Chapter 11 #3
She would only have to wait a little while. Her reason told her such a scenario was impossible, but then, all sorts of thoughts broke her confidence. Perhaps this is what Darcy wished to tell her, and she had misjudged him and his intentions completely.
Eventually, Jane’s crying ceased but Elizabeth’s torment increased. And so it happened that, while one of the sisters fell asleep in exhaustion and despair, the other one remained alert and distressed, staring out of the window waiting for a glimpse of light.
As the darkness was still deep and heavy, tiredness eventually defeated Elizabeth too. The dawn came and went, and, unlike other mornings, she did not wake up from her deep rest until a rumble of thunder and a gust of wind rattled the window.
Startled, Elizabeth jumped from the bed, meeting Jane’s astonished gaze. “Lizzy, what happened?”
“Nothing…It is just…” She looked around–it must already be breakfast time.
Panicked, she hesitated a moment, looking outside. It was cloudy and the weather had seemed to worsen. Had she missed the chance to meet Darcy?
She started to dress, while Jane still looked at her with puzzlement.
“It has been raining all morning, this is such unpleasant weather! Breakfast is not ready yet. Everybody in the house is still in their chambers,” Jane explained.
“I see,” Elizabeth answered absently, putting on her gown.
Had he left already, or was he still waiting for her?
After all, it was his desire to speak to her.
He could not expect her to walk before dawn!
And why did he not call at Longbourn? Surely her father would not have opposed him talking to her, even privately.
What was his strange decision, she wondered, as she tied her bonnet and put on her gloves.
“The party at Netherfield has left,” Jane continued. “Very early this morning; Hill told me that. They seemed eager to arrive in town as soon as possible.”
“It is a long drive to London, so it is wise that they left early,” Elizabeth agreed.
“Yes, you are right. But Lizzy, where are you going?” Jane asked, suddenly realising her sister’s intentions.
“I need to walk, Jane. I have a headache and some fresh air will help me. If I am late, please do not wait for me with breakfast. I am not hungry at all.”
“What do you mean, not wait for you? Mama will not accept it.”
“Then I shall try to return before breakfast.”
“But Lizzy, it has rained all morning and it looks like it is raining again. And it is very cold. You cannot walk by yourself. May I join you?”
“Dearest, please stay at home. It is cold, and you do not even like to walk. I would much rather go by myself. I will not be out long,” Elizabeth said, embracing Jane and then leaving the room in haste.
She left the house, and the cold air blew in her face. It smelled like winter and it felt the same.
Elizabeth stepped carefully, her shoes unsteady on the slippery ground.
Leaving the garden, she took the main path.
It was cloudy, and the sky darkened again.
She briefly wondered how Darcy could ride to London, once the rain started.
He surely could not feel much better than the previous night, and his apparent state would not allow him to ride such a long distance in such weather.
She walked on decidedly, determined to convince him to see reason. Perhaps he could stay one more day. After all, Netherfield was empty but not deserted. One day would make no difference to anyone, except him, his health, and his safety.
Elizabeth started to climb the path to Oakham Mount. Longbourn was behind her; in front, only trees, sad and desolate, leaning in the wind, and above, an ominous, dark sky.
She tried to scrutinise the road, but there was not much to see. Everything was grey and foggy and windy and a few drops of rain fell.
She heard a horse whinnying from between the trees, but, as there was no rider visible and no carriage in sight, she hastened her steps. She wished to avoid any meeting that would delay her even more and, whoever it was, she had no time and no patience for a polite encounter.
Curiosity was the main reason for her eagerness, but, although reluctant to admit it, there were other feelings, stronger and more distressing, that pushed her to meet Darcy, despite the cold and threatening clouds.
She knew the rain could start even before she reached Oakham Mount, but, once she was with him, they could return to Longbourn together.
So she continued to walk, shivering inside and out with chills, until she reached the spot where they had met some weeks ago. Once there, she breathed deeply, looking around and down into the valley, her heart racing from the effort and from anticipation.
But there was nothing and nobody waiting for her. She was alone, in the middle of the unfriendly weather, surrounded by bare trees, her own tormenting thoughts and disappointment.
The party had already left Netherfield hours ago. So he either was there and did not wait, or did not even bother to come.
If he wished to talk to her and could not wait he surely would have sent a note to Longbourn. He would have found a way to reach her, instead of letting her walk like a simpleton, in freezing weather, putting her health in danger. She worried so much about his health and he cared nothing for hers.
Clearly the suggested meeting was only a whim, perhaps induced by having one too many drinks. Why was she such a fool to accept it? She should have told him to come to Longbourn, as any honourable man would do.
Or perhaps he wished to confess about Bingley’s engagement to his sister?
Could Caroline have been right and Darcy such a deceiving scoundrel?
After minutes of turmoil, pacing around furiously, Elizabeth’s agitation took a turn for the worse, just like the weather. The wind blew stronger, the cold was now sharp, and drops of rain fell relentlessly.
Growing angrier, amid the sound of thunder echoing around her, Elizabeth turned her back on the place where her hopes had been so utterly ruined and almost ran back home.
Step by step, moment by moment, the meeting she so eagerly awaited remained behind her, while Longbourn appeared in her sight. Tears of anger rolled down her face, combined with the drops of rain.
What a ridiculous, gullible fool she was! What did she expect Darcy had to tell her? What extraordinary secret had she expected? What other reasonable woman would have walked impetuously to meet a man in the middle of nowhere, with the threat of a storm looming?
How stupid, ridiculous and thoughtless she had been!
When she descended the slope towards Longbourn, the rain intensified as much as her rage–against Darcy and against herself. She startled only when, even through the sound of rain and wind, she heard the same horse whinnying again.
She stopped and listened carefully, looking around. What horse would stay in the same place for such a long while? Was it caught on something? What could the poor animal do? She briefly recollected Darcy’s care for the horses when they had been caught in the storm, but quickly dismissed the memory.
Stepping carefully off the main path, she glanced around, calling. “Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?”
She shouted a few more times, entering further into the grove of trees. The whinnying sounded closer, and she finally spotted the horse, with the reins hanging loosely from its neck.
She moved closer, her eyes narrowing to better see what was happening.
The horse shuffled its feet a little but did not move.
Fighting her fear of horses, Elizabeth approached carefully, talking to the animal. With horror, she noticed a man lying on the ground, with the loose end of the reins tightly knotted around his leg. The rain continued to fall, and her heart beat wildly.
“Sir? Are you hurt?” she asked in a low voice, and the horse neighed again. She stepped closer, still talking to the animal, then fear froze her still, as she stared at the stallion. She did not recognise it, but she needed only an instant to distinguish Darcy’s motionless body lying in the mud.
“Oh dear Lord,” she cried, then covered her mouth, to avoid scaring the horse.
“Come, my dear, let me help you,” she coaxed the horse.
“Only a moment, my sweet beauty, only a moment,” she said, kneeling and approaching carefully.
She finally reached the body and with trembling hands and frightening thoughts spinning in her mind, untied the reins.
“There, you are free now,” she said. The stallion whickered and took a few steps but still did not move from his master.
Panicked, frightened, quivering, praying and calling his name, she gently turned Darcy.
There was no answer, no movement, only weak breathing warmed her face when she leaned towards him.
She could not see what was wrong with him and did not dare move him too much, only wiped the dirt from his cheeks.
Desperate, she looked around. Longbourn was close enough, but she could not move him. Helpless she sobbed, powerless, lost as to what she should do.
What was he doing there, so close to Longbourn?
For how long he had been on the ground? Did she hear his horse when she began the stroll toward Oakham Mount?
Was he already hurt then? Had he lain on the ground all that time?
How badly was he harmed? Could she have found him there earlier if she had paid more attention to her surroundings?
Such useless questions made her dizzy and increased her tormenting panic.
Moments passed until she made a desperate decision. She took off her coat–still wet and dirty–and put it under his head, then with a last glance she started to run towards the house, faster than her thoughts, than her fears, than her sorrow, than her despair. She ran for his life.