Chapter 13 #3
"Miss Bennet, you appear troubled. Will you enlighten me as to the cause of your distress?" Bingley inquired, his voice filled with genuine concern.
"Yes, Mr. Bingley, I shall tell you. Promise me that you shall not interrupt me. I harbour doubts about my own ability to navigate this conversation," she pleaded.
Bingley had no choice but to agree to her request, vowing to remain silent as she began her narrative. He sat before her, patiently listening as she recounted the harrowing tale about her sister. Once she concluded, they sat in heavy silence before she spoke again.
“Mr. Bingley, you previously stated that you would wait for my uncle and Colonel Forster to rescue Lydia before formally seeking my hand.
However, that course of action is no longer tenable.
They have ceased their search for Lydia.
Furthermore, our plan of portraying Lydia as lost at sea is just that—a plan.
It may succeed, but there is a serious possibility that it will not. "
Bingley could no longer contain himself. "What is it that you are trying to convey, Miss Bennet?" His voice revealed a touch of roughness, as his heart clenched within him.
“Mr. Bingley, I shall be plain with you.
My family is now entangled in a grand deceit, one that could be revealed at any time.
Our reputation is hanging by a thread, and I don't want you to suffer the consequences if it all unravels.
I can't stand the thought of living with you under the constant threat of ruin. Thus, I beseech you, depart from my presence and never return. I release you from our courtship. There is no need for you to even visit my father, for I shall inform him myself”.
It was plain and harsh. Bingley felt the sting.
Jane
Mr. Bingley, do not make this any more difficult for us. I implore you, go away from me.
Unfortunately for Jane, he didn’t.
"Is this truly your final decision, Miss Bennet? Do I not have a say in this matter? What if I were to offer you my hand in marriage, regardless of the obstacles you've mentioned? What if my love for you surpasses any fear I may have of the impending doom you warn me of?" Bingley inquired.
Oh, dear man, how I adore you.
"No, Mr. Bingley. I do not wish for you to make such a sacrifice. You have an unmarried sister and the dreams of living as a gentleman, as you yourself have expressed to me. You do not desire a wife from a ruined family. I shall never allow you to share in my downfall," Jane insisted.
"Miss Bennet, what if I am not troubled by the concerns you raise?
What if I am willing to risk everything, including my dreams and reputation, for a life with you?
What if I were to propose to you at this very moment?
" To Jane's horror, Mr. Bingley rose from his seat, as if preparing to make a declaration. No, please don’t.
Reacting hastily, Jane interjected.
"Mr. Bingley, I implore you, look into my eyes and tell me that you harbour no worries for your sister's future, your reputation, or the dreams that may shatter.
Tell me without a shred of doubt that you are prepared, wholly and entirely, to offer me your hand in marriage.
Look at my eyes and tell me this," Jane locked her gaze with his when she said this.
Bingley
There was no way he was going to lie to the woman in front of him. It was inconceivable.
Bingley was scared. For all they had done to him, he still held deep love for his family.
Fulfilling his father's greatest desire of acquiring an estate and living as a gentleman had been the lifelong dream he cherished since his youth.
Though he may have temporarily set aside those aspirations and been tempted to propose to his beloved, it would have been an act driven by passion and affection rather than true conviction.
He could never honestly declare to the lady standing before him that he held no concern for the obstacles she mentioned, obstacles that could impact their future together.
Thus, Bingley found himself at a loss for words, a rarity in his life.
“Mr. Bingley, I understand your pain. I, too, had hoped for a different outcome.
I must also confess that had you proposed to me, I would have declined your offer.
As much as I adore you, I could never allow you to suffer alongside my family.
Therefore, I beseech you, go away from me.
If you truly love me, never appear before me again.
That is the one thing I ask of you," she spoke with a mix of sadness and determination.
Observing the sincerity etched upon her countenance, Bingley discerned the truth in her assertions.
She would indeed have declined his proposal, had it been made.
An unexplained fury suddenly gripped him, its object unclear to his consciousness.
All he comprehended was an unfathomable rage swelling within him.
Without even taking his leave, he turned sharply and strode towards the horse, leaving his beloved lady behind.
Elizabeth
Elizabeth, who had been observing the scene from afar, swiftly hastened and enveloped her sister from behind.
Their gazes remained fixated on the diminishing silhouette of the departing gentleman.
With each passing moment, his figure dissolved into an infinitesimal speck, until finally, it disappeared entirely.
Jane immediately turned and crumpled into the solace of her sister’s arms, succumbing to a torrent of tears that flowed unabated.
Elizabeth held on to her dear sister as if her very existence depended on it.
She was also in tears, mirroring the anguish that enveloped them both.
Her thoughts flew back to the memories of two young girls, growing up together, sharing dreams of marrying for love and promising each other the same.
That cherished dream lay shattered and irretrievable.
Jane’s love just walked out of their life forever.
Elizabeth’s love, he had already left in tears after she cruelly and heartlessly rejected his proposal.
Then it hit her.
Good heavens! I love him. I love Mr. Darcy. What a wretched time to realize it.
It was indeed a wretched time, with the promise of an even wretched future. All she could see was doom and gloom in their life moving forward. In the span of a single month, their once-promising lives had plummeted into the depths of despair.
After her sobs subsided, Jane continued to cling on to her sister for some more time.
They remained seated upon a fallen log, locked in their embrace.
When it was clear that their absence would be noticed, Jane finally disentangled herself from Elizabeth's arms and rose to her feet.
While trying to correct her appearance, she spoke in a low voice.
“Lizzy, I shall confide in our father, revealing the end of my courtship with Mr. Bingley. I shall implore him to keep this knowledge to himself. With the news about Lydia arriving at any moment from now, mama will be inconsolable as it is. Let us spare her further sadness, shall we? I see no reason to broach this matter for some time to come.”
Elizabeth saw the sense in this and nodded her approval.
As they made their way back indoors, Elizabeth's gaze caught sight of a solitary figure on horseback, steadily approaching in the distance. It was unmistakably the express rider dispatched from Brighton, bearing tidings that could alter the course of their lives forever.
This is it. This is the end of all our dreams.
Rosings
Anne
Anne sat, contemplating Georgiana's latest letter. It alluded to a newfound friend, yet the friend's name was mysteriously missing from the letter. Anne recognized this as the first instance her reserved cousin, and friend, hinted at a connection beyond their family.
Who is this mysterious new friend? Why the omission of this friend’s name?
Anne longed to compose a response inquiring about this friend, but fatigue was setting in.
The past week had been a struggle, besieged by intermittent bouts of laboured breathing.
She valiantly concealed her ailment, adamant that neither her mother nor her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson knew of her discomfort.
Anne bore the burden of a weak heart, a secret she had guarded for the past two years. No soul in this world, not even her own mother, was privy to this knowledge. Anne had resolved to keep it like that for as long as possible.
Returning the letter to the table, Anne's mind turned to Georgiana's mysterious new friend.
How does it feel when one has a friend?
Netherfield
Mrs. Nicholls
Mrs. Nicholls harboured a genuine affection for her young master, although she perpetually wished he had more agreeable sisters.
Mr. Bingley, possessing a genial and considerate disposition, consistently treated his staff with kindness.
He was far from being a demanding master, rendering him quite agreeable to work for.
When her master stormed into the front parlour, summoning her to follow him into the study, Mrs. Nicholls sensed immediately that something was amiss.
Being aware of his courtship with the lovely Miss Bennet, it did not require great deduction for her to surmise the cause of her young master's anger.
Oh no, has something untoward occurred with Miss Bennet? Surely, she would never reject him. She is the gentlest soul I know.
As she stood before her agitated young master, he began speaking in a hurried manner, his words tumbling out.
"Mrs. Nicholls, I must inform you that I shall be departing for London today itself.
I intend to undertake the journey on horseback.
I request you to pack my belongings and arrange for them to be sent in my carriage, purposely left here for that purpose.
My valet will assist you in gathering my possessions. "