Chapter 10
Hunsford Parsonage, Kent
Elizabeth
Nearly an hour had passed, and Elizabeth remained by the path where she usually encountered Mr. Darcy.
What am I doing here? How can I expect Mr. Darcy to come after all the things I said to him yesterday?
The preceding night proved harrowing, with Mr. Darcy's tear-filled countenance haunting her every time she closed her eyes. After grappling for almost two hours to find sleep, she conceded defeat and rose from her bed. She resorted to the practice that always calmed her mind: walking.
As Elizabeth paced back and forth in her chambers, she replayed all her interactions with Mr. Darcy since the day they first met.
She remembered the initial attraction she felt upon first seeing him, an attraction so strong and overwhelming that it made it hard for her to look away.
She recalled the moment when their eyes met for the first time, a moment as magical as any she had ever experienced.
She also remembered the pain she felt upon hearing of Mr. Darcy's insult.
It now dawned on her that she had always been drawn to Mr. Darcy.
Whether it was love or hate, he consistently occupied her thoughts.
Her mistake had been to close her mind to him completely after the night of the assembly.
She was so wounded by that insult that instead of giving him a chance to redeem himself, she built a wall of prejudice that blinded her to his good qualities.
Even more troubling was that she allowed words from people like Mr. Wickham to penetrate this wall, unquestioned and unverified.
Thinking of Mr. Wickham brought about another realisation.
She no longer believed Mr. Wickham's story.
She couldn't fathom how a gentleman who had shown such genuine concern for her welfare, even after she declined his proposal, could be the same person capable of deceiving his childhood companion.
Even without discussing it with her father, she was now certain that there was more to Mr. Wickham's story, and she had erred in accepting it as the absolute truth.
Discovering that her father had been aware of Mr. Wickham's true nature all along and had never attempted to warn his daughters was another shock. Oh, father, I know you are lazy and indolent. I still love you. But I will never forgive you for this.
After three hours of pacing around her chambers, she finally returned to bed, utterly exhausted, and fell asleep.
Despite the delayed slumber, she awoke at her usual hour and hastily made her way to the spot where she typically encountered Mr. Darcy.
She still didn't know what to say to him if she saw him again, but she waited for him nonetheless.
She continued to wait. He never came.
Rochester, between London and Kent
Darcy
While the lady whom he loved with all his heart waited for him, Darcy raced his carriage along the road to London. His sole desire was to distance himself from her, yearning to be as far away as possible.
Upon his return to Rosings the previous evening, following the ill-fated proposal, Darcy made a beeline for his chambers to restore order to his appearance.
The last thing he desired was for someone to observe the anguish etched on his countenance and inquire about it.
Upon descending, he found that dinner had already concluded.
He swiftly declared his intention to set off for London early the next morning.
As anticipated, his aunt conveyed her displeasure, even broaching the subject of his supposed engagement to Anne.
Nevertheless, Darcy remained resolute and instructed Richard to make preparations for the journey, ensuring an early departure at dawn.
Richard, attuned to Darcy's moods, nodded in understanding.
Just like the lady at the parsonage, Darcy stayed awake long into the night.
He was confused, hurt, humiliated, and overwhelmed with a profound sense of despair.
He couldn't believe how his life had nosedived in the past six months.
The first shock was finding Wickham and Georgiana together at Ramsgate.
Now he had been rejected by the only woman he could ever love in this life.
Everywhere he looked, he saw nothing but doom and despair.
Little did he know, things were about to get worse.
Richard
Richard had been waiting for his cousin to speak ever since their journey began. They were now halfway to London, and his patience was wearing thin.
"Darcy, where are you hurrying off to? I can't recall you driving so recklessly before," he exclaimed.
It was the truth. Darcy had always been a careful rider, constantly aware of the importance of his life for the people he cared about.
When no answers were forthcoming, Richard decided to get to the point.
"Darcy, what happened between you and Miss Bennet at the parsonage yesterday?" he inquired, noting Darcy's startled reaction as their eyes met.
"How did you find out about my visit to the Parsonage yesterday?" Darcy asked, sounding anxious.
"Darcy, I've known about your affection for Miss Bennet since the very first day at Rosings.
Anne is also aware of it. You're not as inscrutable as you think, dear cousin.
Aunt Catherine might have her own suspicions based on your behaviour in her parlour when Miss Bennet was present.
That's probably why she's been keeping us busy every morning, to limit your chances of spending time with Miss Bennet.
However, she's unaware of your visit to the parsonage yesterday," Richard replied.
"Well, our aunt no longer needs to worry about myself and Miss Bennet, although I shall never marry Anne.
I proposed to Miss Bennet yesterday, and she declined.
She even said I'm the last man in this world she'd consider marrying," Richard could hear the pain in Darcy's voice. It was time for some honesty.
"Cousin, I was aware that Miss Bennet's sentiments towards you were not of love. I discerned it from the very first day I saw the two of you together. I also discussed this with Anne. We wondered at the reasons. What did you do to offend her, Darcy?" Richard asked.
"I know not, Richard. When she rejected me, she mentioned two grievances. First, she was convinced that I was the one who separated Bingley from her sister, although I'm not sure how she reached that conclusion. Her second accusation pertained..."
"Blast it! Was that her sister? Blast it!" Richard covered his face in his palms as he swore. What have I done!
"What's the matter, Richard?" Darcy asked in a concerned voice.
There was nothing to be done now. It was time for more, brutal, honesty.
"It was me, Darcy. It was I who informed Miss Elizabeth about you saving Bingley from a matchmaking mother and daughter.
I did not know it was Miss Elizabeth's sister.
I saw a despondent Bingley at White's before our journey to Kent.
I asked about it, and he mentioned a lady in Hertfordshire he'd fallen for.
He also mentioned his gratitude for you for saving him from a potentially unhappy marriage.
Bingley never mentioned any names, as was proper.
So I never considered the possibility it was a Bennet lady.
" Richard paused to see Darcy's reaction. Instead of anger, he saw pain.
Darcy
Gratitude was the last thing Darcy wanted from his involvement in separating Miss Bennet from Bingley. Now that he is aware of Miss Bennet’s affection for his friend, Darcy was regretting his involvement.
"Why, in heaven's name, Richard? I know you well.
You can prattle on about your wartime tales like a parrot, but when it comes to matters of significance, especially concerning a lady's reputation, you never open your mouth. Why did you choose to divulge this to Elizabeth?” He was so wound up that he completely missed the use of her christian name.
“As I said, I discerned very early that Miss Bennet held you in contempt. I also knew you were struggling with your attraction to her. I know you Darcy. I could see where your struggles will eventually lead you. Your love will always overpower every other concern. You are like that. I knew the day would come when you would propose. I sought to alter her impression of you before that moment arrived. I encountered her yesterday afternoon and spoke with her about your love for Pemberley and how you take care of your acquaintances. I chose Bingley’s case as an example. Forgive me, Darcy. It was a mistake.”
Darcy's ire dissipated on seeing the genuine remorse etched on his cousin's countenance.
“There is nothing to forgive, Richard. I suspect her aversion towards me stems from a different cause.
After all, My talk with Bingley happened after we returned to London.
Oh hindsight, her demeanour towards me has consistently been one of disdain or antipathy, even from the start of our acquaintance.
Did you know she spurned my invitation to dance thrice before I finally prevailed upon her at the Netherfield ball?
She even declined me on the very day of our introduction. "
Richard
Richard found himself at a loss for an answer. He was utterly bewildered, a rare occurrence for him.
"You mentioned two accusations, Darcy. What was the second one?" Richard attempted to find a connection to make sense of it all.
"It will interest you. It pertains to Wickham. You are familiar with his favourite tale of me withholding his inheritance. He used it to turn Miss Elizabeth against me."
"That wretched scoundrel. How did Wickham become involved in this?" Richard began to realize that the situation was taking a turn for the worse. That’s what normally happens when Wickham decides to get involved.