Chapter 7
Being alone in the library at such an early hour was at the edge of propriety, but it was delightful enough to make them disregard the strict rules of decorum with little thought.
A servant entered soon with some coffee for the master, and he was asked to bring tea for Elizabeth too.
“This library is stunning. Exceptional,” Elizabeth said. “Now I understand why you said you were proud of it. You certainly have every reason to be.”
He smiled as she quoted his words from one evening at Netherfield. She seemed to remember their past encounters as well as he did.
“I am glad you approve of it, Miss Bennet.”
“How could I not? Everything I have seen so far has been exceptional at Pemberley. I am grateful for the privilege of being here, Mr Darcy,” she said genuinely, though slightly embarrassed at how her praises could be interpreted.
“And I am grateful for the joy of having you here, Miss Bennet,” he replied with the same honesty, and her embarrassment increased, but her pleasure was doubled.
Fortunately, a maid entered with a tray of tea and biscuits, helping them to regain some composure.
The cups were filled, and then the servant left.
They enjoyed the drinks in silence, only glancing at each other.
The peaceful moment spent alone, in Pemberley’s library, early in the morning when the sun was just starting to kiss the high windows, was something that neither of them would have believed possible a short while ago, but both could easily imagine as a scene repeated in the future.
“I believe this is one of the most beautiful mornings I remember in a long while,” he said, sipping from his coffee.
“I have no doubt it is,” she answered, holding her teacup. “The view from the library is as lovely as the one from my room. Stunning,” she repeated. “Thank you so much for providing us with those specific rooms. I could have stayed out on the balcony for days!”
“I am glad you enjoyed yourself. I hoped you would… You slept well, I hope?”
“I could not say,” she admitted with a shy smile. “I was so restless all night that I cannot remember any sleep. But it was a good restlessness. The best I can ever remember.”
“I did not sleep much either,” he admitted.
“I was thinking…Miss Bennet, I do not want to intrude or invade your privacy but…if you feel comfortable, I would be delighted if you stayed at Pemberley for the remainder of your visit to Derbyshire. You and your uncle and aunt,” he said with a mixture of hope and restraint but also fear of asking too much.
Elizabeth blushed, blinking repeatedly and frowning slightly, flattered by another extraordinary gesture and fearful to read too much into it. Why was she so fearful?
“Please do not hesitate to refuse if I am being too intrusive! I asked because this is what I wish for, but you should only do as you please and feel comfortable with. I assure you I shall not mind either way.”
“You are not being too intrusive, Mr Darcy. You know enough of my frankness to be certain I would speak if I found you so! I am just stunned and speechless. I know my uncle and aunt would be thrilled. But are you sure we are not the ones intruding, sir? Would the situation be agreeable for Miss Darcy? I know some of your other guests loathe our presence here.”
“Miss Bennet, please never believe your presence is anything other than a pleasure to me. I have told you before and you know me well enough to believe I would not have said it, were it not true. My sister is already enjoying your company exceedingly. As for my other guests, I am trying to be a good host to everyone. That is why I suggested and allowed them the liberty to do anything that makes them happy. But I am the master of the house, and I will not ask permission for what makes me happy.”
She smiled at him while sipping daintily from her cup. “Then, if my uncle and aunt agree, I shall accept your invitation with pleasure,” she responded, her cheeks flushed with delight and her heart racing with high emotions.
The sound of the door being opened again broke the silence, and Mrs Annesley entered, stepping into the room without knocking or even asking permission.
“Mr Darcy, I beg your pardon for bursting in and disturbing you, but…I went to Miss Darcy to help her prepare for the day, and she is not in her room.” The lady looked flustered and highly alarmed, and Darcy frowned.
“Not in her room? She must have gone for a ride before breakfast. She has done so on occasion in the past. I shall send a servant to ask at the stables right away.”
“No, I…I do not think she took a ride, sir…” the woman continued, glancing at Elizabeth as though she feared to speak freely.
“What do you mean, Mrs Annesley? Tell me at once what has happened!” Darcy demanded.
“I found this note on her pillow…In it, Miss Darcy says I should not worry about her and that she has left you a letter on your desk in the library…”
With a sudden change of countenance, Darcy almost jumped to his desk and rummaged around the spread papers with desperate haste until he found the one he was looking for. He opened it in a hurry and started to read, shaking his head and clenching his fists.
“This cannot be…” he whispered. “It cannot be,” he repeated, putting the letter down, then grabbing it again.
Elizabeth watched mesmerised as his face displayed an array of feelings she had only seen once before, that day at the parsonage.
She stood, a lump in her throat and her heart a shard of ice in her breast from anguish.
Mrs Annesley was now extremely pale, and her voice trembled with tears as she dared ask, “Sir…is Miss Darcy harmed in any way?”
The question seemed to shake Darcy from his stupor, and he looked at the two women with evident confusion.
“No…no…she is not harmed…Mrs Annesley, I would ask of you to return to your chamber for the moment. I shall speak to you later. Please do not mention anything to others about my sister’s absence.
If someone inquires, I shall tell them she is still in her room, indisposed, with a cold or fever or…
I shall think of something. Please keep it private for now.
” He spoke quickly, with an obviously perturbed mind, one fist over his mouth while holding the letter tight in the other.
“Of course, Mr Darcy. As you say…please let me know how I may help.”
“Only by doing as I asked, Mrs Annesley. Thank you, please leave me now…”
The woman exited, stepping hesitantly as though her knees were too weak. When the door closed, Darcy looked at Elizabeth for a long, intense moment, then sat in his armchair and clenched both his fists, the paper forgotten in one of them.
Without much consideration, Elizabeth pulled up a chair and sat right in front of him, gently touching his arm.
“Sir, what has happened? Something must be very wrong, I can see that. You look very ill. May I fetch you something? A glass of wine, perhaps? Something stronger? Or perhaps tea?”
“No, no…I could probably drink something, but it would not help…” He caught her worried stare and replied while trying to swallow the lump in his throat.
“My sister has left me…all of us…and thrown herself into the arms of Wickham.”
Elizabeth was so shocked that her eyes and mouth widened, and she started to mumble.
“Wickham? But when? How? Where is she? I am sure he took her by force! What can be done? Let us go after her immediately! I shall fetch my uncle! And Mr Bingley!”
Elizabeth was so astonished, so agitated that she lost control of herself. She rose to her feet immediately and started for the door, but Darcy stood and grabbed her hand, keeping her still a moment longer while replying in a low voice.
“I do not know what can be done. She left with him willingly, undoubtedly by design. Her letter is very clear. She has been communicating with him for months now…she claims he has shown her proofs of his love and loyalty and care, and that he is the only man she could be happy with…”
“But…no! This cannot be! She could never be happy with such a man!” Elizabeth cried, wondering why Darcy looked calm and still as though he was incapable of moving.
“She specifically asked me to not follow her,” he continued.
“You may read for yourself,” he said, handing her the crumpled piece of paper.
“She asked me to show her my affection by respecting her choice and her chance at happiness. She said they would go to Gretna Green to marry immediately. She claims my father would have approved of this marriage and even mentioned to her years ago that he hoped she would find a husband like George. And she says I cannot understand her because I do not know the meaning of love…” he concluded, his last words barely audible.
Devastation washed over him and made him stagger like an intoxicated man.
The same last words fell like blades, taking Elizabeth’s breath away.
She cast a glance at him, but he was already moving towards the window, leaving her to read the letter.
“This cannot be,” she muttered to herself and almost threw the offending piece of paper away only to start it again from the beginning.
As she read the letter, Elizabeth understood that Georgiana had written it some time ago but only placed it on her brother’s desk when the elopement occurred.
The plan, of which the letter was only a part, had been laid long before.
But some of the words written did not sound right to Elizabeth.
As little as she knew Miss Darcy, she doubted the girl, at the age of sixteen, would dare tell her older brother, twelve years her senior, that he did not know the meaning of love.
Or mention their father several times in reference with such a subject.
Elizabeth could simply not imagine that it was something a girl of her age and with her disposition would do.