Chapter 1.25 #4
“Yes, Elizabeth, that was my reaction as well, and she did not fail to notice it.
To my shock, she suddenly produced a bottle of brandy and began to drink—two, maybe three glasses.
From that moment, I cannot say exactly how things proceeded, but she began to talk.
She angrily asked what gave me the right to judge her—though I had not yet said a single word—and that it was easy for me to play the perfect gentleman as life had given me everything.
I watched her, stunned, as she paced the room, talking and drinking more brandy.
She told me about her family passing away when she was five, about the years she had spent in one orphanage after another, about running away—at the age of twelve—with a group of strolling actors, and about unbelievable cruelties and experiences that easily would destroy a man, not to mention a child.
“Among those actors, she discovered her talent, and they taught her to use it and encouraged her to learn to play and sing. Without apparent remorse, she confessed that the most important lesson she learned was never to let herself be used by men but to use them instead to reach her goal. I shall not tell you all the details, but obviously she succeeded in what she proposed to do. Her remarkable talent could not be denied; at the age of twenty-three, she had already become a well-known actress. Ten years later—at the time I met her—she was so famous that nobody gave any importance to…the way in which she had reached that success.”
Elizabeth’s incredulous face was exactly what he had expected, and he paused before continuing.
“A couple of hours later—it was far past midnight—she lay on the sofa, and she fell asleep in minutes. I fetched a servant to take care of her and left, but I must say I did not find much sleep of my own that night. Such a story was difficult for me to hear.”
“I can easily believe it. I have admired Miss Alton occasionally at the theatre, but it never crossed my mind that she might be anything but a beautiful and talented lady, whose fame was justified by her exquisite performance. I must confess…I never thought her to be anything but honourable and worthy of admiration.”
“Elizabeth, I hope you will understand me when I say that, even now, I consider her to be worth admiration. I came to that conclusion shortly after that night, as the following morning I received a note from her, expressing her gratitude and politely asking whether I could join her for tea in the afternoon. I could not refuse the invitation and returned to her house later that day. A few close friends of hers were already present, and she loudly begged my forgiveness for her behaviour the previous night, again expressing her gratitude for my assistance. She also confessed that she had returned through a messenger all the presents she had received from Lord Felton and intended never to allow him near her again.”
“That was very wise of her.”
“Yes, it was. As I told you, she was prepared to leave the country for a European tour within a month, but during her remaining time in town, I was often invited to her house for the intimate gathering she hosted, as her bruised face did not allow her to be seen by a larger circle of acquaintances. I was most surprised by the opportunity to know a completely different type of woman—not the actress glowing on the stage or the adventurous person I had thought her to be after the first night. She was pleasant and charming company, and a very bright lady, quite educated and capable of handling a conversation on almost any subject. Her private performances while she played and sang for only a few guests were an even greater delight than those displayed at the theatre. This new Miss Alton—whose real name was Mary Ann Smith—was less glamorous, less spectacular in her appearance and gowns, but much more friendly, unpretentious, and worthy of admiration. Her behaviour towards me was attentive. In the beginning, she was embarrassed by the facts she had disclosed to me, and she desperately asked for my secrecy as nobody else was aware of her past. Of course, I assured her that her secret was safe with me, and indeed, until today I have never told this story to any other person.”
“I see… From what you have told me, I can easily understand how you came to admire each other. She seems a wonderful person…and such a beautiful woman. I am certain any man would fall in love with her. You must have deeply regretted the sudden separation.” Her voice was again soft and unsure, and she lowered her eyes.
Darcy’s hand gently tilted her chin up until she met his gaze—unexpectedly serene, even smiling.
“Elizabeth, I was not in love with Miss Alton. Even more, I never suspected or fancied myself in love with Miss Alton or any other woman. When I told you the day after our engagement that my heart never spoke before I met you, I was in complete earnest—you must know that.”
Her eyes were like windows into her soul; he could easily see all her love for him—every feeling, every fear, and every hope.
His heart melted in tenderness, and though her distress saddened him, the happiness he felt at such an honest and strong profession of love from his beloved was more powerful than any other feeling.
“Because I want to be completely honest, I shall confess to you one more thing. A few days before her departure, after one of her parties, she invited me to remain for the night. I was quite young at the time—ten years her junior—and I was flattered at first and tempted to accept. She must have noticed my indecision, because she became quite insistent. In a short time, she turned into a skilful seductress, and I have to confess to you that I was…quite overwhelmed by her notice.”
He felt Elizabeth’s body stiffen, and her expression changed in an instant, but he did not want to keep anything from her. Gently stroking her hands, he continued.
“Only a few moments later, I recovered from the surprise and rejected her, gently but firmly, and declined her invitation. She was incredulous. She even laughed and told me I could not possibly be serious as no man had ever rejected her. When I became insistent, she asked for my reason, and I told her with complete honesty that I had come to admire and respect her too much to use her as a pleasant diversion, and that neither my duties nor my feelings would allow me to offer her more than that.”
“Oh my…”
“She frowned and politely asked me to leave. I did not see or speak to her again until the evening before her departure when I received another invitation from her. There were no other guests, and we talked for less than half an hour. I tried to apologise if my words had offended her, but she interrupted me and expressed her own regret for placing me in an embarrassing situation. She thanked me again for my support and friendship though she said she did not deserve either. We agreed to put aside the incident and parted on friendly terms.”
“And she married Lord Hothfield.”
“Yes, but not immediately. Her European tour was a success, but in London, things were not as good. As soon as she left, rumours about her were spread around town, undoubtedly by Lord Felton and his closest friends, Mr Wickham among them. Rumours of great seriousness arose, implying that she had stolen jewels from Lord Felton and other men and that she had used her charms to ruin still more—rumours that, of course, were as ridiculous as they were untrue. Not many people believed such malice, but a few of them did. I had no restraint in expressing my favourable opinion of her every time I had the chance, but as I said, I was rarely in town. One of her most fervent defenders was Lord Hothfield, and rumour had it that he involved himself in a physical altercation with Lord Felton upon hearing his slander of Miss Alton.”
“They fought? But I understood Lord Hothfield to be an old man.”
“Not old at all, Elizabeth; I mean, he was seven or eight years younger than my father, which would make him around forty-five now. He is a very pleasant sort of man who had the misfortune of losing his first wife and two children a long time ago when my mother was still alive. He had not much family left nor any other close relatives, and I truly believe that his marriage to the former Miss Alton was to the advantage of both.”
“William, do you think he knows about—?”
“About her past? Yes, he certainly does. Apparently, they met later that year in Rome and renewed their acquaintance; they married in France at the end of winter. I confess that my first—and very ungentlemanlike—thought was that she had accepted Lord Hothfield to be assured finally of that respectability she had lacked. You can imagine how many old and new rumours this unexpected marriage gave rise to among the ton. I met them the next spring, however, and after the first moment, I ceased to doubt the affection between them. I had the opportunity to speak to her privately for a few minutes, and she assured me that she had told her husband everything before the wedding, including the circumstances under which we had met, how she had told me everything about her past…and that I had refused her when she offered herself to me.”
“Oh, how astonishing! He must truly love her very much to marry her after such a disclosure.”
“I dare say he does and that her affection for him is equally honest and strong. She retired from the stage that year, and they spend most of the time at his estate. Lady Ellen and Lord Matlock, having been on friendly terms with Lord Hothfield for years, reluctantly accepted an invitation two years ago, as they had many doubts about his marriage. However, they returned a fortnight later truly delighted, declaring Lady Hothfield a charming hostess, a proper mistress of the house, and a devoted and loving wife.”
His tone changed as he continued his story.