal his feelings—nor did he express them clearly—but he doubted hers. Then he ran away without allowing her to properly refute his doubts. Hateful man, indeed!
He was in haste to return to Pemberley—with Anne. What could that mean? Would Lady Catherine allow him to take Anne without an understanding between them? Was he so hurt, so upset, so disappointed that he had agreed to marry his cousin?
As much as Elizabeth liked Anne, that thought cut her soul fiercely.
How could she ever see him again if he married another?
Would he do such a thing under the burden of bitter distress and change their lives so completely?
She found no reasonable answer that day or in those that followed—just as she found no sleep or enjoyment in anything that once gave her pleasure.
Three days after the wedding, the Gardiners and Mr Wilson returned to London. Before their departure, Mr Wilson asked for a private conversation with Elizabeth and invited her to take a stroll.
“Elizabeth, I cannot leave without asking what I can do to bring the smile back to your face.”
“I am not certain what you mean, sir.”
“Yes, you are. And I can only guess the reason for your distress. I shall not apologize for anything I have done. I believe my actions were just and well deserved towards whom they were meant. But I unwittingly afflicted you in a way that I could not foresee. Your sadness pains me, and I know I am responsible for it.”
“You are not, sir. You take too much upon yourself. However circumstances might affect one’s life, it is one’s duty to behave in a way that remedies and improves the situation.”
“I tried to speak to Darcy, but it was hardly the place and time. I hoped he would stay longer.”
“As did I,” she confessed.
“What…is he…may I dare ask the cause of your obvious dissension?”
“He accused me of betrayal,” she said spitefully.
A grimace changed Wilson’s face. “Surely, that cannot be true.”
“Perhaps not in those words. But he suspected that I pretended a friendship in order to help you accomplish your plan.”
“That is witless,” Wilson uttered.
“It is more painful than witless,” she admitted. “Once he felt you had deceived him, he might easily suspect I did the same. But I hoped he would trust me more. I hoped he would sense the truth...”
Emotions overwhelmed her, and Wilson allowed her time to compose herself.
“One thing I have learned in my useless and adventurous life is that, the more a man feels and the stronger his sentiments and sensations are, the more powerful his doubts become, especially if he was proved wrong and was rejected in the past.”
Elizabeth glanced at him and said nothing.
“My dear girl, keep in mind that a man like Darcy would never propose to a woman beneath his social standing unless he held her in the highest esteem and his love was stronger than the demands of duty and family. And once he did so and was spurned, he would never want to see that woman again and never consider renewing his addresses—not ever—unless his love is stronger even than his pride. And if that is so, the only serious obstacle can be fear of another rejection and the loss of any chance at happiness. That might keep him away and induce him to act more prudently.”
He stepped closer, took her hands, kissed them affectionately, then bowed to her.
“You have every reason to trust his affection and his intentions towards you—but do you? Is there no trace of doubt or fear in your mind? He is waiting for you at Pemberley; are you certain of his meaning and intent?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “I am not,” she admitted. “I am not even certain whether I should go to Pemberley.”
Wilson smiled. “You will come with us to Lambton. From there, we shall see.”
“What about you, Mr Wilson. What are your intentions?” she asked daringly.
“I shall speak to Darcy at the first opportunity. I shall not enter Pemberley unless I know I am welcome. I shall apologize for any offence or harm I caused him. But I shall not apologize for the revenge I planned upon his relatives.”
Elizabeth breathed deeply. “Anne will be at Pemberley. She has changed so much lately. She has gained in health and self-confidence. She needs support and affection to overcome a life in which she believed herself ill and awaiting an early death. She is just learning how to live.”
Wilson frowned.
“And I have been told that Miss Georgiana Darcy is a wonderful, accomplished young woman with a beautiful character. I am sure she would love to meet her father’s old friend to benefit from his presence and his genuine affection and protection.”
She paused, but Wilson said nothing, so she continued.
“As Mr Darcy said: you were gone for twenty-five years, but now you are here, having the chance to compensate for your absence. Mr George Darcy is no longer there to welcome you, but he would be glad to have you at Pemberley. And your friendship may continue and grow. It is all in your power, sir. I hope you will use it wisely.”
Elizabeth slowly walked towards the house, Wilson following her.
The gentlemen joined her father in the library while she retired to her chamber to ponder their talk.
Mr Wilson was full of surprises—some good, some bad.
One never knew what to expect from him. She had been harsh with him, but he did not seem upset.
For the impetuosity—even recklessness—he showed in his actions, he compensated with wisdom and common sense.
After the conversation with him, her distress remained.
The fears, doubts, and disappointment were still there, contending with her reason, but the discussion helped her acquire a better understanding.
There was much to consider and to comprehend.
But her mind slowly cleared like the sky when the sun moves the clouds away.
That night, Elizabeth fell into a long restless, sleep filled with dreams of Pemberley and its master.