Chapter 12
The moment she saw Darcy, Elizabeth comprehended that deep inside her, there was a timid wish and hope that she might meet him. When it happened, when he nodded and smiled tentatively to her across Bingley’s shoulders, her sense of loss was stronger than anything else.
She greeted them politely, trying to keep her composure.
“Miss Bennet, what are you doing here? Are you alone? What a pleasant surprise? Or should I call you Elizabeth, now that we will soon be family?” Bingley mumbled joyfully.
Elizabeth laughed. “You may call me whatever you prefer, my dear sir! And yes, I am alone. You already know by now that I enjoy walking.”
“So, are you returning home? May we keep you company? I will only greet your family briefly–I know they must be already tired of my presence at Longbourn all the time. I only left a few hours ago and here I am again. I know it is not proper–Darcy already told me so.”
“I truly believe you must not worry about being at Longbourn too often. You were a dear friend long before we knew we were to become family. And your presence has always been welcome,” Elizabeth said.
“Thank you–that is very reassuring,” Bingley responded with relief. “So–shall we go?”
They walked together and Bingley offered Elizabeth his arm for support.
Darcy remained silent, but his stare was burning into the nape of Elizabeth’s neck.
She was eager, and yet dreaded having the chance to speak to him in equal measure, but Mr. Bingley’s continuous chatter made the moment most improper.
“Look–there is Longbourn!” Bingley said enthusiastically, much to her amusement.
“Miss Bennet–Elizabeth–I apologise for talking so much. I confess I have drunk several glasses more than I should have. But it is only because I am very happy. Very happy indeed.”
“There is no need to apologise,” Elizabeth laughed. “I believe you have an excellent reason to drink, Mr. Bingley. I mean–Charles.”
They walked forward, the horses following the gentlemen.
“Darcy, what do you think, should we enter for a moment? Only to greet the family?” Bingley asked hopefully.
“Bingley, you have already obtained Miss Bennet’s approval for that. I will do as you wish,” Darcy responded lightly.
“Yes, yes–we should,” Bingley said, his impatience growing with each moment. “What if I go on ahead and take the horses to the stables? So we do not waste more time?” he suggested, and Elizabeth laughed loudly.
“Please do so. We are already in the back garden, so there is no danger of me or Mr. Darcy losing the path back home.”
“I believe that would be a good idea. Darcy, let me take your horse too. We will only stay for a little while,” he repeated, while hastening his steps.
As he departed, Darcy moved forward to Elizabeth’s side and finally they glanced at each other. Her composure vanished and she was grateful for the late afternoon darkness so he could not see that her cheeks were burning.
“I imagine your sister is as happy as Bingley,” he said gently.
“She is…they are very much alike even in their feelings. Although Jane is more restrained in showing hers.”
It was silent again, as the moon rose from behind the hills, and Longbourn’s windows were lit up nearby.
“Miss Bennet, are you upset with me? Have I done something to displease you?” Darcy eventually asked, reluctantly.
Elizabeth’s heart ached. “No, sir. Why would I be upset? I thought you were upset with me, since you left so unexpectedly yesterday, when we met.”
He stared at her, incredulous.
“Surely you cannot imagine I left because of you…”
“I confess I assumed so…”
“Quite the opposite, I assure you. I intended to return, because of you. But Bingley arrived home and it was too late.”
It was her turn to stare at him. He stopped and their eyes met and locked.
“Miss Bennet, there is something of great importance that I wish to speak to you about. And I planned to approach Mr. Bennet in this regard too. There is something that I have been reluctant to confess so far, as it is a delicate and intimate matter which involves my family.”
Her knees weakened and chills ran down her spine. Her heart beat wildly and she struggled to breathe.
“If it is about your engagement to Miss de Bourgh, I will save you the trouble, sir. We are already aware of it.”
Darcy stared at her with the deepest astonishment, expecting to see her teasing expression. Instead, even in the darkness, he observed her troubled expression.
“My engagement? Miss Bennet, what on earth are you talking about?”
He unconsciously grabbed her arm, forgetting that they were in full sight of the house. She was equally stunned, unable to break his gaze or to withdraw her arm.
“Miss Bennet! What engagement?”
“Mr. Collins told us you are engaged to be married soon…to Miss de Bourgh…” she murmured.
He frowned in disbelief. “You believed me to be engaged and that I concealed such an important matter from you and your father? What kind of man would do so?”
His voice sounded dumbfounded, offended, even hurt.
“So this is your opinion of me? I thank you for letting me know,” he whispered, stepping away.
Disconcerted, confused, her knees still weak, she hurried after him. He stopped again.
“Does Mr. Bennet share your belief? Does he also consider me a cheater with no honour?” His pain hurt her too and quite enveloped her, while her heart screamed with joy for being utterly wrong and a complete fool.
“No…Precisely because of your previous conversation, he was the one who doubted the report immediately and readily dismissed it.”
His eyes stared into hers again, as dark as the winter evening itself. Grief marred his face and his tone became more sharp and severe.
“I am glad to hear that. At least someone gives me the benefit of the doubt. How could you even consider I was engaged, since I mentioned to you the possibility of marriage? Even if it was unlikely and you loathed the idea so much, I did mention it and I could not have done so if I were bound either by honour or by affection to someone else.”
His reproach was as hurtful as it was genuine and it made her consider how thoughtlessly she had judged him once more. And still it was he who apologised.
“Miss Bennet, I beg you to forgive me. I have no right to speak to you in such a manner.”
“No, no…surely there is no need for you to apologise, sir!”
“Yes, there is. I know by now that your opinion of me is rather low and most likely it is my fault that I made such a poor first impression.”
“That is not the reason why…It is not my poor impression…I admit I also felt hurt and deceived…”
Her words sounded barely coherent even to herself, and her own thoughts were no clearer.
“Miss Bennet, I can give you my word that this is a complete falsehood. It is true that my aunt wishes me to marry Anne, just as it is true that I am very fond of my cousin. I will always take care of her, but I will never bond myself to her in any other way than by our blood ties. Anne knows that very well–and so does my aunt. Unfortunately, one of them has accepted my decision, the other one has not.”
“I see…Thank you for explaining it to me…I must apologise for even bringing up this subject. As you said earlier, I have no right to discuss such a delicate and personal matter …”
Darcy saw the mirth and relief brightening her face and hope and joy filled him too. Had she truly suffered because of his supposed engagement? Or was he misjudging her feelings once again?
“It is much better that you brought up the reason for your concern. I would have never suspected it…I am afraid there is still a significant misunderstanding between us…”
“I am the only one to blame. I admit I have a tendency to assume and presume too much at times and…I am truly very sorry, Mr. Darcy…But I am glad I was wrong… I mean, I am glad everything is clear now,” she said, embarrassed by her own admission. Did he understand her meaning?
Her soul was lighter and her apologies heartfelt. The cold dread that had trapped her body and mind since she had heard the rumour was now gone. He was there, still holding her arm, washing away her worries; it was no wonder that she could hardly find the proper words.
“We should enter now,” she said, as they approached the main gate.
“Yes,” he agreed, offering her his arm.
When the door opened, she turned to him and asked, “Mr. Darcy, but if it was not your engagement, what did you wish to discuss with me?”
“Wickham,” he said briefly, just before the din of voices startled them.
They joined the others in the drawing room and, after the silence and the cold darkness outside, the light, the heat and the noise invigorated them.
Bingley was sitting on a settee, next to Jane; Mrs. Bennet and Mary sat on the opposite couch and Mr. Bennet on an armchair. Lydia and Kitty were missing, probably preparing for the night. And luckily, there was no sign of Mr. Collins.
“Lizzy, where have you been?” Mrs. Bennet called out. “Come and sit, child, you look very flustered! You must be frozen. And Mr. Darcy–do come in, sir!”
Bingley was holding another glassful of wine, his face reddened both by emotion and the drink, laughing with all his might.
“Darcy, we were just talking about you. Do you know that people think you are engaged to Miss de Bourgh? How silly is that?”
“It is silly, indeed. I just clarified the matter with Miss Bennet. But Bingley, we should return to Netherfield,” Darcy said. The discussion made him uncomfortable and Bingley’s state was not proper for serious conversation.
Bingley was too attached to his present position next to his betrothed to even consider the advice. His smile widened and he sipped more wine.
“I am glad you discussed this with my future sister, Elizabeth. You know, Mrs. Bennet was worried that you had stayed outside so long. Everybody fears you two will argue or even fight, but I know there is no reason for concern. I know you two have been friendly enough since that night when you were locked in the library.”