Chapter 6 - Revelation
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Darcy
Darcy's eyes lingered on the letter before him, a missive addressed to Mr. Goulding of Hertfordshire. The stack of correspondence, long delayed by inclement weather, was finally going to be dispatched.
Mrs. Bingley's health had improved. Darcy had not yet seen her as she remained confined to her chamber.
Her sister was also on the mend. She was seen walking about without the aid of Mr. Archer's stick.
Darcy had reverted to his previous tactic of avoiding her.
She would soon go to her husband, leaving him behind to live with these haunting memories.
So, why create additional memories by staying close to her?
That night at the stable itself could torment him for the rest of his days.
Bingley had sought permission yesterday to extend his stay at Pemberley for another fortnight.
He obviously learned from his mistakes and will only travel once he is fully certain of his wife’s recovery.
Darcy granted it freely, saying that they can stay here for as long as they want.
He was saddened that his friend felt the need to ask for permission.
Once, such a request might never have been necessary.
The topic they both avoided addressing loomed between them, palpable and undeniable.
Pushing aside the letter, he settled back into his chair, aware that he had yet to write to Georgiana.
She would be worried for him, and he vowed to pen his letter soon, lest she take it upon herself to journey to Pemberley to check on his well-being.
He didn’t mind seeing Georgiana in Pemberley, but he could not bear the thought of her undertaking an unnecessary journey in such unpredictable weather.
His intention to write to his sister after breakfast was disrupted by unforeseen events that unfolded during the morning meal—the very repast that Mrs. Bingley graced with her presence for the first time at Pemberley.
Jane
Jane's decision to join the breakfast gathering was intentional. She wanted to escape her monotonous meals in her sickly room and, more importantly, to express her deep gratitude to the master of the house. She was certain that without his gallant interventions, she wouldn't have survived.
She had already surprised the kind housekeeper with her heartfelt appreciation, embracing her warmly and kissing her cheek to convey her sincere regard.
However, when it came to thanking Lady Catherine, Jane was more cautious, remembering Lizzy's stories about the lady's commanding and intimidating past.
Yet it was Mr. Darcy to whom she yearned to offer her deepest gratitude—the very man with whom she had been denied the opportunity to converse during their prior encounter at Netherfield, many years ago.
On that occasion, Jane's indisposition had kept her distant from the company, and Mr. Darcy, ever reticent, had maintained a certain reserve.
Though she had heard that he had grown more approachable with time, Jane pondered how she could ever sufficiently demonstrate her gratitude to a man who had willingly risked his own life to preserve hers. Could such a debt ever truly be repaid?
As the company gathered around the table, with Mr. Darcy seated at the head and Jane positioned at a distance, she keenly observed his interactions with her husband.
A discernible tension hung in the air, not born of animosity, but rather a shared melancholy over the loss of warmth that once adorned their friendship.
It was evident that they both cared deeply for each other, yet an unspoken, metaphorical elephant now stood between them, preventing an open reconciliation.
Well, men are fools. I now know how I can show my gratitude to Mr. Darcy.
She didn’t get the chance. Someone beat her to it.
Hurst
Hurst cast a sidelong glance at his wife, who sat beside him at the table. Although she mindlessly ate what was placed before her, her thoughts clearly dwelled elsewhere. He found himself wholly ignorant of the turmoil within her mind.
In recent times, she had started to open up to him, a positive shift in their marital dynamics.
Jane's illness had demanded constant supervision, leaving them with little opportunity for personal moments.
However, during the rare instances they did share time together, Hurst discerned a deliberate effort on her part to draw closer to him.
He recalled with fondness the night she had ventured into his chamber—a first in their married life, signalling a newfound intimacy that filled him with hope.
Then George decided to do the unthinkable and turn everything on its head. That night, Louisa returned to her old, brooding self. To be fair to her, she still spent more time with him than in the past. Yet a certain unease weighed upon her. Hurst remained oblivious to the cause of her distress.
As he continued to gaze at his wife, Mr. Darcy called him.
“Hurst, I haven’t had the chance to spend time with George these past two days. I understand you've been taking the boys to the stable every day. My man at the stable informed me that the pony is warming up to George."
Ever since that day of the ordeal, Hurst made sure to take both boys to the stable daily, even enduring the snow, to familiarise them with the horses.
"Yes, it appears George has suddenly developed a keen interest in horses—a fascination I find quite puzzling. He never displayed such a preference before. Nevertheless, I shan't discourage him. After all, one day, he shall need to learn to ride," Hurst replied, keeping his gaze on Louisa.
It was Charles who unwittingly uttered the words that set everything in motion.
"He truly frightened me that night. I was convinced I'd find him in the attic.
To think that a six-year-old boy wandered out into that weather for nearly a quarter of a mile is beyond comprehension.
Elizabeth, I won't blame you for going to the stable that night, though I was quite alarmed at that time.
I recall Caroline remarking on your tendency to walk.
She used to say you were an excellent walker. "
Hurst heard the clang of Louisa's spoon dropping onto her plate. She stood up immediately, her countenance reflecting acute distress. Hurst tried to catch her hand in support and coax her to sit, but she took her hands away from his and shook her head.
What in the world is she doing?
Louisa
Louisa had already decided to arrange a private meeting with her brother, intending to disclose Caroline's revelations to him.
She would allow him to determine the fate of their family, even if it meant severing ties with Caroline.
After all, Caroline deserved such consequences for her myriad past transgressions.
As for her own penance, she would accept whatever Charles deemed appropriate.
However, she had not yet summoned the courage to confide in her husband.
Then there was the matter of Mr. Darcy, a gentleman with whom Louisa had exchanged no more than courteous greetings. The notion of laying bare all in his presence seemed inconceivable, but if Charles deemed it necessary to inform him, then so be it.
Her plans, however, unravelled during breakfast—the first occasion they all sat together for a meal since their arrival.
The tension between her brother and Mr. Darcy was palpable, forcing her to realize that she had only considered the situation from her and Caroline's perspective.
She knew Charles cared deeply for Mr. Darcy and longed to rekindle their old connection.
How much had he suffered due to their severed friendship over the years?
And what about Mr. Darcy's own pain? Why had she only sought to shield Caroline from potential consequences, neglecting the victims of her sister's actions?
Tensions reached a breaking point when Charles mentioned Caroline's disparaging words about Elizabeth.
It hadn't been Caroline who first uttered them; it had been Louisa.
She had never considered the implications of those words when she whispered them into Caroline's ear.
At the time, she had only wanted to support her sister's desires.
She hadn't expected Caroline to repeat them publicly either.
Hearing Charles repeat those hurtful words in front of everyone, especially when Elizabeth had endured a perilous journey to retrieve her son, became too much for Louisa to bear.
The food stuck in her throat, and she abruptly rose from her seat.
Though her dear husband attempted to console her, she recognized that she had to reveal everything herself; this was her burden to bear.
However, seeing everyone staring at her, she realized she was ill prepared for this conversation. Just as she was contemplating using any excuse to withdraw to her chambers, her brother spoke up.
Bingley
Bingley sensed that Louisa had something of importance to share, although he remained entirely unaware of its nature.
He knew his sister well—she was not one to feel at ease speaking before a group, often preferring to remain in the background.
In the presence of imposing figures like Darcy and Lady Catherine, she needed support. Bingley was determined to provide it.
"What troubles you, Louisa? I perceive that you have something on your mind but appear uncertain about how to commence.
If you lack confidence, there is no need to proceed with this in the presence of others.
You may speak with any of us privately—myself, Jane, or anyone," he offered with reassurance.
Louisa appeared to contemplate his offer for a moment before finally responding in a low voice.