Chapter 10
Darcy had appeared a day earlier as unexpectedly as he left, and his sister was not certain whether she was happy to see him or frightened by his strange behaviour.
If someone asked, he would not have been able to explain why he returned, nor would he dare tell anyone that he returned because Pemberley was cold and lonely in the winter.
He had been angry for many days and nights—so angry and hurt that he could do nothing, not even sleep. He spent considerable time on horseback, and some days he exercised three mounts and was still not satisfied or tired from riding across the snowy grounds.
Then he received the first letter from Georgiana, and she spoke of her concern regarding Miss Elizabeth, who had not left her room for almost a week.
He could not help worrying and wondering about her illness.
He felt deeply for her—the sharp pang in his chest was clear proof—and he was furious with himself for caring about a woman who cared so little for him.
During the next few days, worry surpassed his anger.
He was still infuriated with her, but he would rather know she was well and healthy.
She had been unwell for a week. Could it be that their argument had affected her so?
Certainly, she could not remain untouched after such a quarrel; nobody could.
When he received another letter from the colonel,mentioning that the Bennet sisters would soon return to Hertfordshire, Darcy became restless.
It crossed his mind that it would not be long before Bingley likely proposed to Miss Bennet, so future events and situations would probably throw them into each other’s company.
For the time being, he should be happy that she was leaving Town. But he was not.
His anger towards her was equally as strong as the anger towards his own weakness, so in order to discover new reasons to feed this anger, he spent an entire day and night reviewing every moment he spent in her company since they first met.
In the end, he was spent, deeply ashamed, and appalled at his own behaviour, shocked by the revelation that, indeed, she had every reason in the world to think ill of him and to accuse him of arrogance, conceit, and selfish disdain for the feelings of others.
He had offended her on the first evening of their acquaintance, refusing to dance with her and describing her as only tolerable.
And she heard him; he had proof of that.
In a short time, his opinion of her changed, and he found her to be considerably more than tolerable—but she never knew that.
How could she? She had only the evidence of his rude behaviour in Hertfordshire.
He was aware that, since they met again in London, things had changed slightly between him and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
It might have been the positive influence of his family—perhaps the earl, perhaps Georgiana’s sweet manners—but he sensed that Elizabeth was more favourable towards him.
The day of the sleigh ride, he felt her strong reaction as he brushed the snow from her clothes.
At the ball, he was certain she was not displeased to be in his company and to dance with him. She had smiled at him, and when they danced, she flirted with him. That was precisely what drove him to the conclusion that she would welcome his proposal.
Consequently, he had presented himself before her with a proposal expressed in the worst possible manner; Darcy could acknowledge it once he regained control of himself.
With disbelief and severe reproach, he recollected the entire discussion and understood that her criticisms were less than he deserved.
He had been insensitive to her feelings, and he severely offended her family.
His choice of words could easily mislead any woman into believing his proposal was not an honourable one, especially if she was induced to believe he was already engaged.
From what quarter that information had reached her was not even worth considering—perhaps from Wickham, perhaps from others.
He was aware of the rumour and did nothing to contradict it—until the damage was impossible to repair.
She had been unfair in her accusations, certainly, but he was no gentleman in his manners—not at all! He had no hope that she would ever speak to him again, nor could he hope she would ever forgive him.
The revelation that Elizabeth still held Wickham in high esteem was especially disturbing, and while he admitted to himself that he was jealous, he also worried that she might discover Wickham’s true character when it was too late.
He decided then that, if there were no possible way for him to make amends and win her forgiveness, there was one thing he could do.
It was his duty to share his side of the story of his past dealings with Wickham.
It was highly unlikely that she would agree to speak to him privately and listen to his arguments; in fact, it was unlikely that she would agree to speak with him at all, ever again.
There was only one solution, so he spent the entire evening and night putting together the most difficult letter he had written in his entire life.
When morning came, he began the lengthy journey back to London.
When he arrived in Grosvenor Square, the expression on Georgiana’s face melted his heart. He had abandoned her without any explanation. She had every reason to feel the same degree of anger as he felt of guilt, but she smiled and cuddled to his chest, happy and relieved.
At dawn the next day, he decided to call on Mrs Gardiner and ask her permission to give Elizabeth a letter. He could have asked Georgiana to deliver the letter privately, of course, but he could not expose either his sister or Elizabeth to such a delicate situation.
Once he made the decision, he could not bear to wait for a proper visiting hour, so he fetched the carriage and drove to the park where he walked around to clear his thoughts.
Fortunately, the park was empty, barren and frozen.
No reasonable person would venture outside at that hour and in such weather—almost no reasonable person.
A few steps ahead of him, stepping carefully along the frozen path, lost in her thoughts, her hair down and covered with snow, was Elizabeth.
The moment he had desired for so many days was upon him.
She was alone, and he meant to use that chance to speak to her, to apologise for his outrageous behaviour, to explain to her that…
Her eyes met his, and he could see she was frightened, shocked, disturbed and she had no desire to speak to him at all.
“Would you do me the honour of reading this letter?”
She was still silent, staring at the letter, and then she took it—and he left. It was done.
∞∞∞
Unable to understand the happenstance of such an unexpected meeting and struggling to comprehend what compelled Mr Darcy to write her a letter, Elizabeth stared at the two pieces of paper—written quite through in a very close hand—now lying open on her bed, drying.
She changed her clothes, and for a moment, she looked in the mirror and wondered what he might think after seeing her in such a dishevelled state. Yet, that was the least reason for concern; his opinion of her must be so low that her appearance mattered little.
So he returned to Town—why did Georgiana not say a word?—and he spent time writing her and came to hand the letter to her in person. How long had he been walking around the cold park?
With the strongest curiosity and equal worry, she began reading.
Be not alarmed, Miss Bennet, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were earlier so disgusting to you…
You will, I hope, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention in reading this, but I felt it was necessary.
Two offences of a very different nature, and by no means of equal magnitude, you laid to my charge, and both need to be clarified.
The first mentioned was, that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had detached Mr Bingley from your sister…
Her eyes eagerly ran along the page, anxious to discover his explanation regarding the role he had played in separating Mr Bingley from Jane.
At first, Darcy’s admission of his interference and his poor attempt at excusing himself by explaining his reasons made her angry and resentful.
The fact that he admitted his error and made efforts to reunite the couple did not diminish his mistake.
If fate had not made them meet again, or Mrs Gardiner had not been a friend of the Matlocks, it was likely that Jane and Mr Bingley would have been separated forever and their chance of happiness ruined.
For that, he could not be forgiven so easily.
However, since her sister’s present state of joy was a source of comfort, these revelations did not affect Elizabeth as much as they would have two weeks earlier.
Then, when she reached the part where he referred to Mr Wickham, she continued to read word after word, her eyes burning, her head spinning, her breathing heavy.
… My father and Lord Matlock were not only fond of this young man’s society, whose manners were always engaging, they also had the highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, my father intended to provide a living for him.
As for my cousins and me, it is many years since we first began to think of Wickham as unworthy of such benefaction.
The vicious propensities and the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friends, could not escape the observation of young men of nearly the same age as himself who had opportunities to observe him in unguarded moments, which my father and uncle could not have.