Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Elizabeth gasped, her eyes wide. “Acquainted? You met Mr Darcy? How? When?” She did not know what shocked her more: the fact that the two men were acquainted, or that her godfather thought they could make a match of it.
Mr Goulding chuckled weakly. “When he was staying with Mr Bingley last autumn.” He leant back against the chair and grinned ruefully.
“I did a foolish thing, and Mr Darcy rescued me from the consequences of my own actions.
It was in October, and it was one of those brilliant golden mornings.
I had not felt up to riding for quite some time, but the morning was so beautiful, it lifted my heart.
Cotten saddled my horse for me against his own better judgment, but I assured him I was just going to ride to the brook and back.
Which is what I set out to do, but I overestimated my strength.
I got as far as that cluster of chestnut trees by the stile, and my arms and legs were already tired.
I tried to turn back, but I began to slide off the saddle.
Fortunately, my horse came to a halt. I slid to the ground as slowly and carefully as I could, but my legs would not let me stand.
I set myself on the ground, knowing that my horse would find its way back to the stable and Cotten would look for me, though it might take some time.
“Mere moments later, a rider appeared, coming from the opposite direction.
I could tell from his height that it could not be Cotten, and it was too soon in any event.
The gentleman dismounted and knelt beside me, asking what he could do to help.
He did not ask if I needed help, he just asked what he might do for me.
I was impressed by his gentlemanlike behaviour.
I introduced myself, and he said he had heard of me.
He helped me stand, but my legs would not hold me.
I explained about my illness, and he told me he had read some articles about recurrent malaria.
He carried me to his horse, and with some difficulty, we were able to get me mounted.
Then he got up behind me and brought me home.
We arrived before my horse did. The gentleman went far out of his way to help a stranger.
He could have fetched Cotten and been on his way, yet he took care of me personally.
He did not recoil at the sight of my face.
“Of course, Cotten and Reese were both rather upset with me. Mr Darcy helped me down and carried me into the house. He and Reese settled me into a chair. Mrs Neeson came in and fussed a bit, of course.” He smiled fondly.
“I invited Mr Darcy to stay for breakfast, and he accepted.
We enjoyed a short visit, and he took his leave but said he would return the next day to see how I was faring.
“He visited several times. We spent time here in my library or outside in the garden and discovered that we have much in common: shared tastes in literature, opinions on farming and the new agricultural techniques, politics, and a preference for the country over the city. Our conversations rambled over many topics. In fact, he gave me that book from his own collection,” he said, gesturing towards the blue book.
“He is a very intelligent and informed gentleman.” His eyes twinkled.
“Of course, he never said so, but I believe his visits here were something of a respite from the company of his hostess.”
Elizabeth made a face. “Miss Bingley had quite obviously set her cap at him.”
Mr Goulding took another sip of tea and said quietly, “Another thing we have in common is that we are both rather alone in the world.”
“Mr Darcy has a family. Not a large family, but he does. He has friends—”
“Yet he suffered several great losses early in his life. He is also alone in that he bears a heavy burden of responsibility that most others would not understand. He took on these burdens at a very young age, at two-and-twenty I believe. Perhaps because of this he is too serious and takes too much upon himself,” he said, regarding her with kind but solemn eyes.
Elizabeth had not thought of that. She had resented Mr Darcy since that first evening at the assembly after his ill-natured comments but had not considered why he might be in a temper.
She gasped. It must have been because of his sister!
She slumped against the back of her chair, blinking back tears.
“I know he is a good man. Before we even were introduced, I thought him pompous, arrogant, and rude. I know now I have misjudged him.”
“What did he do to earn your enmity, besides the insult at the first assembly?”
She brushed away a tear. “In Kent, he came uninvited to the parsonage. Only hours before, I had accidentally discovered that he had persuaded Mr Bingley away from Jane and was actually proud of having done so. I was already angry at him about that, and then he burst in and made me an offer that was even more insulting than that of Mr Collins!”
Sniffing, she frantically sorted through her reticule for a handkerchief until Mr Goulding handed her his.
“He…he declared that he admired and loved me. That he wished to marry me, but my family’s behaviour was appalling, and that my connexions to trade rendered me unacceptable to polite society, and that he would lose friends over it, his family would not accept me, and we would be universally despised… ”
A sob escaped her. “He did not even ask me how I felt! He went on and on about my unsuitability, assuming that of course I would humbly accept him and be grateful for it!”
Mr Goulding looked at her with concern. “Take a sip of your tea, child, and breathe.”
Elizabeth did so and took a bite of cake, calming herself.
“So you quarrelled?” her godfather asked.
Elizabeth sighed. “We did. I did. I was so angry…I threw his proposal back in his face. I told him that I knew he had destroyed Jane’s hopes and made her subject to derision.
Even worse, I accused him of dishonesty in his dealings with Mr Wickham.
I told him that he was the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry! ”
Mr Goulding visibly winced at that, but Elizabeth continued.
“He was just as angry as I was. He left the parsonage, and I thought I would never see him again—hoped I would never see him again. I have never been so upset in my life.
“I could not sleep that night, so I went out very early for a walk. Mr Darcy was waiting for me on a path that I enjoy. He handed me a letter and then walked away.”
Mr Goulding regarded her with raised brows. “I am much surprised! I did not think Darcy is the sort of man who would flout propriety like that.”
“I am not exactly sure why he did. Perhaps he merely wanted to tell me how wrong I was, how stupid I was for refusing his offer, but why should he care about that? After all, he saw nothing but disadvantages and dismal repercussions in attaching himself to me and my family, and I relieved him of that burden. Why did he just not leave me to discover my mistakes for myself and reap the consequences?”
“Reap the consequences? Good Lord, what was in the letter?”
“He defended himself, one by one, on the charges I had laid at his feet. He said that he saw no signs of particular regard from Jane to Mr Bingley, and that is what he told his friend. I did correct him in this regard, but in his letter, he still claimed to be proud of separating them.”
“Foolish man,” consoled Mr Goulding.
“I quite agree,” said Elizabeth. She sighed. “Most of the remaining letter was an explanation of his enmity towards Mr Wickham. I did tell you about him last autumn, did I not?”
“The handsome lieutenant? Yes, you did. I know you were quite taken with him, but he did not sound…quite…correct to me.”
“How did you know?”
“Would you ever do what he did? Confide intimate, personal details of your life to a stranger? Openly seek pity from people you had just been introduced to?”
“No, I would not. And you were right. Mr Wickham is a villain who leaves a wake of debt and ruined young women behind him everywhere he goes. Everything he does, every word he says is meant to gain something for himself. He lied by omission, telling only his part of what really happened. Oh dear, I am not describing it well.”
She reached for her reticule, pulled out the letter, and held it out to him. “Perhaps you should read it yourself.”
“You carry it around with you?” Mr Goulding stared at her.
“Well…yes, Lydia goes through my belongings…” Elizabeth broke off. “That is only part of the reason. The truth is I cannot stop reading it,” she said in a quiet voice.