Chapter 41 Cutting Remarks
“Lizzy, your father returned home before supper. He was fatigued and was also missing your mother.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Aunt Maddie, I should not admit to this, but I am very grateful to have been spared. Mother could be so embarrassing. I am certain she would have frightened Mr. Allen away.” She pressed her aunt’s hand. “Excuse me, I am going in search of the ladies’ retiring room.”
Elizabeth and Georgiana walked together to the retiring room. After they attended to their needs, they passed the card room, filled with older gentlemen, and hazy with cigar smoke.
They continued past the drawing room, where four people were gathered in conversation. Elizabeth saw Caroline standing between Mr. Balfour and Mr. Darcy, while Mr. Allen stood a little apart. Both young women paused in the darkened hall when Miss Bingley’s sharp voice rose above the others.
“Mr. Darcy, you astonish me, sir. You have danced both the waltz and the supper dance with that little nobody. The Bennet family is not a desirable connection for either Charles or you, but most particularly for you, as they do not move in our circles. To establish a connection with a Bennet would be a degradation, for not only is the estate inconsequential, but the family is connected to professional men who earn their living. The uncles are solicitors, and one of the sisters is married to a rector.”
Elizabeth watched Mr. Darcy’s face, hoping that he would speak in defense of her and her family. But he did not. She heard his resonant voice, and with his next words, he struck her down.
“In this, I do agree with you, Caroline. The family is not a suitable connection for one from my circles. It would be a degradation, for the family is neither wealthy nor titled and holds no distinction in society. And the uncles are merely professional men of no particular consequence.”
Elizabeth’s eyes glistened, and her throat tightened at these painful words.
Allen said, “My younger sister is married to a rector. And I should be pleased if my elder sister married a solicitor. How is the Bennet family different from mine?”
Darcy replied, “Men such as you and I, Allen, who possess large estates and considerable wealth, owe it to our bloodlines to marry high. The difference lies not in the professions themselves but in what society expects of men in our situation. A gentleman who possesses a considerable estate and the influence that attends it cannot act as though such considerations do not exist.”
“So, you believe we must marry according to rank?”
“It is expected. Fortune, family, and connections carry obligations. Society looks to us to strengthen our houses through suitable alliances with women whose birth and standing reflect our own.”
“And you believe the Bennet family falls short of that measure?”
“You know as well as I that in the eyes of the world the Bennet women would not be considered equal to us.”
Elizabeth could bear no more. He had said nothing she did not already know, yet to hear it spoken aloud by his own lips, addressed to a near stranger and in agreement with Caroline Bingley’s opinion, struck her to the heart.
Her hand rose to her bosom in an effort to calm the stuttering in her chest. Her throat tightened and left her struggling for breath. She wished to run from the room and weep, but she did neither.
It was evident that he believed what he said to be true and that he sought to divide her from an eligible gentleman who had shown interest in her.
Anger replaced her hurt, and that anger sustained her.
Where she had before shrunk beneath the force of her pain, she now drew herself upright and stepped from the dark hallway into the drawing room while Georgiana remained behind, rooted to the spot.
She approached the small party and curtsied gracefully.
Then she said in a clear, composed voice, “All these months I have believed that we were friends, Mr. Darcy. It pains me to discover that my friend would express such opinions of my family and of me behind my back, and to others in so public a manner.”
She gestured toward Miss Bingley and added, “I have always known what Miss Bingley thinks of me, for she has ever been direct in expressing her opinions. Through her, your decided judgment will soon be carried to my neighbors, and before long everyone will know what you truly think of the Bennet family, for it is Miss Bingley’s particular delight to disparage me to any who will listen. ”
Her eyes fixed upon his and held them. “I am grateful, sir, to learn that you are, in fact, not my friend and that such a fiction need not be honored any longer. Do not acknowledge me should we ever meet again, for I no longer consider you even an acquaintance.” Her eyes turned to Mr. Allen.
“Good night, sir. It was a pleasure to have met you.”
She curtsied again, turned, but as she walked away from him, Darcy spoke, remaining firm in his opinion. “Miss Bennet, men and women cannot be friends. It is not possible. They will either become lovers, a man and his mistress, or husband and wife. There is nothing that falls in between.”
Elizabeth felt heat rise to her ears, but she was careful not to look back. Was that what he had intended for her? To be his mistress?
The thought left her ill, and she longed to escape the room, yet her limbs felt leaden. She feared that she might crumple to the floor before she reached the door.
At last, she passed from the drawing room into the darkened hall. She clutched at the wall until she recovered herself enough to flee and then hurried blindly up the stairs to her room.
She rang the bell and began working at the buttons of her gown. When the maid entered, Elizabeth said, “I require your help to change my dress.”
After she was dressed in a simple walking gown, she packed a portmanteau with her hairbrushes and her nightdress.
Then she turned to the maid, “Please send for the gig. I am returning to Longbourn. You may pack the remainder of my things in the morning and notify my sister that I wish to have my trunk delivered to my home.”
The maid looked surprised. “At this hour, miss? It is near one in the morning.”
“Yes. Pray call for the gig. If it is not available, I shall walk.”
“No, miss. I shall have them bring the gig around.”
Elizabeth slipped into her pelisse and gloves, then hurried down the servants’ stairs that the maid had just used. When she reached the front entrance, she said to the footman, “I shall wait outside. Please inform Mrs. Bingley that I have returned to Longbourn with the headache.”
The gig drew up shortly, and Elizabeth fled from Netherfield and from Mr. Darcy.
The cool Autumn air made her shiver, but nothing served to distract her mind from his cutting words. Her throat remained so tight that she could scarcely breathe, and the sobs she held back seemed to choke her.
It had all been a sham, a fiction. Or worse still, perhaps he had been working on her so that she would eventually agree to become his mistress. She understood then how a respectable woman might be persuaded to accept such an arrangement.
At last, the gig reached Longbourn, and she alighted in haste, hurrying down the path. The door was locked. She seized the knocker and struck it, scarcely able to wait.
Mr. Hill opened the door, and Mrs. Hill stood behind him.
Elizabeth fell against her neck and cried, “Hill, I am undone.”
The tears she had restrained could no longer be held. They poured forth as she clutched her beloved servant. At last, she made her way to the foot of the stairs, sank down upon a step, and buried her face in her hands. Her heart was breaking.
Mr. Bennet came from his study. “Lizzy, what has happened? Has someone harmed you? Did a man assault you?”
Elizabeth shook her head and said between sobs, “No, Papa. I am safe. Nothing of that sort has occurred.”
“Come, Lizzy. Come to my study and tell me what has befallen you. Has Mr. Darcy made an indecent proposal to you?”
Elizabeth shook her head and said, “Not quite.”
He led her into his study, and they sat together upon the couch. For a time, she could not speak. She leaned against his shoulder and wept. It seemed that all the tears of the past year, which had never been shed, found their release that night.
At length, she recovered herself sufficiently to speak of the scene with Mr. Darcy.
“He has been ill-tempered throughout the day, though it was nothing beyond what I have seen in the weeks I have resided at Netherfield. But not an hour ago, he was denigrating our family and me to his London friends. He spoke of our connections to professional men who must earn their living and of our inconsequential estate.”
She looked at her father. “It was humiliating, and in every way horrible. My heart aches, Papa.”
She dried her eyes and blew her nose. “We are nothing to him. I already knew it, of course. I had not set my heart upon him, for I understood he moved in a sphere far above my own. Yet to hear from his own lips what he thinks of us. We are dirt beneath his feet. We are worse than strangers, for he must acknowledge us if he should meet us at the theater or in some other place.”
She sobbed into her handkerchief before continuing.
“When we first met in London, he had been so friendly, so attentive. Yet he says that a man and a woman can never be friends, for they will either become lovers, a man and his mistress, or husband and wife. And he declared that a Bennet is too lowly for one such as he or Mr. Allen.”
She bent forward with her face buried in her hands and began to weep again.
Bennet handed her his handkerchief, then placed his arm about her shoulders in comfort. Tears stood in his own eyes. Hill stood just outside the door with her handkerchief pressed to her face. The darkened house lay wrapped in grief.
Back at Netherfield, Georgiana remained fixed to the place where she had heard her brother’s ill-judged speech. She stared at him in astonishment, unable to believe what her own ears had heard.
Then anger overtook her.
She rushed at him and struck her fists against his chest.
“How could you say such things about Lizzy? She is my friend. I love her. Now she will never speak to me again. The very sight of you and of me will be abhorrent to her. You are so proud and so arrogant, Fitzwilliam. I hate you. I hate you.” She broke down into tears and buried her face in his chest.
Caroline moved to shut the door to contain the disturbance. Mr. Balfour stood, looking uncomfortable.
Mr. Allen stood aside watching them, then said, “You look like death, Darcy. Allow me to fetch you a brandy.”
He crossed to the sideboard and poured two glasses of brandy, one for himself and the other for Darcy. Then he turned toward Balfour. “Come and help yourself. There is enough for all.”
He carried the glass to Darcy, who now held his weeping sister against his chest. Darcy drank the brandy in a single swallow and set the empty glass upon a nearby table.
“Thank you, Allen. Georgiana, I shall take you up to your room, and then I will seek out Miss Bennet and offer my apologies. She will not hold my sins against you, I promise. Come. The sooner we go upstairs, the sooner I may set matters right.”
He turned to Allen and said, “I trust that you will not speak of this.”
Allen inclined his head.
Then he turned to Mr. Balfour, who signified his agreement.
At last, he looked to Caroline. “I know that these two gentlemen will carry this matter to their graves. Miss Bingley, if I hear a single word of it repeated, I shall know that it came from you, and I shall recommend that Charles send you back to Scarborough or to Yorkshire. You dislike the Bennets and would find great pleasure in harming Miss Bennet’s reputation. Do you understand me?”
She regarded him, her eyes widened, then found her tongue and said, “Mr. Darcy, you have never raised your voice to me before.”
He only looked at her and then turned back to his sister.
“Come. I must find Miss Bennet.”