Chapter 18 #2
Despite his exhaustion, Darcy paced over the carpet.
Not only had the rain failed to resolve his present situation, but it had also separated him from Elizabeth.
He had become accustomed to seeing her every day, but two days had passed since his call at Longbourn, and he felt her absence most acutely.
Never would he have suspected that he could feel quite so empty without her.
How singular that of all the women he had met, and there had been scores of them, his mind was constantly filled with images and memories of her.
She had a deplorable family, relations in trade, imperfect pianoforte skills, no connections, and no fortune.
Yet, his mind was singularly focused on her.
He sat at Charles’s writing table and withdrew a sheaf of paper. Despite the conflicting emotions whirling through his mind, he attempted to put his thoughts into some semblance of order.
Dear Miss Elizabeth,
Please forgive the impropriety of this missive, but I find
Dear Miss Elizabeth,
You may perhaps wonder why I would risk writing
Dear Miss Elizabeth,
Please excuse this subterfuge, but my feelings must not be repressed
Dear Miss Elizabeth,
You must allow me to tell you how much I love and admire
Each unsuccessful attempt made its way into the fire. As he watched the last one burn, he despaired that she would never know the full depth of his feelings. He might be forever trapped in this alternate reality, forbidden from pursuing the only woman he had ever loved.
But how could he find his way back to his true self by sitting here day after day, and night after night?
Lamenting his sad fate wouldn’t bring him any closer to finding a solution.
He had to persevere, not just for his own sake and Georgiana’s, but also for Elizabeth.
However, as long as he inhabited another man’s body, his fondest desires could never be realised.
No, unless he took decisive action, tested every possible solution and pursued every avenue, he would remain forever adrift in this sea of uncertainty.
***
Sunday 24 November
When Charles entered the breakfast parlour with Darcy, Caroline wasted no time in voicing her complaints.
“My goodness, Charles. I understand that you’ve gone out in the rain again. When did you become so nonsensical? You might have caught a chill.”
Although Charles was mortified by his sister’s audacity, Darcy paid her little heed. “I’m fine, Caroline, and have no need of a nursemaid.”
“But to bring in so much mud for the servants to clean up. You have no more sense than a scrubby schoolboy,” Caroline said with a haughty air.
“You are free to make a fool of yourself whenever you choose, Charles, but must you drag Henry with you?” Louisa inquired.
“I am well able to speak for myself, thank you, and I enjoyed myself immensely,” Henry said, smiling broadly.
“If you must know, it was Henry’s idea,” Charles said, rising to his own defence.
Gasping, Louisa glared at her husband. “Henry, how could you?”
Henry blandly waved her off. “Don’t make a fuss, Louisa. We were only having a lark.”
Caroline sniffed in disdain. “Indeed, and while you are enjoying yourselves in the mud, poor Mr Winters, Mr Henderson, and Mr Hobbs are left to deal with the mess.”
“My valet is well paid for his services, I assure you,” Darcy said with an air of finality.
Despite his guilt for causing extra work for the servants, Charles echoed this sentiment. Caroline pressed her lips together and said no more on the subject.
Although Charles welcomed the rain, he wondered if the turbulent storm would prevent him from dancing with Jane on Tuesday. “Do you suppose the assembly will go on as scheduled?”
Caroline stared at him in wonderment. “You can’t be thinking of attending, Mr Darcy.”
“Of course, I will,” he said, glancing at Darcy who owed him this penance.
“Weather permitting, we will all attend and we shall all dance,” Darcy said in a decisive tone, quite unlike Charles’s usual manner.
However, since this concession was exactly what Charles had demanded, he nodded to acknowledge Darcy’s deference to him.
This left him to wonder why he hadn’t taken a similar tactic with his sisters, especially since becoming master of Netherfield.
Shouldn’t he have asserted his authority long before now?
He resolved to do so in the future, when he became Charles again – if he ever became Charles again.
“Bound to work this time. The tempest has returned,” Henry had said earlier that night.
While Charles agreed that the storm had intensified, their fortunes had not changed. After another rain-drenched session in the lane, he stared into the looking glass and found only disappointment.
Despite Henry’s constant encouragement, Charles was dangerously close to losing hope and was uncertain if he could withstand another failed attempt to switch with Darcy.
Mr Hobbs had already been pushed to his limit, and had probably spent the better part of the past two days restoring Darcy’s clothes to order.
But what else could they have done? They had waited all this time for the rain to return and had to explore every possibility.
Reversing the spell was now the highest priority.
He didn’t want to lose hope, but they had repeated the same moves over a wide expanse of the lane to no avail.
He was uncertain of how much longer he could endure this farce.
Caroline and Louisa had become insufferable this past fortnight with their constant sniping and complaints, but with all this rain, it was no wonder they were irritable.
Hobbs entered the chamber through the dressing room door. “Ah, you have been exploring again.”
“Don’t scold, Mr Hobbs,” Charles said. “There’s no telling what my host might require of me, and there’s no sense in telling me to refuse. After all his kindness to me, I can’t bring myself to deny him.”
“No, indeed, you ought not,” Hobbs said in a grave tone.
Charles knew he shouldn’t blame Darcy for the extra workload his activities had forced on Hobbs, but his situation had become desperate. He feared that if he didn’t find a solution soon, he might never do so. The risk to his future happiness increased with each passing day.
***
Monday 25 November
By Monday evening, Darcy suffered from a mixture of impatience, boredom, and anxiety.
The storm raged that night with even more vengeance than the three days prior.
The rain came down in torrents, the wind blustered, the thunder roared, and the lightning split the sky.
There was little to do indoors, Charles’s sisters had become insufferable, and his repeated failure to reverse his misfortune had pushed him to the breaking point.
When the men discussed their plan of action after supper, Hurst insisted that if they were really serious about reversing the spell, they had to recreate the event exactly as it had happened on that terrible night, including the chaise, the coachman, and the horses.