Chapter 23 Insights #2
"Do you know the last time she personally saw or spoke to any of the Bennets?" Mr. Damask asked.
"No, sir," Darcy replied, "although I would assume it was fairly recently."
"I asked my great-nieces about that point specifically.
It has been more than 19 years. While she has regularly corresponded with the family in the intervening time, she has not personally seen or spoken with any member of the family since she visited for the church service during which her goddaughter was christened.
She would be entirely unable to identify any of the Bennet girls if they stood before her unannounced. "
Darcy stared at Mr. Damask in disbelief. "Are…are you certain?" he finally stammered out.
"The young ladies were certain, and it tallies with what I have heard from my daughter and from Mr. Bennet. Lady Catherine has no personal knowledge of events or people at Longbourn since her visit nearly two decades past. Anything she may think she knows has come to her secondhand."
"I had no idea," Darcy said, still feeling stunned. "Lady Catherine always seemed so confident of her knowledge. She spoke as if she had witnessed the behavior of which she has warned me multiple times in the past."
"I have firsthand knowledge of the young women in question.
Far from being wild, greedy or grasping, they are sweet, kind and well-mannered ladies who are a pleasure to have in my home.
I do not appreciate hearing that anyone has been speaking ill of them, any more than you would care to hear someone speak ill of your sister.
Without certain personal knowledge that you spoke the truth, your choice to defame the Bennet sisters was in poor form, no matter how honorable you felt your intentions to be. "
It was the mention of his sister that shifted Darcy's mood from discomfort at the situation to discomfort with his own behavior.
Had anyone spoken of Georgiana the way he had spoken of the Bennet sisters, whether the report was true or not, he would hardly have handled the situation as calmly or reasonably as Mr. Damask was now doing.
At the same time, in that perverse mood that sometimes comes upon those who have done an unjust deed, he found that even as he admitted the fault in his own behavior, he disliked the very name of Bennet even more for having been the catalyst to put him in the wrong.
"It seems the situation is not what I had believed," he said stiffly and forced himself to add, "Pray tender my apologies to the ladies.
You may all be certain of my future silence regarding any character descriptions I may hear from my aunt.
If you wish, I will write to Mr. Tavistock and Sir Barnaby to retract my words and inform them my source was not as reliable as I had thought. "
Mr. Damask stood and bowed. "On behalf of my great-nieces, I accept your apology and your offer to correct the record. Thank you for hearing me out and being so reasonable about the solution."
Darcy also stood and returned Mr. Damask's bow. His headache was bothering him more than ever and he wanted to snap at the older man, but he did not. Instead, he wished him a civil good day and saw his unwanted guest out of the study and on his way.
It was only when he returned to his chair and pulled out writing paper to make good on his promise that Darcy's anger flared. He balled up the page on which he had written Tavistock's direction and tossed it at the fire saying, "Blast those Bennets anyway!"
He set his quill aside, dropping his head into his hands. The frustration and pain washed over him. He would write the letters, just not right away.
~o~
By the following morning, Darcy had gotten over both his headache and his fit of pique. He wrote the notes he had promised to send, simply stating he had learned his source was not as reliable as he had thought and asking them to disregard any comments he had made regarding the Bennet family.
He hated having to write those notes, admissions that he had been a fool, and he hated having to send them even more. He sent them anyway, because it was the honorable thing to do.
Darcy wrote a third letter as well, but this one did not go into the post. It was never intended to be sent.
One did not actually say such things to a lady, not even to Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
He went through all the motions - it was signed, sealed and the direction clearly written upon it - before consigning it to the flames of the study fire.
Watching the flames dance while the fire consumed the paper, Darcy irreverently wondered if perhaps she would one day receive it after all.
To be fair, Richard had warned him many times that there was more to the story than Darcy knew.
He had offered to explain before he left to take up his commission, but Darcy refused to hear him.
After that, Richard continued to warn him against believing their aunt, but he no longer offered details.
The pages of the letter hissed and crinkled as they burned.
The sounds set off connections inside his mind.
Richard loved and respected his father. Darcy knew that.
It was clear in their every interaction.
It had made no sense that Richard would accept a commission from their aunt if he knew it would divide him permanently from his father.
Looking away from the fire, Darcy saw the remaining group of miniature chessboards on their shelves, his own father's former partners with whom he continued to play.
Right in the center were the boards for the ongoing games with his uncle and with Richard.
Chess was a game of strategy. To win, you needed to consider not only what your opponent would do, but how you would counter their next moves and how they would respond to your counter play. Some pieces would be deliberately sacrificed to enable others to take position for the final win.
His uncle played chess.
Richard played chess.
Mr. Bennet chess.
Lady Catherine did not, but she played with other people's lives.
Things his father, his uncle and Richard had said over the years started lining up in a different way than he had understood them before.
"There is more to this than you can see," Richard had said when he first accepted the commission and Darcy had asked how he could accept it from their aunt.
It was suddenly clear to him that Richard, Uncle Peter and Mr. Bennet had all been making moves to counter some plan of Aunt Catherine's.
They were letting her think she had driven them apart.
They must have others helping them remain united outside of her view.
And it was his own fault he was not a part of that group.
He had refused to listen to Richard's warnings.
They probably could not trust him to keep their secrets because he had always defended his aunt's motives.
Through his own choice, Darcy had allowed himself to be a pawn to Lady Catherine.
She wanted him to spread her lies about the Bennet family.
She wanted him to have nothing to do with them. Why?
Perhaps his uncle or Richard could be persuaded to tell him what was really going on.
Until then, Darcy would show he could be trusted not to betray their secrets.
Since he did not know what moves were being made or who to trust, he would simply continue to appear as he had been for any outside watcher to see.
That way, Lady Catherine would not suspect she had lost control of him.
It was a good thing he had burned that letter, he thought with a smile, before turning his mind back to the problem of finding Miss Elizabeth Rose.