Chapter 24
Elizabeth stood in front of the door, waiting for her husband’s invitation.
He had often told her that she needed no permission to enter any room in the house, but at that particular moment, she did not dare intrude.
They had argued again, and she had hurled at him all sorts of reproaches, criticising his manners until he had stalked off offended.
In truth, it was her manners that had been at fault, not his.
She had jumped to the wrong conclusions — once again; why did she always assume the worst of him?
And why did she keep mentioning her money, goading him about his need to use it, when it was truly the last thing that bothered her?
Her husband had been nothing but understanding about Mr Thomas Crawford.
Certainly, she would have liked to have talked more to him at the theatre, learnt more about him or their shared family connections; but expecting her husband to invite a stranger into their box, along with his titled relations, when they had not been properly introduced, was indeed unreasonable — even she could admit that.
But she had been so happy to see her cousin that her judgment may have been affected.
How could she not be happy, when finally she had found someone related to her through the blood of her beloved mother?
The door opened, and her husband appeared; he was still dressed, his countenance was troubled, and his hair was in some disorder, sticking out in odd patterns as though he had been brushing his fingers through it.
“Yes?”
“May I enter? Or you may come into my chamber if you would be so kind as to listen to me for a moment,” she pleaded.
He hesitated briefly, looking at her as though judging her intent, then opened the door wide for her, gesturing in the general direction of a chair, then returned to his glass of brandy while she sat on the offered seat.
“I am sorry if I offended you. The words that came out sounded different from those I meant,” she said in a subdued manner.
He cast a look at her. “I appreciate that you care enough to take the trouble at least to apologise,” he said, repeating her earlier statement.
“I would have liked for my cousin to stay with me in the box and to have been able to speak to him a little during the interval and even the play,” she admitted. “But I was more upset because I assumed you had asked Mr Bingley and the colonel to chaperon me during his visit tomorrow.”
“Yes, you already mentioned that. I hope you understood I did not, but the more I think of it, the more concerned I am about your enthusiasm and readiness to defend a stranger and to receive him in your life without any proof of his identity.”
“I am certain he is not a liar…I can feel it,” she whispered. “You cannot understand what it is like to know you have no one and then to suddenly discover you are not all alone in the world.”
He gazed at her for a little while, then he pulled up a chair and sat in front of her.
“Why would you feel you are alone? You have your father, your elder sister, the Gardiners — from what I know and have seen, they all love you! And you have me. I hope you know that.” His voice softened a little, and she fought the tears that burned her eyes.
“I grew up feeling alone, knowing there was nobody left in the world on my mother’s side except Mr Gardiner.
My entire life, my late mother has rarely been mentioned, even by my father, and then always in whispers, like an illicit subject.
My stepmother would not allow the memory of her to undermine her authority and her position as the mistress of the house.
I felt an intruder at Longbourn, having nothing in common with my stepmother and my younger sisters.
I was often reminded that I was obstinate, arrogant, unladylike, a bluestocking — all very unpleasant traits inherited from my mother.
My father always loved me in silence, from the distance of his own sanctuary, leaving me to face the abuse alone, even when I was a small child.
I have often wondered what he would have done if my stepmother had made good her oft-repeated threat to send me away.
The only thing that prevented me from such a fate was my fortune, which my stepmother hoped to benefit from one day. ”
Once she had begun to speak, her words were impossible to stop.
Her husband moved a chair close to hers and took her hands in his, in a gesture of comfort, and the warmth spreading from his touch through her entire body disconcerted her even more.
But she did not withdraw her hands. They seemed to be where they belonged, resting in his palms, his thumbs gently brushing over her knuckles.
She could not tear her eyes away from the gentle motion of his fingers as she continued her explanations.
“That is why the news that I have a cousin brightened my life — plain and simple. My uncle Gardiner mentioned I might have another cousin somewhere in the world, and he even searched for him for a long time. I longed for him to be found, and suddenly he was here. How could I not be delighted?”
She raised her eyes and looked at him, willing him to understand. One of his hands moved, and his thumb brushed her tears away, while the other tightened its hold.
“Elizabeth, it breaks my heart to see your pain and not be able to comfort you. I feel deeply for what you have been through, and I understand your desire for this man to be who he says he is, but I have to ask myself what if he is not? What if your present joy from meeting him turned into disappointment and more pain? The only thing I request from you is caution and patience.”
“Why would he try to deceive me? He must know you will search for proof to support his assertion. He might attempt to deceive me, but not you, my uncle, or my father!”
“Why? I cannot answer that,” he said, his voice and countenance changing, acquiring a hard edge.
“Why would a young man, who was raised as a beloved godson and offered everything in life, turn into a deceptive scoundrel? Why would he take advantage of grief and sorrow and push the man who had loved him and supported him like a son into ruin? Why would he throw away any decency, any honour, any loyalty, and force himself on a young girl whom he had known since she was a mere babe and had been like a sister to him?”
Elizabeth listened to her husband’s confession in utter surprise, her heart, already burdened by her own torment, growing heavier with his.
His words revealed a turmoil that seemed to find its way to the surface from the depths where it had been buried.
Despite her own troubled state of mind, she understood he was talking about his sister and the man she had married.
Was that amiable, charming, handsome man whom she had already met the very embodiment of such utter evil?
His grip on her hands tightened almost painfully, and she gently released one of them to touch his face in a gesture of comfort; surprised, he turned his head slowly, until he pressed his lips into her palm for just an instant, before she withdrew.
As if of its own will, her hand returned to be held in his.
“I am sorry for this outburst. You have had enough distress tonight and do not need mine to add to it,” he said.
“It must be the brandy. I drank one too many…or the medicinal draught. I had my man prepare one before we went to the theatre,” he mumbled, glancing at the offending arm as if the fault lay with it.
“Please do not apologise for opening your heart to me. I would rather share your distress than wonder why you are preoccupied or absent all the time. Your sister was forced to marry?”
“She was deceived into marrying, confusing her life-long sisterly affection with love. She was pushed and manoeuvred into a marriage that will ruin her life unless I can put an end to it. And I cannot even blame her. How could I, since my own excellent father, a wise man, educated and honourable, allowed himself to be deceived by the viper he had nurtured since boyhood?”
“I do not know what to say…” she whispered. “How may I help you?”
He gazed at her, his pallor rivalling the white of his cravat, stark against the dark cloth of his elegant coat.
He tightened his hands around hers again.
“Would you mind if I brought my sister back home, against her husband’s will and perhaps even her own?
It might raise a scandal in town that would affect you, too, as my wife.
There might be gossip of the worst sort, and ugly things might be revealed.
Things that would pollute my family name.
Georgiana might not even want to leave her husband, but I know living with him will harm her even more. ”
“A scandal is the last thing I care about. But I am not sure how I feel about you breaking up your sister’s marriage against her will… My mother’s family tried to do the same when she married my father, and—”
“I assure you there is no comparison between the two situations. He married my sister only for the benefit of her fortune! He is beneath her in every possible way, and he is incapable of having respect or affection for anyone other than himself!”
“My mother’s family said the same about my father,” Elizabeth whispered, withdrawing her hands from his. They faced each other in silence for a while. His expression was disheartened and confused, and he stood slowly to fill his glass with more brandy.