Chapter 7 #2
Though his loyalty moved her, Elizabeth had no intention of revealing Darcy’s identity to anyone, most especially her overprotective friend.
“You do not know him, so it makes little difference. Despite what you believe of him, he is a good man, a gentleman in every respect, and it pains me to hear you refer to him in such disgraceful terms. I beg you would not.”
Her friend only scoffed.
“Mr Ellis,” she said, “I do not wish him any ill will and certainly no harm. No one else knows or even suspects such an attachment exists on my part other than you. Even the gentleman himself is likely ignorant of my affection for him. No damage has been done beyond my disappointment, which is no one’s fault but my own for failing to better guard my heart. ”
Mr Ellis shook his head at her, looking as though he had tasted something sour.
A heavy, charged silence settled upon them and Elizabeth soon felt herself bowing under the weight of it. In desperate need of a distraction, she looked upon Netherfield—the house, the fields, the countryside, anywhere but at her disapproving friend.
At last, she could bear no more. “Enough! This disappointment has dampened my spirits long enough and it distresses me to no end to imagine you and I are now at odds with one another because of it. To further dwell upon my predicament will do neither of us any good. I insist you cease your resentfulness. Now that I have spoken of it—now that I have confided in you—I am more determined than ever to put the entire business behind me. All will soon be well. Indeed, it must.”
“By all means,” Mr Ellis decried, “let us pretend the entire business never happened. Let us pretend that your heart remains whole and that you and this scoundrel parted as the best of friends. Yes, all is extremely well!”
Elizabeth’s temper flared. She had been foolish to think that baring her soul would bring her any measure of solace.
She should have told him nothing of her disappointment, nothing of her regret, nothing of her broken heart.
“Enough has now been said on the subject, sir. We ought to speak of something else.”
“Enough has not been said, in my opinion, but if you wish to simply sweep your heartache under the drawing room carpet as though it is of no consequence then by all means, madam, go right ahead.” He made a broad sweeping motion with his arm and pretended to dust off his hands.
“There,” he said sardonically. “Now everything is simply magnificent!”
“That is not what I meant at all,” Elizabeth said heatedly. “Stop being obtuse!”
“I am being obtuse? That is rich indeed!” Yanking his hat from his head, he raked his gloved fingers through his hair in frustration. The abruptness of his movements startled his horse and Mr Ellis took several moments to soothe him with gentle strokes and quiet murmurs.
Elizabeth observed him as she stroked her own horse, drawing what comfort she could from the warm steadiness of the animal, and wondered whether she and her friend would part amicably or whether their argument would leave a lasting tear in the tapestry of what had always been a strong, easy friendship. She sincerely hoped for the former.
It soon became apparent her friend felt the same. “Damnation,” he muttered as his horse had begun to graze. “It gives me no pleasure to argue with you, nor to occasion you pain…unlike another gentleman so wholly unworthy of your time, affection, and clemency—”
“Mr Ellis,” Elizabeth warned. “I beg of you—stop. Do not make me regret confiding in you. Do not make my heartache worse.”
He looked at her then, and in his eyes, Elizabeth saw more than righteous anger for what she had suffered in his absence.
She saw pain and regret. He passed his hand over his eyes and donned his hat.
“In such cases as these, I suppose it is wise for a man to concede defeat while he still has his head attached to his neck.”
“Your sensibility regarding such matters is indeed commendable.”
Mr Ellis exhaled heavily. “Forgive me. It was not my intent to upset you or to add to your distress. As for my concern for your well-being, I am afraid that is a topic upon which I can never capitulate. I will, however, endeavour to refrain from raising the subject of your heartache between us in the future. If you are amenable, I shall agree to disagree, but only on the condition that you do me the honour of dancing the first set with me this evening. It is not every day I have an opportunity to open an assembly with one of Hertfordshire’s brightest jewels. ”
After their argument, his teasing was most welcome. “Your apology is accepted, as are your terms. The first two dances are yours, even though you do sound alarmingly like your well-meaning uncle when you say such ridiculous things.”
He tipped his hat to her, and Elizabeth was relieved to see him smile.
The occasion called for some levity. “I have no doubt you will keep me well entertained this evening, Mr Ellis, but do take care to remember my new slippers. They are much lovelier than the pair Mr Collins ruined at Mr Bingley’s ball last autumn.
But on that subject, I shall not importune you.
We have had enough disquiet for one morning, I fear. ”
“Your dear father would likely be of a different mind, at least regarding Mr Collins. What is it he says? ‘For what do we live for, but to provide sport for our neighbours and laugh at them in our turn’?”
Elizabeth found she could not laugh, not at present. “Believe me when I say such advice is not nearly so amusing when it is your turn to be laughed at, sir.”
“No, I would imagine it is not.” His countenance grew serious once more.
“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry, that we have quarrelled. Knowing I was absent when you and your sisters needed a brother to protect you pains me beyond words. All of you are dear to me, but you must know it is your friendship that has been one of the most important of my life.”
She could not help being touched by his words, and the genuine sincerity and sentiment behind them.
“There is nothing to be done now except to move forward. In Jane’s case, hers is the happiest of endings, so there is no cause to repine in that quarter.
Even Lydia appears satisfied with her situation.
I know you wish to erase the ache in my heart and restore my spirit to its former happy state, but I am afraid that is not within your power.
I am yet uncertain whether it is even within mine.
We shall see what the future holds. Perhaps, if I am very lucky, in time I may meet with another Mr Collins. ”
Mr Ellis eyed her sceptically, likely knowing Elizabeth could never accept any man so obsequious and void of good sense as their cousin’s husband.
“What say you to a gallop across your father’s fields?
We could both do with some good-natured exercise after such a serious discussion. Such gravity hardly becomes us.”
“No,” Elizabeth agreed, “it does not.” Eager to put their disagreement behind them, she spurred Abacus to a gallop.
With an exclamation, Mr Ellis roused his own mount into action, and soon both friends were racing across the fields bordering Netherfield as they urged their horses back towards Longbourn.
Elizabeth was in the lead, her dark hair streaming behind her in the wind, while Mr Ellis followed closely in pursuit.
The sound of his encouraging cries and the relentless pounding of his horse’s hooves served as a constant reminder that her lead was not likely to last long.
A quarter hour later, Elizabeth tumbled through the front door of Longbourn House with a smile on her lips.
Her hair was unbound and wild, the hem of her skirts and even her petticoat was damp and caked with dirt, and her boots were a muddy mess.
As she ascended the stairs and made her way down the hall to the bedchamber she shared with Jane, Elizabeth could hear her mother shrieking about the state of the bonnet she had discarded on the table.
A warm fire crackled within, and Elizabeth shut the door behind her with a contented sigh.
Across the room, Jane stood before a large looking glass in nothing but her stockings, stays, and chemise as she held a white gown accented with pale blue embroidery and a matching sash against her figure.
She turned when Elizabeth entered and laughed as she took in her sister’s dishevelled appearance. “Goodness, Lizzy! You look as though you took a tumble through the fields. I hope for your sake Mamma has not seen you.”
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose as she attempted to tame her tangled curls with her fingers. Abandoning her hair, she busied herself with her half-boots instead. The ties were thoroughly caked with mud.
With care, Jane laid her gown upon the bed. “Here, allow me to help you.”
“Absolutely not,” Elizabeth cried, twisting away from her pristine sister as she tugged the remaining boot from her foot and flung it onto the floor.
“I will not have Mamma blaming me for any flaws in your appearance. You shall remain as you are—a vision of angelic perfection.” She crossed the room and stood before the looking glass, where she scrutinised her appearance with a critical eye.
Her hair looked as though birds had nested in it.
Her gown had fared little better. Elizabeth bit her bottom lip and sighed once more, this time resignedly.
“On second thought, I would appreciate your assistance with the buttons on my gown. I can never seem to unfasten them myself.” She swept her mass of unruly hair over her shoulder and presented her back to her sister.
Jane kissed Elizabeth’s cheek as she began to work the covered buttons free. “Nor can you fasten them properly on your own. How I love you and your impulsive nature, Lizzy! You make me forget myself and any vexation I may harbour towards the rest of the world.”