Chapter 17 #2
“And then we were elevated to an unimaginable height; and Miss Darcy is obviously far from ready for marriage. I was not convinced that she was Mr. Bingley’s choice, and I began to feel hopeful that Miss Bingley had ascribed her own wishes to her brother.
Yet I cannot overlook the fact that Mr. Bingley’s absence gives all the appearance of his having forgotten about me. ”
The expression on Jane’s face made it clear that she blamed herself for being so resentful.
She looked around the conservatory, with its lush green plants, and sighed.
“Our old world in Hertfordshire is a faraway memory—a foreign place bearing little consequence to my life. A tradesman with an income of four to five thousand pounds came amongst us, and I was flattered to be singled out for his attentions. Now, though, with our family’s exalted status, young men from distinguished families are jostling for the chance to meet us.
It is now our turn to gauge whether a young man is worthy of our regard based on his position in society. It is ironic, really.”
Elizabeth had not expected such a long, meandering exposition to come from her dearest, kindest sister.
Knowing Jane as she did, she thought Jane was saying out loud her own jumbled misgivings about the inevitability of being courted by gentlemen of high breeding and fortune while confronting her own negative thoughts of Mr. Bingley.
Still engaged in rumination, she felt Jane tugging at her arm.
“Lizzy, did you hear me? I asked you what you thought of Mr. Darcy, now that he seems quite pleasant and not at all haughty. You and he fell quickly back into your habit of animated discourse after such a long hiatus.”
“Oh, Jane, forgive me. I was mulling over your opinion of Mr. Bingley. As for Mr. Darcy, perhaps he now considers us no longer beneath his contempt, or it may be his married status allows him to look more approachable. He can let his guard down in the company of single ladies to behave as a civil gentleman should. Papa said even though he is not titled, his fortune made him a prime catch of exalted society, ducal daughters included.”
“To me, he appeared almost amiable, even though I did not talk to him.” Jane had a faraway look on her face when she said this.
Elizabeth felt an inexplicable prick in her heart.
“Jane! You thought Mr. Bingley amiable! Mr. Darcy must not be described as resembling Mr. Bingley in that regard. Mr. Darcy did seem more personable—not so opinionated and self-righteous as before. But amiable? Hardly!” Elizabeth declared vehemently.
She convinced herself that she needed to warn Jane against falling for Mr. Darcy, a married man!
Jane looked at Elizabeth quizzically, and Elizabeth squirmed for no good reason.
“Lizzy, why are you so adamant about thinking Mr. Darcy disagreeable? We are now in a position to be magnanimous. You must learn some of my philosophy: always see the good in people. Mr. Darcy’s new friendly attitude becomes him.”
Elizabeth said with contrition, “You are right, as always, Jane. I shall practice being kind and forgiving, which is a trait you have possessed from birth, and one that is an impossibility for me. Mr. Darcy has improved upon acquaintance, and I humbly concede.”
Jane remained contemplative for a few moments longer and then said, “Could it be that you are attracted to him? I had suspected it in the past because of the way you and he appeared to be locked in your own world, even amid a fierce battle of words. No one else dared intrude into this peculiar intimacy. If Mr. Darcy were not married, I wonder whether you two would be courting, now that your social status exceeds his.”
“Jane! It is unlike you to be so fanciful. As you rightly stated, Mr. Darcy is married. It is futile for us to spend any more time on this idle topic. Let us explore the rest of these exotic plants.”
Jane, always amicable, acquiesced. However, she did notice that her younger sister did not refute her suspicion.
That night, in her cavernous canopy bed, Elizabeth tossed and turned, kept awake by Jane’s suggestion that she might be attracted to Mr. Darcy.
If she were honest with herself, Jane had hit upon a topic that had troubled her since she first met the gentleman at the Meryton Assembly during Michaelmas the previous year.
Even from the beginning, on her first glimpse of the tall stature and noble mien of the wealthy gentleman from Derbyshire, she had felt unaccountably drawn to him.
That was why his subsequent slight of her at the assembly had pierced her heart.
She had tried mightily to turn him into a devil who deserved no regard from her, because she could not face the truth that she would never gain the approbation of this intriguing man.
Mr. Wickham provided the justification she desperately needed to save herself from the indignity of being unrequited in love.
Not only did Mr. Wickham tell extremely unsavory tales about the rich, arrogant man, but Mr. Wickham, handsome and charming in manners and speech, had shown a partiality toward her.
She was not pleased about the unfamiliar warmth permeating her body when she and Mr. Darcy had any verbal interaction, and thus she had displayed as much hostility toward him as she could muster, as had been duly observed by her papa and Jane.
Were the hostile feelings truly only pretense on her part?
There was no arguing against that warmth, even during heated and contentious debates, such as the dispute over Wickham during a dance in the Netherfield ballroom.
“The Netherfield ball—that was a long time ago,” she murmured into her fluffy feather pillow. Then, the incontrovertible truth raised its righteous head:
“He is married! Stop being silly!”
For the first time, a twinge in her heart made her wonder whether a cruel twist of fate had put her on equal footing with him when it was too late.
Over on the other side of Mayfair, the subject of her reflections was also sleepless.
His was a feeling of lightness—he had finally resolved the restlessness in his soul since he left Hertfordshire.
Finding himself truly in love for the first time made him giddy, so much so that all the obstacles standing in his way to attain his love seemed inconsequential.
Being married precluded him declaring his love to his heart’s desire, but even this insurmountable obstacle revealed a noble feeling he had not thought he possessed: he could bear the worst of agonies and make the most selfless sacrifice for her sake.
He now recognized and denounced his previous folly—prioritizing conventional prejudices such as wealth and connections before true love.
If Elizabeth were still an impoverished country miss, he would have rushed back to Hertfordshire to offer for her.
But Elizabeth could marry another while he was bound in matrimony!
This realization made him sigh involuntarily.
Elizabeth was now daughter to a duke. Even were he free, it would be difficult to gain her hand without a fight against the horde of eligible gentlemen competing for her affection.
Would he prevail against all odds—untitled and a widower?
His initial elation crashed from its height.
His marriage of convenience, no matter how temporary, would not become less of a reality because he now knew himself better.
He would not have agreed to marry his cousin if he had not been assured that the duration of his…
bondage would be anywhere between a few days to, at most, a few months.
He simply must remember and believe this assurance and not become discouraged through his own impatience and anxiety.