Chapter 2
Dinner had tested Darcy's newfound politeness.
Caroline Bingley had been in rare form. She spoke about Hertfordshire and nothing else, recounting every social engagement in minute detail and dropping sarcastic comments about the locals.
She refrained from mentioning Elizabeth or the Bennets but her meaning was unmistakable.
Georgiana was visibly uncomfortable at the mention of the militia and ate in silence.
Darcy felt helpless to reassure her and was sure that had Elizabeth been here she would have known how to comfort his sister.
When Georgiana had made her acquaintance yesterday, Elizabeth had known almost instinctively how to encourage and coax her.
His sister had never been so easy in new company as she had been with Elizabeth.
Guilt resurfaced as he considered his behaviour towards her family.
The almost flippant way in which he had dismissed Jane Bennet’s feelings.
“Miss Bingley, I think since we are in Derbyshire and not in Hertfordshire we may as well speak of this countryside if you do not mind.” He had finally interrupted her diatribe, causing her to remain silent for at least the next course.
He and Georgiana had both excused themselves soon after dinner preferring to retire rather than continue the conversation on the merits of outspoken women that Miss Bingley had next been determined to pursue.
After a night of uneasy sleep he got up early the next day with a resolve to finally visit Elizabeth.
He strode towards the stable impatient to reach the inn in Lambton as he considered his family’s reaction if Elizabeth ever accepted him.
His uncle, Judge Darcy, was already aware of her.
Georgiana, alarmed by her brother’s incoherent and unkempt state, since his return from Kent, had sought him out.
Their uncle, a gentle-spirited man with a particular fondness for his niece and nephew, had arrived at his townhouse at once.
The servants had clearly been anxious, as Hawkins, the butler, allowed him into the drawing room despite Darcy’s strict instructions that he was not home to visitors.
After waiting unsuccessfully for his nephew, his uncle had made his way to the study.
He had been shocked by the scene in front of him.
Darcy lay slumped on a chaise, inebriated and unshaven, muttering disjointedly as his valet attempted to rouse him.
The man known for his impeccable appearance and composure, who had never tolerated even a hair out of place, was now in such a condition that his uncle scarcely recognized him.
He had immediately ordered Darcy taken to his chambers and all liquor removed from his reach. He had informed the staff that he would return in the morning—and he expected to speak to his nephew the moment he was capable of speaking coherently.
It occurred to him as he reflected that he had yet to thank his uncle for his interference, otherwise he would still be wallowing in sorrow instead of contemplating a second chance with Elizabeth.
He remembered his uncle sitting him down and forcing him to speak after he had encountered his drunk and sorry self.
“My dear boy, I have never known you to indulge. Something must be terribly wrong; I beg you to confide in me. I know I am not your father but to me you are as beloved as my own son. I cannot see you in such agony. Will you not tell me what is bothering you?”
Such honest entreaty from one so dear had finally brought him to his senses, and abject shame had filled him as he thought about his behaviour.
From a young age, his father had advocated strict adherence to propriety, but it had been his uncle who had encouraged the boyhood mischief and pranks that defined childhood innocence.
After his father had passed, his uncle had stood by him and guided him.
His mother's family, though supportive, were all about pride, duty and one's standing in society, but his uncle had always valued his happiness above social considerations. The extreme worry on his face had once again reminded him of Miss Elizabeth’s words.
“Selfish disdain of the feelings of others.” How true she had been in her judgment.
Now that he had finally acknowledged his faults and deficiencies, all he had done was wallow in self-pity, clearly disregarding the feelings of others.
“Uncle, I have been a fool, a pompous and arrogant fool, and in my conceit, I have lost the most precious opportunity.” He confessed quietly.
At his uncle’s gentle prodding, he managed, with some coherence, to lay out the whole of his acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth.
His obnoxious proposal and then the equally officious letter he had written to her justifying his character were all laid bare for inspection.
His uncle had listened patiently and then patted his shoulder and responded.
“It is not all your fault. Men in your position are always treated with deference and solicitude. Young ladies are taught to be obliging and agreeable without ever questioning a gentleman and the more fortune one possesses, the more obsequiously he is treated with. You have always been upright and honest to a fault and have kept yourself aloof to all the vices commonly found in gentlemen of your position. You do everything correctly and you take pride in your actions and judgements. All of us who know you and love you are more apt to laugh at your prideful proclamation than to take offence. But this remarkable young lady was unaware of the depth of your character. Had you separated an undesirable suitor from her sister, I am sure she would have been obliged but you erred and that was your fault. You made a mistake, Fitzwilliam, do not continue to berate yourself about it, but try to become a better man from this experience and hope that she may still reconsider.”
“I doubt she would consent to being in my company again, but you are right, I will try to become the man that she could respect. I just do not know how to go on with this hollowness within me. All I see everywhere is Miss Elizabeth Bennet with her fiery expression cutting through my hopes of matrimonial felicity.” Darcy had whispered, covering his face with his hands.
“Find a purpose, exhaust yourself physically, until your mind has no energy to torment you and then think what you need to do to correct your errors and improve your manners. Take one day at a time. You are surrounded with people who care for you, and if to nobody else, then talk to Georgiana, she is maturing into a graceful young lady and will be your anchor in your time of need. Share your burdens, nephew, do not shut yourself away,” his uncle gently advised.
From then on, he started a rigorous regimen at Angelo’s and Jackson’s.
He had always been good at fencing but had only passably enjoyed boxing, but now it was as if he had a well of energy that he needed to expend.
There was no time for chatting in clubs or idle conversations over tea.
He had a regimented schedule, and some like-minded individuals were even invited to Darcy House for friendly practice where the ballroom had been completely transformed.
It was after a fortnight of this physical exertion that he was able to blunt the constant echo of Miss Bennet’s words.
“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.”
******
The neighing of the horses brought him back to the present.
After asking a groom to saddle his horse he made his way towards the inn.
He was determined to speak to Elizabeth not just about mundane matters but also to apologise for his insulting proposal.
He remembered how certain Georgiana had been about Elizabeth forgiving him.
He had finally spoken to her after his conversation with his uncle and apologised for his behaviour.
He had confessed his feelings regarding Elizabeth to her and his inept attempt to woo her, she had been indignant on Elizabeth’s behalf.
“Fitzwilliam, you never did strike me as intolerant. Her family appears to me as so many other country folks from around Lambton. I am surprised by your harsh judgement,” Georgiana had gently rebuked him when he had spoken about Elizabeth's family and her lack of connections.
“You are correct that I was being a harsh judge, probably because of my partiality towards Miss Elizabeth. I had never felt such a strong attraction towards a lady and was disappointed by her position in life. So, though I was daily impressed by the lady’s superior manner and conversation, I was equally convinced that the gulf between us was too wide for me to form any attachment. ” He had finally confessed the truth.
“My general behaviour in the neighbourhood was of haughty disdain or at best a bored nonchalance. Miss Bingley was constantly at my side with some caustic remark or the other on the local populace. More than once I found myself agreeing with her, considering Bingley a fool for his engaging and inviting manner. In my arrogance I did not realise that I was offending the only woman who had engaged my interest. To my dismay Miss Elizabeth’s dislike of me was settled from the very evening of our introduction when Bingley had tried to present her to me as an agreeable dance partner and I had reacted by calling her, “Not handsome enough to tempt me.” Georgiana had gasped at this but had quickly composed herself.
He had then spoken about Bingley and Jane and about Miss Bingley’s interference and his support but then had told her what had finally made him leave Hertfordshire.
“I was running away from the depth of my own feelings which seemed at war with my duty to the Darcy name. Then Hertfordshire became even more objectionable to me as George Wickham joined the local militia and gained favour with Miss Elizabeth.”
Another rider shot past him, causing his horse to start, bringing him sharply back to the present.
He pulled back the reins and slowed down for a few minutes.
His emotions were in a state of turmoil.
He slowly dismounted and tied the horse to a nearby tree, deciding to walk the rest of the way as he remembered how shaken Georgiana had been on hearing about that reprobate.
She had audibly gasped and had required him to comfort her as best as he could.
Yet she had gathered her courage and asked him to continue with his story.