Chapter 15 #2
“I’m afraid not,” Elizabeth returned, knowing that she ought to tell him what had occurred, especially if Miss Darcy remained indisposed for the rest of the day and missed supper. “Might we speak in the library or the study?”
Mr Darcy hesitated at this request for a private audience, and Elizabeth only narrowly prevented herself from sarcastically asking whether he had more important matters to attend to than his sister’s health.
“Should Georgiana not join us?” he said after a few seconds. “Where is she?”
“Your sister was taken ill while we were at the park. I would rather explain the circumstances in private than in the hallway,” Elizabeth informed him.
Immediately upon hearing this, Mr Darcy strode ahead of her and pushed open the library doors. In the room, he gestured for her to take a chair while he stood some distance away at the mantelpiece.
“What happened to Georgiana? Was there some accident? Have you called a physician?” he demanded, his deep blue eyes full of concern.
“There was no accident, only a shock that made Miss Darcy too faint to continue her exercise. She is sleeping now. I can make little sense of the matter, but hoped that you might understand it better —”
“Miss Bennet,” Mr Darcy interrupted her impatiently. “What happened to my sister?”
“We saw Mr George Wickham in Hyde Park, at some distance. At the mere sight of him, Miss Darcy almost collapsed, and I had to take her back to the carriage at once.”
“Wickham?! Good God, what did he say to her?”
Elizabeth’s eyes opened wider at this oath, relatively mild but unusual from the lips of Mr Darcy, who was usually very formal in his speech with the wider world, and proper in his choice of words before his sister and Elizabeth.
“Nothing, we were too far away for any speech. It really was the sight alone that upset her. I am quite aware that relations between you and Mr Wickham are such that I would never have brought Miss Darcy into his presence.”
Mr Darcy’s brow had grown thunderous at the brief account of what had transpired in the park, although Elizabeth had the sense that his anger was directed more towards Mr Wickham than anyone else. His next words only confirmed this.
“I will not have Georgiana’s path cross with George Wickham under any circumstances. I believed him gone from London and unlikely to return. If I had known there was any chance of such an encounter, I would have kept Georgiana with me. Confound him!”
“Mr Darcy, why was Miss Darcy so very affected today?” Elizabeth put to him, ignoring his second, stronger oath. “Do you think she has taken your own enmity towards Mr Wickham too much to heart? I wondered if she was so afraid of your reaction that it made her ill.”
“What?!” he demanded, his brows knitting in incomprehension. “Georgiana has never had cause to fear me. I cannot believe she would say otherwise.”
“She did not,” Elizabeth corrected this misunderstanding clearly.
“It was the only way I could make sense of her strength of feeling. Given her age, she can hardly have known Mr Wickham so well as you. I therefore wondered if she was reacting to some interdiction from you rather than her own inclination.”
“George Wickham is a rogue and a blackguard,” Mr Darcy insisted. “If you only knew, Miss Bennet, you would not pose such ridiculous suppositions to me now.”
“Then tell me, Mr Darcy,” replied Elizabeth, angry at being called ridiculous. “Tell me what you can possibly have against poor Mr Wickham other than his lack of rank and fortune. Have you not punished him enough already?”
“He will never be punished enough for what he is. I can only keep him away from Georgiana. In that, if nothing else, I expect your full obedience, Miss Bennet. Companions must keep the rules of their employers.”
Elizabeth stood, casting him a furious glance. She found herself in the absurd position of wishing to argue with him without being quite sure where their main point of disagreement lay. She took a deep breath and mastered herself with an effort.
“I have already told you, Mr Darcy, that I would not have brought your sister into the presence of a man I know to be your enemy, however fairly or unfairly that enmity has been earned. Do you want me to give you my word?”
“Yes, I do,” he persisted.
“Very well, Mr Darcy. Even though we both know I would never have acted otherwise, I promise I will keep Miss Darcy from all contact with Mr Wickham. Will that do?”
Now she did not keep the sarcasm from her voice.
“Yes, thank you, Miss Bennet,” Mr Darcy returned with an equal edge to his voice.
As Elizabeth left the library, she closed the door behind her, not troubling to keep it from making a loud bang.
∞∞∞
Supper that night was almost unbearable.
Miss Darcy remained in her room, and Mr Darcy was glowering and sunk in his own silent thoughts, not that Elizabeth felt very much like making polite conversation.
If Mr Darcy was going to treat her like a servant, to be ordered about at his will, she would make no further attempt at amiability or cheerfulness in his presence.
The days that followed were little better, with perfunctory conversation from Mr Darcy at mealtimes and his role in their few outings always watchful and grim.
Elizabeth soon began to doubt that she had ever felt the green shoots of understanding, or even friendship, growing between her and Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Truly, he infuriated her beyond bearing.
If Mr Darcy had been entirely unpleasant or bad, it would have been easier to bear such rows and disagreements, Elizabeth reflected.
Unfortunately, his essential principles appeared to be good, even if he followed them in such a misguided fashion, and with such prejudices and arrogance.
However much his behaviour angered Elizabeth, it was impossible to either despise or disregard him. Part of her always respected him.
For example, she could not believe George Wickham guilty of any great crime beyond offending Mr Darcy’s dignity or undermining his standing with his father.
Yet she could see Mr Darcy’s own conviction of Mr Wickham’s black character, and also that his actions flowed solely from this belief and a wish to protect his sister, rather than from viciousness or vengeance.
Miss Darcy herself was quieter than usual too, following the incident in the park.
She wanted only to play on the pianoforte by herself, and was too listless for much conversation with Elizabeth.
After a private interview with her brother in his study, the morning after she was taken ill, the younger woman had returned to the music room subdued but unwilling to divulge whatever Mr Darcy had said.
Elizabeth felt inexperienced and helpless in the face of such household gloom.
She had tried and failed to challenge Mr Darcy on the present situation and did not want to make life any harder for Miss Darcy.
But could Elizabeth really bear this atmosphere for several months until Mrs Annesley returned to her post?
Presently she dreaded even the thought of the imminent long journey to Kent.
As she considered the Darcy family visit to Rosings, however, and the presence there of Miss Darcy’s aunt and two cousins, one her guardian, it occurred to Elizabeth that perhaps she need not stay in the household at all.
If Elizabeth gave her notice now, Georgiana Darcy could presumably stay with Lady Catherine and her daughter until Mrs Annesley came back to London.
The idea gave Elizabeth a surge of new energy and hope. Rising from the seat in the music room, where she had been reading while Georgiana played on the pianoforte with quiet melancholy, she excused herself and walked purposefully to her own private sitting room down the passage.
There, she took out paper, ink, and her writing tray before sitting down at the small desk, quill in hand.
Dear Mr Darcy
I have decided…
Elizabeth sat there for some minutes after writing the first few words of her letter, the mournful chords of Miss Darcy’s playing still echoing in her head.
What had she decided? That she no longer wished to stay in Darcy House?
That she no longer wished to work for Mr Darcy?
That she could no longer stand her own deeply conflicted feelings about him?
Part of Elizabeth did wish to stay here. Nor was her antipathy for Mr Darcy himself so very strong and certain that she could state it in writing. That left only her own discomfort with her disordered feelings following their latest row. Was that discomfort really enough to leave a good position?
Not wishing to waste paper, or make a wrong-headed decision, Elizabeth continued to sit and contemplate her words. When she left the music room, she had felt resolute. Now, she was more confused than ever about the best course to take, or even which course she wished to take.
“Miss Bennet?” asked an uncertain voice from the doorway. Elizabeth looked up in surprise, not having realised that the music had fallen silent and Miss Darcy had followed her to this sitting room. “Am I disturbing you?”
“Of course not,” Elizabeth said immediately, putting down the pen and smiling at Miss Darcy. “Do come in, if you will, although I am not doing anything very interesting.”
The young woman entered and came over to Elizabeth, her eyes glancing vaguely over the desk but then fixing there with a look of apprehension.
“You are writing to my brother,” Miss Darcy realised aloud, clasping her hands in front of her as her mind seemed to race ahead and reach an unwanted conclusion. “Oh, Miss Bennet, you are not going to leave, are you?”
Elizabeth’s initial silence confirmed Miss Darcy’s fears.
“I have been thinking about it,” Elizabeth confirmed truthfully. “I had not completely made up my mind.”
“It’s not because of me, is it?” asked the younger woman anxiously. “I know that my behaviour must have seemed strange to you this week.”