Chapter 8 #3
“As you wish, ma’am,” Darcy accepted, looking at Elizabeth one more time.
“Then let us go, there is no time to waste,” he concluded, opening the door and showing the ladies out.
Lydia took Wickham’s arm, while Denny helped Kitty.
Bingley immediately offered to support Jane.
Darcy remained behind with Mrs Bennet and Elizabeth and, after a brief hesitation, he offered one arm to each.
“May I help you, Mrs Bennet?” Stevens also offered and Mrs Bennet took his arm too, stepping carefully across the muddy ground.
Wet and cold, their faces stinging from the freezing wind, Elizabeth and Darcy walked side by side, without looking at each other but strongly aware of their nearness.
They reached Darcy’s large carriage and quickly entered, happy at the thought of being safe soon.
Even with six people, it was not as crowded as they expected.
“Dear Lord, thank you! Mr Darcy, we are very grateful for your help!” Mrs Bennet said, and Darcy only bowed. It was so dark that they could barely see each other.
“Please ask Mr Bennet to send a note to Sir William. He must be worried if his horses arrived home alone,” Darcy addressed Elizabeth. She nodded, impressed by his ability to think of everything.
“I might go to Longbourn to be sure everyone is safe… And I will speak to Mr Bennet… There is still some room in the carriage,” Bingley unexpectedly offered as if asking Darcy’s permission. His concern and willingness to assist the ladies was obvious.
“I believe that is a good idea,” Darcy approved.
“Then I will go,” Bingley responded joyfully, quickly entering the carriage. “I will return in no time. You go back to the cottage and keep the fire burning, you are very wet,” Bingley told his friend.
“Just leave. I will be fine. Take the ladies safely home, Bingley,” Darcy uttered and the carriage moved forward slowly, while he walked back to the cottage, followed by Stevens and the two other servants.
Inside, it was silent and warm enough. The light from the fire and the candles made the old little cabin rather friendly. He sat on a chair, close to the fire, lost in his thoughts.
That afternoon’s events had been so utterly unexpected that he still needed time to muse over them.
As dangerous as it had been for the ladies, in those strange circumstances a strong connection was born between him and Elizabeth.
Although they barely spoke to each other, their bond had grown in an alarming way.
Alarming and delightful. Heart-warming. He felt she trusted him with her well-being and her family’s.
And she worried for him; Bingley told him she had repeatedly enquired after him while he was out in the rain.
In fact, they trusted each other to keep their sense and their strength when both were needed.
Earlier that afternoon, he and Bingley had gone for a short ride and–as usual–Bingley insisted on stopping at Longbourn briefly.
Even if he had not admitted it, Darcy accepted gladly.
They were welcomed by Mr Bennet, who informed them the ladies were in Meryton and invited them for a drink.
They spent an hour together, hoping for the ladies to appear.
When the weather worsened and the clouds darkened the sky, they decided to leave.
It was assumed the ladies would remain in Meryton until the rain stopped and return home in a carriage.
On the way back to Netherfield, they were trapped in the unforeseen storm and caught in the rain in between Longbourn and Netherfield.
And they were stunned to hear the sound of frightened horses and a runaway carriage, as well as screams of fear.
He hurried to stop the horses, with no indication who the people were who were trapped in the barouche.
When he finally saw the Bennets–with Elizabeth lying on the floor, holding her sisters’ hands–his heart raced with worry, considering the danger they had been in.
Then he saw Wickham and his concern was overtaken by anger.
He constantly sensed that Wickham was purposely trying to annoy him.
He was proven wrong shortly after; in the end, Wickham showed to everyone that he was only an idiot unable to drive a carriage with two horses.
Regardless of the fabrication he might have related to the Bennets, Mrs Bennet and her eldest daughters did not seem very partial to Wickham.
On the contrary, Mrs Bennet’s repeated rebuking of Wickham for not handling the horses and not starting the fire was probably the most amusing thing Darcy had heard in a long time.
With a smile, he recollected how Mrs Bennet was ready to kiss him for lighting the fire and laughed at the thought.
The woman was completely lacking in decorum and was annoying most of the time, but her poor manners seemed rather diverting.
So long as he did not have to bear them too often, of course.
And, in the end, she had raised two remarkable daughters in Miss Bennet and Elizabeth. She must have done something right, after all.
No. Jane Bennet was handsome and lovely in manners and appearance.
Elizabeth was remarkable. Stunning in her powerful, self-confident beauty, even when she was wet, dirty, and cold.
Her appearance even in that dirty cottage was more alluring than the most fashionable women he had seen in a ballroom.
He shivered at the memory of Elizabeth’s fingers touching his and her worried gaze seeking his own.
She was frightened and looked to him for help and support.
And she was ready to forget her own comfort and safety to help others, willing to walk through the storm with him and with Bingley.
In the end, her sacrifice was not needed, but that did not diminish her worthiness and her praiseworthy character.
She was brave, outspoken, decided, lively, strong, and honest. She was everything he had hoped for in a woman but had never found before.
She was his perfect match in everything except a few insignificant aspects. Of that, he had no doubts.
But was he worthy of her? Was he brave enough to admit his desires and fight for them, despite everything and everyone? Was he her perfect match or only a pompous fool, blessed with fortune and connections he had done nothing to deserve?
Leaning back in the chair by the fire, Darcy was slowly warming, forgetting the wet and cold clothes that he still wore.
He had spent many times by the fire, warming himself after being caught in storms, mostly at Pemberley.
And he could spend so many more–perhaps with Elizabeth.
Alone, embracing, on a couch placed before the hearth.
She would love Pemberley, he knew that. And Pemberley would love her too.
And Georgiana, Mrs Reynolds…His relatives would not accept her, he was certain of that.
Most likely London society would not either.
At least not in the beginning. But should he be preoccupied by the opinions of others?
And yet, could he afford to disregard them?
He remained the only male descendant of the Darcys. He knew his family’s expectations, his late parents’ wishes and hopes for his future and his own duty toward his name and his legacy.
Just as he knew Elizabeth could fulfil the role of Mrs Darcy perfectly.
But her family’s situation and poor connections, her mother and sisters’ ill manners, her uncles and aunts, and so many other obstacles were impossible to dismiss.
But not impossible to overcome. He needed to think thoroughly about everything.
Some other time–when he was less tired and less dizzy.
For the moment, he closed his eyes and brought to mind Elizabeth’s image, to comfort him.
“Darcy, are you well?” a voice startled him.
Darcy staggered to his feet, staring at Bingley.
“I am fine; I believe I fell asleep for a moment. Should we go now?”
“Yes. You look very flustered,” Bingley said.
“I was warming, but now I am truly very cold. I do not remember being so cold in a long while, if ever. Let us go. Stevens, please douse the fire and the candles carefully, this cottage could burn down in no time. We will wait for you in the carriage. Do hurry,” Darcy ordered.
Bingley and Darcy left the cottage, walking through the rain that had almost stopped.
Occasional drops fell but they did not even sense them; more bothering was the freezing wind that blew in their faces.
They finally entered the coach. On the bench was a blanket and, shivering, Darcy put it around himself.
“Are the Bennet ladies well?” Darcy asked. Stevens arrived and took the front seat with the two coachmen and they finally began moving slowly.
“Yes. I hope so. Mrs Bennet gave me these blankets. One for you, she said. I did not enter, but I was delayed by Wickham and Denny. They asked me to take them to Meryton by carriage and I could not refuse them. I am telling you, if all the officers are like those two, God protects us from enemies!"
Darcy laughed, tightening the blanket around himself closely, then responded earnestly.
“Do not let yourself be deceived by Wickham. He is a dangerous scoundrel, who would do anything to gain an easy advantage. He cannot be trusted for a single moment. And he seems to have already charmed the youngest Misses Bennet. He would lie, cheat and betray you in the blink of an eye, if that serves his purposes.”
“I am sure he would, but he looked rather pathetic to me. He did try to criticise you several times when you were away, but he was readily rebuked by Miss Elizabeth and by Mrs Bennet. In the carriage back to Longbourn, he tried to be charming and protective, repeating how happy he was that the ladies were safely home. Like he had done something to accomplish that happy outcome. If not for you… dear Lord, they all could have been harmed.”
“Do not mention it, Bingley. Everything turned out very well.”
“But Darcy, I must ask…how did you jump from your horse onto theirs? That was astonishing!” Bingley asked in amazement.
Darcy dismissed the praise with a wave of his hand.
“It is not as spectacular as it appears. It was a trick I learned from our stable man when I was very young. I never thought it would serve me, except when I competed with my cousins. To be honest, I did not even think of what I was doing. I heard screams and I could not see clearly, but I knew I had to stop the carriage.”
Bingley shook his head in disapproval at his friend’s perfect calmness.
“It was spectacular. And you did put yourself in great danger. But do you know what astounded me the most?”
“What?” Darcy smiled at his friend’s embarrassing awe.
“The fact that when you stopped the carriage you did not know who was in it. It could have been complete strangers, peasants, anyone…”
“Yes. But the people were still in danger, and the carriage still needed to be stopped,” Darcy replied simply. Bingley only stared at him, but said nothing, as their carriage finally reached Netherfield’s front door.
“Bingley, I hope you do not mind, but I will have dinner in my room tonight. I want only warm food please. And a very hot bath.”
“Of course!” Bingley whispered while Darcy ran upstairs, trying to escape Bingley’s sisters’ curious and intrigued exclamations.