Chapter 7 #3
“I am happy to be of service,” Elizabeth replied dryly as Jane released the last button and eased the garment from her sister’s shoulders.
“Since when, though, has it ever been in your nature to be as judgmental as that statement implies? Tell me, when have you ever looked unfavourably upon any person, or thought even one ill thought regarding any of our acquaintance?”
“It is true. I cannot help but feel everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt. For the moment, however, I am disappointed with Mr Darcy.”
“Mr Darcy?” she enquired anxiously. “Whatever for?”
“For a great many things. Not only has he brought much melancholy to you by writing that letter of his, but I have lately realised how much pain he occasions Charles as well by refusing to return to Netherfield these past months. Charles asked him to stand up with him, you know, yet to my knowledge Mr Darcy has not even bothered to send him a reply. I begin to suspect he does not intend to continue their acquaintance. It is shameful! He is Charles’s oldest friend! It angers me, Lizzy. I cannot help it.”
Elizabeth was surprised. Jane had always staunchly defended Darcy and his actions to her in the past; she could not help feeling disconcerted by this sudden shift in their balance. She clasped her sister’s hands as they sat upon the bed, taking care to avoid Jane’s discarded ball gown.
“You must not blame Mr Darcy for failing to return to Hertfordshire. We know nothing of his business. We are hardly qualified to determine whether he is presently free to leave London or not. As far as severing his ties with Mr Bingley, I do not believe he would ever abandon his friend. I know Mr Darcy values their relationship very much. Our own family, though, you must own, is another matter entirely.”
Jane looked at her askance.
“You cannot honestly blame Mr Darcy for wishing to distance himself as much as possible from us now that Mr Wickham is our brother. Though he may not be often in company with us in the future, Mr Darcy has no way of knowing that for certain. He is only aware that we are joined forever to an unscrupulous man who has wronged him repeatedly, as well as his beloved sister. The idea of meeting with him, even in passing, must be intolerable.”
“Lizzy, if Mr Darcy had only divulged some of the truth of his dealings with Mr Wickham in the beginning, when we first formed the acquaintance, perhaps Lydia might have been spared such a fate as she must now endure. He kept all knowledge of Mr Wickham’s behaviour and dissolute tendencies to himself.
Mr Darcy need not have disclosed his private affairs, only a few details of Mr Wickham’s character and general habits.
His refusal to act has led to our family’s suffering, and now Mr Darcy chooses to shun us!
Please do not ask me to acquit him of his accountability for that, for I simply cannot do it, at least not at present.
Not when he persists in treating my Charles so shabbily. ”
“Jane—” Elizabeth began, but Jane had not done.
“No Lizzy,” she said firmly. “Perhaps if Mr Darcy were to oblige Charles and come to Netherfield, I could find it within my heart to forgive his failings as I have in the past, but I cannot do so now. I do not like to see my future husband slighted, especially by one of his dearest friends. His pain is my own and I feel it acutely! Forgive me for speaking so plainly. I do not wish to upset you as well.”
Elizabeth turned her head aside as she squeezed her sister’s hand.
It pained her to have Jane think so ill of Darcy, but there was nothing Elizabeth could do about it.
It was unlikely he would be returning to Hertfordshire, at least not until the wedding if at all.
She certainly could not imagine him staying for any length of time if he did come.
Of course, there was always a chance they could be thrown into company together if his connexion with Bingley remained intact, as Elizabeth was sure it would, but she felt that Darcy would probably take every opportunity to distance himself from Mr Wickham and, therefore, from her.
She suspected his sense of pride and familial duty was perhaps still too great to allow Miss Darcy to be in company with a woman who could claim the title of sister to George Wickham.
It was cruel, it was unfair, but it was the way of the world, and Elizabeth found that while she was gravely disappointed herself with Darcy for failing to fulfil all her hopes, she could by no means hold him accountable for Lydia’s foolishness, nor for his fervent desire to protect his own sister from exposure and censure.
As for the news of his purported marriage to his cousin, that was a subject upon which Elizabeth chose not to dwell, else she become submersed in a perpetual state of disconsolation.
For the loss of Darcy’s affections, she had mourned long enough.
The clock in the drawing room at Netherfield Park struck nine times. Darcy exhaled in frustration as he paced the length of the room. Across from him Bingley sat slumped in an armchair by the fire, his fingers drumming an impatient staccato on the upholstered arms as he glared at the floor.
Darcy’s own impatience swelled. “Good Lord, Bingley, we have missed the first set! By the time we arrive, the assembly will be over!”
Bingley shot him a look of equal exasperation. “What would you have me do? It is not as though we can leave without Caroline.”
“It is not as though your sister wants to attend the assembly in the first place. She made that much clear this afternoon. We would be paying her a kindness by leaving her at home.”
Bingley’s expression grew thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose there is some merit to that plan,” he conceded, “but you know we cannot possibly act upon it. She would be furious.”
“Who would be furious, Charles?” Miss Bingley enquired as she entered the room. She came to stand before Darcy, a self-satisfied smile upon her face as she extended her hand to him.
Darcy accepted it, executed a quick, perfunctory bow, then released her.
He felt his temper flaring and, to put some distance between himself and the source of his agitation, he crossed the room to retrieve his hat and gloves from the writing desk.
“Why, Miss Jane Bennet, of course,” he responded coolly.
“I understand your brother engaged her for the first two dances, which we have long since missed. She is no doubt wondering what has become of him.”
Miss Bingley waved her hand dismissively as she examined her reflection in a gilded looking glass upon the wall.
She adjusted an ostrich feather on her turban.
“Oh, that is nothing. She has likely found some other partner to amuse her by now. I daresay she has hardly even noticed your absence, Charles.”
“Shall we go?” Bingley asked in a tight voice. His patience with his sister had apparently reached its end.