Chapter 33 #2
To be sure, he behaved very badly. I would never tell you what to do or how you should feel, but you will allow me to say that—as someone who has known him all his life and who saw him the morning after that awful ball—I do believe it was unintentional.
Indeed, I suspect he will long hate himself for having injured you, of all ladies.
Do not let that stop you from informing him exactly how much he disappointed you.
It does a gentleman good to be reminded how severely their actions may affect us.
Rest assured, my dear Lizzy, whatever you decide to do regarding him, you have my complete support. I hope to see you soon. Let it be by the spring, if not this winter.
On the third day, she could no longer avoid him.
He and Mr Bingley were at Longbourn yet again.
The weather being fair, she decided to take a walk about the grounds.
Kitty and Lydia immediately said they would join her, but the others elected to remain in doors—other than Mr Darcy.
Elizabeth was not entirely surprised at his decision; she even welcomed it, knowing she could not refuse to speak to him forever.
Soon after they were out of doors, her sisters skipped ahead of her and Mr Darcy, their heads bent together as they giggled about something or other. A heavy silence hung over them until he broke it after several minutes.
“Having met Miss Bennet, I am very pleased for my friend. She is every bit as lovely as he told me.”
She made a noise of agreement. “He is a fortunate man. Jane is the gentlest, most loyal person I have ever known. Now that she has given him her heart, he has it forever.”
Evidently she had spoken more bitterly than she had meant to, because he stopped walking and gently touched her arm to indicate she should do likewise.
“Do you have reason to doubt his constancy?” he asked.
His expression suggested that he understood she had been thinking of him, not Mr Bingley.
She shook her head, and said, “I do not believe his sisters approve of his choice. Even Jane, who usually thinks too well of everyone she meets, said as much. You might understand that familial disapproval is a delicate subject to me.”
“My family does not disapprove of you,” he said hastily.
She shook her head, dismissing his assurances.
“Yet you hesitated to tell them about me.” Before he could respond, she held up a hand to forestall him.
“I have thought over and over again about what you told me, and I cannot deny that I am finding it difficult to forget what it was like to stand in that crowded ballroom and see you dance with your cousin when you had asked me, to hear your aunt so freely, so confidently discuss your impending marriage to Miss de Bourgh. One minute, I believe I understand why you acted as you did, but the next, I do not know why it was so impossible for you to tell them you liked me. It has occurred to me that you were embarrassed to admit you had developed tender feelings for a woman so unlike the lady they expected you to marry.”
“No!” he interjected. “It is not that at all. Nothing would make me prouder than to call you my wife, to have you by my side wherever we happen to be, to see you take your place as part of my family.”
Tears stung her eyes. She yearned to fall into his arms and exchange expressions of love with him, but she could not.
“I do not know how to describe it other than having got myself caught in a trap,” he said.
“Once I had decided it would be best to ensure you shared my hopes for the future before I spoke to my aunts and uncle, it was like I could see no other option—not even when Bramwell and Fitzwilliam told me delaying was wrong. Was I too concerned with agitating Lord and Lady Romsley further? Undoubtedly. Should I have been more forceful in telling Lady Catherine I would never marry Anne? Yes. I truly did believe my conversations with them would be easier if I could inform them that I believed we would marry, and that I could not do without having spoken to you to ensure you shared my feelings.”
He ran a hand over his face and immediately continued.
“I probably ought not to say that, because it makes it sound as though you had a role in how I chose to act, and that is not what I mean. I always knew the discussion with Lady Catherine would be difficult. She would not want to accept my decision, and she has not. With Lord and Lady Romsley, you know they have found it difficult to reconcile themselves to the choices my cousins have made, because it is not what they envisioned for their sons, and despite Rebecca and Miss Strachan being such estimable ladies.”
“And I am not what they envisioned for you,” she said, her brow arching in challenge.
“You might not be their son, but they still have strong opinions regarding your future. And no one can deny that Rebecca and Marian have the advantage over me in terms of wealth and consequence, making me an even more difficult choice to accept.”
“You are just as estimable as they are. My aunt and uncle both like you already, and, in the end, as long as I am happy, they will be satisfied.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth unexpectedly.
A tear slid down her cheek, and she brushed it away.
“I…I feel like you disappointed me, that you were unwilling to stand up for me. On some other occasion, will you? Or are you going to feel the need to apologise for having married the daughter of a country gentleman with connexions in trade and no dowry? Will you ensure I am treated as I should be? Not just by your relations, but also by others we will encounter, people in the ton who will wonder how you came to reject your cousin for me, especially given her fortune and that it was against your family’s wishes. ”
His cheeks were red, and his voice was thick with emotion when he said, “I know I disappointed you. I disappointed myself, too, and others, such as Lady Romsley, who wishes I had been more open. And the earl, Rebecca, Mrs Ryde—I could go on. What I most regret is that I injured you. I do not know that I shall ever forgive myself for it, not entirely. I do not know what else to say other than that everyone that matters knows and accepts that my heart belongs to you, and you alone. I would never allow them—or anyone else—to mistreat you. Already, I have informed Lady Catherine that our connexion is at an end if she persists in refusing to accept my decisions. Tell me what to do or say to convince you, and I shall do it.”
She regarded him for a long moment before shrugging inelegantly. “I hope it is just a matter of time being the cure.” With that, she resumed walking, leaving him to follow.
That night was another largely sleepless one for Elizabeth.
When she recalled Mr Darcy’s stricken expression during their conversation, she felt terrible, yet, having spoken as freely as she had, it was like something inside of her had been released.
A weight had been lifted from her heart.
If she could only go one step further, she was certain she could finally meet him along the path where they both wished to be, where they had been before the ball, the one that promised them a happy future together.
“Because I do long to be reconciled to him,” she whispered into the stillness of her bedchamber.
Pulling the blankets close to chase away the cold, she re-read first Mrs Ryde’s letter and then Rebecca’s, seeking comfort in their words of praise for Mr Darcy.
Her friend wrote about her desire that they would be cousins and form a large family along with Marian—who would certainly marry Colonel Fitzwilliam—and Jane, who would be Mrs Bingley.
Together, they would be wonderfully happy.
I do not know where Marian and Colonel Fitzwilliam will settle, but we must encourage them to choose a home that is a reasonable distance between Romsley Hall, Pemberley, and Mr Bingley’s estate.
I can almost see you arching your brow reading what I just wrote.
No, Lord B has not yet proposed, but we all know he will, and that I shall say yes.
Please imagine me rolling my eyes at myself.
To think how suspicious of him I was when he first started calling on me!
“And I took a dislike to Mr Darcy from the very beginning,” Elizabeth murmured.
It had not been without reason, but had she clung to her initial impression, unwilling to acknowledge his finer qualities?
She remembered what it was like when they had danced at the Wares’ ball the night they first saw each other in London, the look in his eyes that first awakened her to the possibility that he did not dislike her, that there was another aspect to him she had not been willing to see earlier.
And she reflected on the weeks in town—how easily they had spoken of their shared interest in history at the Tower and the British Museum, the affection he had for his sister and relations, the respect with which he treated Mrs Ryde and Lord Halsley.
If he was nothing more than the man she had believed him to be in Ireland, she would not have so quickly grown to like him when they were in London, and have soon permitted that liking to turn into ardent love.
“He is but a man, capable of erring, just as we all are. Just as I am.”
The simple truth she returned to again and again was that she loved him.
Was not love about opening your heart to another and accepting that they were flawed, just as you wanted them to accept that you were flawed?
“It would be different if he refused to acknowledge that he had made mistakes.” After a long moment in which she did nothing but stare at the flickering candlelight, she exhaled. “As I did.”