Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Elizabeth’s mouth hinged open, and she could not seem to muster the wherewithal to close it. Indeed, her entire body felt immobile. Numb.
“Oh, what a terrible flirt the man is,” Kitty said, joining them at the table.
“I truly thought, that last time he called, when you were not there to ruin things, Elizabeth, that he showed real interest.” She waved a hand in the general direction of one of the waiting footmen. “Tea, please. I require fortitude.”
“He spoke to me too.” Lydia went to the sideboard. “He was interested in me too.”
“No, he was interested in me,” Kitty countered. “Oh, Mama, why are men so cruel?”
Their words flowed over Elizabeth, hardly comprehensible. She managed to close her mouth, then swallowed against the pain in her throat.
“If Colonel Fitzwilliam is engaged to Miss Bingley, that means she will no longer occupy Mr. Darcy’s attention,” Kitty said suddenly. “He is not the son of an earl, but he is the more wealthy of the two.”
“Oh, clever girl,” Mrs. Bennet said happily. “Yes, you must win Mr. Darcy.”
“We do not even know if either gentleman will return,” Jane said softly.
Elizabeth looked away from her sister’s compassion-laden gaze, swallowing again.
“I do not see why you would want Mr. Darcy,” Lydia said as she returned to the table. “He is so pompous. He’s nearly as bad as Mr. Collins.”
Mention of their cousin earned a scowl from Mrs. Bennet.
Appearing not to notice, Lydia continued, “I want a redcoat. It is a shame so many of them went to London, but they must be returning soon. Half of the troop is still here.”
Lydia, Kitty, and Mrs. Bennet devolved into a discussion of who was more handsome, ranking men Elizabeth hadn’t yet met, called Chamberlayne, Denny, Carter, and Pratt, and disagreeing on the order.
Elizabeth stared down at her plate, her half-eaten breakfast suddenly nauseating. She focused on slow, even breaths. When she finally felt she could speak without casting up what she’d already eaten, she said, “I must fetch something from my room,” and left the table.
She kept her tattered calm pulled tight around her until she reached that sanctuary, then collapsed on her bed. Her shoulders heaved, sobs shaking her. The door opened and closed. Quiet footsteps crossed the room. A hand settled on her shoulder.
“I am so sorry,” Jane murmured.
Elizabeth’s heart sheared in two.
“Did you have an understanding with him?” Jane asked.
Shaking her head, Elizabeth sat up. She dashed at her eyes, but fresh tears replaced any she removed. “I should have believed her. Miss Bingley told me I had no hope of a future with him.”
“She did?” Jane asked, startled.
“They must have been colluding the entire time. P-playing some sort of game.” A cruel, horrible game, with both her and, Elizabeth suspected, Mr. Darcy’s hearts. She could see Miss Bingley delighting in such, but… “How could I have misjudged him so greatly?”
“I do not know.”
Elizabeth flopped back onto the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“What can I do?” Jane asked.
Elizabeth shook her head.
“Maybe it is not true,” Jane said suddenly, her expression eager. “I will ask Charles.”
Elizabeth couldn’t muster a reply to that. She had nothing to say. No words for the pain that filled her. Even if she did, she doubted she could squeeze them through a throat full of tears.
Jane wrung her hands. “Should I bring you tea?”
“Please, go,” Elizabeth managed to whisper, aware that Jane would not leave unless asked.
Indecision pinched Jane’s features. “I will make an excuse if Mama looks for you.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth mumbled.
“And I will ask Charles.”
Elizabeth turned her face away. She doubted Mr. Bingley had anything to say that she would care to hear.
Elizabeth remained in her room all morning, and did not go down for luncheon. Her mind ranged frantically over every moment with Fitzwilliam. Every interaction.
She could find no hint that she had been played for a fool. No clue that he cared for Miss Bingley. Only visions of those dark, tormented eyes. Of his hesitant sincerity.
His regard for her seemed so real.
Could his defection simply be about money? Had he learned of Miss Bingley’s twenty thousand pounds? Elizabeth imagined many a gentleman had been swayed by less.
But not Fitzwilliam. He did not seem like the sort of man to give up their growing regard for Miss Bingley’s dowry.
Yet…all evidence suggested he had.
Was this why he hadn’t found a way to say goodbye?
Why he’d so readily raced north with no word of explanation except ‘business?’ Had he even gone north?
Had he, he would have needed to arrange for the wedding announcement before departing.
That meant he had already decided to marry Miss Bingley, and asked for her hand, before the arrival of the earl and Lady Catherine.
Miss Bingley had seemed oddly sad that morning. Did she, then, love Mr. Darcy, as Elizabeth believed, and regret agreeing to marry simply for rank and connections?
Everything was so confused. So convoluted. Nothing would settle in Elizabeth’s mind, and her heart knew only pain.
She must have dozed, for the click of the bedroom door opening woke her to salt-crusted eyes and wan afternoon light. Jane slipped in and came to stand beside the bed. She cleared her throat.
Hope a painful stab, Elizabeth sat up.
“I spoke with Charles.”
The disappointment in Jane’s voice told Elizabeth all she needed to know, but she couldn’t help asking, “What did he tell you?” The words came out cracked and raw.
“That it is true that Miss Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam are to be married.” Jane’s eyes were dark with pity. “I am sorry.”
“I see,” Elizabeth murmured, for what else could she say? No words could express the pain her sister’s confirmation evoked.
Jane dropped to sit on the side of the bed.
“I asked him how Colonel Fitzwilliam could treat you so infamously, but he only shook his head. He said he did not want to get involved in the mess that Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had made, and that he hoped all would be clear when he returned from Scotland. I truly am sorry.”
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed. How would his return help? She cleared her throat and managed to croak, “Thank you for asking.”
“I wish I had better news.”
Elizabeth nodded, not opening her eyes. It was very kind of her sister to attempt to help, but there was nothing Jane could do. All Elizabeth wanted was to be alone.