Chapter 10
Mr. Bennet made no attempt to kiss his daughter’s cheek when they arrived at the church. He stared straight ahead, his cheeks sucked in and his lips thin, not even pretending to be happy.
He had smiled, cautiously, when he had collected Elizabeth from her room an hour before. The sight of his daughter in her fine silk dress summoned deep fatherly affection, and his voice was hoarse when he blurted out:
“You can still change your mind, Elizabeth. I will not make you marry him. Take off that silly dress and go and practice your scales, child. You shall not marry him if you do not want to.”
“It is nice to know that you are capable of such concern, father.” Lizzie replied icily, placing her bonnet over her curls, “It is a shame that you thought Jane so unworthy of it.”
Mr. Bennet reddened but made no reply. He knew that he deserved such ire.
He had handed the girls’ care over to his wife entirely, and now he could not change the damnable woman’s stubborn mind.
Their circumstances had made him relieved that she was so determined, for he had done very little to protect his children’s future.
Marriage, then, was the answer. Mrs. Bennet was the one to orchestrate it.
No, he had not stepped in. Mr. Bennet scolded himself with every step towards the church. Lazy, ignorant old fool! Poor Jane. Poor Lizzie!
He mourned for his daughter as he walked her towards her undeserving partner. Mr. Darcy, damn him. Drunk and distant, too proud to suffer a mere rector as a brother. What a sour, arrogant man he was! He did not deserve a woman like Elizabeth.
Mr. Bennet was frozen in fury. So, he did not kiss Elizabeth. She made no goodbyes and did not look back. His daughter walked into the church and disappeared forever. An hour later, another man’s wife emerged.
Elizabeth felt as if the whole morning was happening to somebody else.
She could not remember saying her vows, nor mouthing along to the hymns which she had indifferently chosen. The shrill congratulations of her younger sisters made no impression upon her, and Charlotte Lucas could not make her smile. Even Jane’s tearful kiss had not broken through the numbness.
The only, small glimmer of feeling she had felt was when she had seen Mr. Collins’ empty seat on the pew.
Piqued, he had left Meryton for Hunsford the very day that Jane was taken from him.
There was a pompous speech, of course, and a beseeching cry for Jane to See sense, dear lady.
It is not too late! Listen to your parents and be an obedient child!
Sickening, wheedling cries which Mrs. Bennet had agreed with wholeheartedly.
It took her husband’s stern admonition to silence her, and another simmering glare to send Mr. Collins from the room.
Jane sat on the pew with a dazed expression, as if she had just woken up from a nightmare. She did not look at the empty space, but for the first time in weeks her head was raised, and she did not shrink away.
Mrs. Bennet had been overjoyed to hear of Mr. Darcy’s offer. She was not shrewd enough to question either the haste or the abruptness of the proposal. After making enquiries about his fortune, she was satisfied. Her mood changed entirely when she heard of Mr. Darcy’s conditions.
Ridiculous! Ridiculous!
After the denial came sly asides. Surely Mr. Darcy did not mean to break apart such a happy couple! He was merely being prudent! It was sensible for Jane to wait, of course! In a few months, Mr. Collins could return and begin his offers anew.
Mr. Bennet stood firm. Mr. Darcy would not be swayed. And Lizzie - sly Lizzie, who was surely behind the whole thing! - was scolded from sunrise to sunset.
Mr. Darcy offered to intervene, but Elizabeth declined. She much preferred to suffer her mother’s ire herself, than to see her take her anger out on poor Jane.
Now, sitting in the carriage opposite her new husband, Elizabeth wondered if he would spend the rest of his life mediating his in-law’s spiteful squabbles.
She hoped not; he had already been so generous, and at every turn something else arose that he had to overcome.
For a few weeks, at least, she hoped that he would have some respite.
Darcy said something. Elizabeth blinked and then sat up straighter.
“I apologise. I was lost in my thoughts. What did you say, sir?”
The man smiled and repeated himself, “I said, we are only travelling as far as Araford today. We should reach the inn by sunset.”
“Araford?” Elizabeth asked, confused, “Doesn’t that take us in the wrong direction?”
“Wrong direction for where?”
“Pemberley! I thought we would be going there at once.”
This time, Darcy’s eyes gleamed. “I thought to surprise you, Elizabeth. We are to spend our honeymoon in Westmorland. The lakes are beautiful in the summer. Have you ever seen them?”
She stared at him in shock, and then let out a shaky laugh, “No sir, but…”
“I know how much you admire the countryside.” he stopped, his enthusiasm turning into caution. “What is it, Elizabeth? What is troubling you? We do not have to go there, if you do not wish it.”
Elizabeth was silent for a long time. Then, with great care, she said: “I like the idea very much. I am grateful. It is only that… you do not have to seduce me, sir.”
“Seduce!”
“Impress, treat, spoil me - whatever you would call it, I require none of it. I am not here to be cossetted, sir, as you well know. You wish me to attend upon your sister. That was the whole reason for… for this.” she gestured vaguely in his direction, then at herself and her pretty silk wedding dress.
“There is no need to play-act and flatter each other. It is a waste of time. Take me to Pemberley, sir, so I can begin.”
“No.”
“No?”
Darcy leaned closer, and for the first time Lizzie saw her husband angry. It was a terrifyingly sudden transformation. His face became severe, his voice fell to a low growl, and his eyes were so dark and fierce that she could not look away.
“No, Miss Be… Mrs. Darcy. I shall not take you to Pemberley. How mercenary you are! If you are so determined to think me selfish, madam, then I shall give you a selfish reason: My sister is unhappy. I shall not help her by bringing another unhappy woman home with me.”
“I’m not…!” she gasped. It was impossible to keep up. How had he leapt so quickly to this terrible conclusion? She had only meant to be practical; he was treating her like Judas himself.
“Are you not? ‘It is a waste of time.’” he echoed back at her with a scoff, “Would you rather have me treat you as a servant, than as my wife?”
She rallied. Elizabeth was not one to back down from a fight without having her say. Her voice was clipped, if defensive “I would not be your wife at all, sir, if we had not made this agreement.”
“You still see this as a trade. I, I suppose, am merely your employer.” Darcy said bitingly.
“I didn’t mean that! Why are you so angry? You misunderstand me entirely, sir. I only meant…”
He did not seem to hear her protestations, only the few words which gave fuel to his anger.
“You meant that you have thought no further ahead than satisfying our agreement. You do not know me, nor understand me, and so have painted a most detestable image of me in your mind. A man who holds debts and can only play-act affection. What did I do to earn such distrust? Did I trap you, madam? Am I forcing your hand?” he glared at her then, choked back another hurtful remark, then stared fiercely out of the window.
Elizabeth sat, frozen and breathless, with her hands clutching the seat so tightly they were surely leaving marks.
Her knees were almost touching Mr. Darcy’s, but she felt as if he was a thousand miles away.
In a few short minutes, he had transformed from an eager friend shyly offering her a gift, to an angry stranger whom she could barely even look at.
It was so abrupt that she could not bear it. The numbness and the raw nerve that had brought her this far shattered in an instant, and she shuddered. Burying her head in her hands, she sank her fingers into her hair and willed herself not to cry.
Jane’s face emerged from the darkness, smiling and gentle and safe. Elizabeth drew a deep breath and smoothed her face into an emotionless mask.
Happy or sad, angry or not, I shall not let him vex me. She thought, clenching her hands into fists, He shall never get any closer to my heart than this - not to love me, not to hate me. He means nothing to me, and I mean nothing to him.
I cannot be happy, Jane. I have left you, and our home, and all of the things I cherish. Now, I have only Mr. Darcy - and he scares me. He is so changeable, Jane, and so secretive. I cannot make out his thoughts at all.
I am not myself around him. I cannot trust his kindness, nor understand it. I say such awful things. He was trying to give me a gift, and I hurt him so badly.
Oh, I know I did. I could not prevent it! I thought that we were comrades, and that we were going to help his sister. Why was he offended by that?
Why was he so harsh?
He is a stranger. Even more so than he was on the day that we met.
And I am alone.