Chapter 4
At breakfast, Bingley spoke about his enjoyable time at Lucas Lodge.
“It was unexpectedly delightful, truly. Around thirty people — not too crowded. There was good food, a little bit of music so we could dance, pleasant company.”
“The entire Bennet family, I assume.” Miss Bingley rolled her eyes.
“Yes. Even Mr Bennet was there. He enquired about you, Darcy.”
“How kind of him. Was Mr Collins there too?”
“Yes…sadly. He is truly annoying. And, upon my word, I think he is trying to court Miss Elizabeth. I hope I am wrong — for her sake.”
Darcy felt a cold shiver run down his spine.
“Is he?” Mrs Hurst interjected. “Well, a clergyman who will inherit Longbourn sounds like a perfect match for Eliza Bennet. Better than she could have hoped for.”
“I could not agree more,” Miss Bingley added.
“Surely you are joking!” Bingley cried. “I find it absurd. I am sure Miss Elizabeth would not agree to marry such an annoying man.”
“And why not?” Miss Bingley continued. “With no dowry, their estate entailed, and relatives who live near Cheapside, what better can she hope for? Would you not agree, Mr Darcy?”
“I do not know Miss Elizabeth well enough to anticipate her thoughts and actions. I know there are women who would do anything and accept any sort of man for a comfortable marriage. Others would place their self-worth above their comfort.”
His answer was evidently not what the ladies expected, and it silenced them for a while.
“Darcy, what are your plans today?” Bingley enquired later on, when the party was gathered in the drawing room. “I am going to Meryton and then perhaps will call at Longbourn.”
“Call at Longbourn again?” Miss Bingley asked, her expression filled with disapproval.
“Caroline, I am of an age where I can lease an estate. I would surely hope I am allowed to decide who I wish to visit and when.”
“Caroline has a good point, Charles,” Mrs Hurst interjected. “Your actions will certainly arouse some unreasonable expectations.”
“I should feel offended by your assumption that I am unaware of my actions. Regardless, my plans are decided. Whoever wishes to join me is most welcome,” Bingley answered with calm determination.
“I shall go for a ride,” Darcy said. “I have a slight headache, and I believe some exercise would be helpful.”
“I am sorry you feel unwell, Darcy. May I help in any way?”
“No, thank you. Please do not alter your plans.”
“If you have a headache, perhaps you should stay at home, Mr Darcy,” Miss Bingley offered. “A herbal tea and some rest would surely help you more.”
The notion of Miss Bingley bringing him tea caused Darcy a sudden real headache.
“Some exercise and fresh air always helps,” he insisted.
“I am afraid you have contaminated yourself with Eliza Bennet’s bad habits,” Miss Bingley said bitterly.
Darcy’s irritation increased, but he remained silent.
“I was not aware Miss Elizabeth was fond of riding too,” Bingley replied.
“She is not. Quite the opposite,” Darcy said. “Miss Bingley seems to see similarities where they do not exist. Forgive me, I must go and prepare myself,” he concluded.
Half an hour later, Darcy was at the stables, ready for a ride, when a servant boy ran in, breathless.
“Mr Darcy, it’s good I caught you before you left. There’s a note for you, sir. It just arrived. The master said it might be urgent.”
“A note? Do you know who brought it?”
“Tom Green. He works at the inn. He’s waiting for your reply, sir.”
Intrigued, Darcy took the letter. From the opening word he recognised the handwriting, and his first instinct was to throw it away.
We should talk. There are issues of mutual interest we must clarify in order to avoid further unfortunate occurrences.
You were the last man I expected to encounter in Meryton when I joined the regiment. Still, I trust there is enough space here for both of us to mind our own business without bothering each other.
A brief conversation is needed, so I shall wait for you today and tomorrow at three o’clock in the place we saw each other four days ago. That is unless you write back and suggest another location and time to meet.
That was all — no name, no signature. Not that one was needed.
The boy was still waiting, watching him.
“Please pass on the following message. ‘Absolutely not, for as long as I can avoid it.’”
The boy looked stunned and confused.
“That’s all, Mr Darcy?”
“Yes.” The boy hurried away, and Darcy mounted and began his ride at a gentle pace, which increased to a gallop, the cold wind blowing in his face.
The audacity of the scoundrel! He had requested a meeting, but he had also introduced a subtle threat between the lines.
He was probably hoping to convince Darcy not to reveal the truth.
He must be desperate to keep his character hidden and present an appearance of decency.
Wickham might have found out about Darcy’s attempts to warn people about him and was now trying to retaliate.
Such actions revealed that the reprobate’s character had not improved in the slightest; nor did he appear to have any remorse.
The horse continued steadily, with Darcy too distracted by his own thoughts to notice where he was.
Eventually, he realised he had taken the path towards Meryton and Longbourn.
He knew he had to distance himself from Elizabeth, and yet, whatever he did, it always brought him closer to her.
Not even the risk of seeing Wickham made him stay away.
He needed to leave Hertfordshire soon — it was surely not good for his sanity.
Time passed, and Darcy lost track of it until he noticed it was getting darker.
His pocket watch showed it was only two o’clock, but heavy clouds were covering the sky, obscuring the daylight.
He made the quick decision to ride to Meryton, hoping he might see Bingley and they could return to Netherfield together.
When he entered the town, he noticed a group of officers, and, without stopping to see who they were, he turned back. He wondered whether Wickham had received his message of rejection or whether he was expecting him. Either way, he had no desire to see the miscreant.
He rode towards Longbourn but did not go so close as to be observed from the house. Could Bingley be there? He pondered that perhaps he should go and enquire, but he quickly dismissed such an idea.
He resumed his ride, increasing the horse’s speed to a gallop, then stopped for a moment believing he had heard another horse’s steps.
The wind prevented him from hearing anything further, so he continued on.
It was cold, and very likely the rain would begin soon, so he hastened towards Netherfield, until his plans were forcibly altered.
Lost in his confusing and distressing thoughts, with the wind blowing in his face, Darcy was unprepared for the horse’s abrupt halt, the loud neigh that followed, and its sudden, frantic rearing onto its hind legs.
He dropped the reins and tried to grab the horse’s mane as the stallion reared again, but a sharp blow struck his head.
The last thing he remembered was falling, then a pain in his foot, cold, then dark and silence, broken by the sound of a voice asking something.
He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were too heavy, and his hand would not move to his face, as if it was imprisoned.
Some time passed, and the voice returned, and this time he thought he recognised it and even heard some words.
Moments later, the voice faded, the silence turned into noise, other voices called to him, and he felt himself lifted up, then falling again, until finally he felt the ground under his body — and he felt very cold.
∞∞∞
“Mama, I am so tired of walking! It is cold and muddy and will rain soon. We are the only ones who do not have a carriage,” Lydia moaned as they walked from Meryton back to Longbourn facing the icy wind.
Elizabeth and Kitty also accompanied their youngest sister and mother.
They were returning home after a short visit to the Phillipses’ and were all tired and cold.
“We do have a carriage, Lydia, but Papa needs it. It is not a toy that you may use whenever you want.”
“That is not fair! We should buy another carriage just for us.”
“Another carriage?” Mrs Bennet rolled her eyes. “We can barely keep two servants to help your father with his duties. How could we afford another vehicle?”
“Mama, this is so upsetting! If only we were not so very poor and could afford another carriage — even a small one!”
“We are not very poor, child, but we are not rich either,” Mrs Bennet replied.
“Your father’s income is small, and we have five daughters and no son.
You must try hard to marry well, or else we might be homeless once your father dies and Mr Collins inherits Longbourn.
You should pray Mr Collins will offer to marry one of you!
” she concluded with a meaningful glare at Elizabeth.
“I hate Mr Collins. He is so irritating that I cannot stand him! I would never marry him,” Lydia continued. “I am so glad he decided to have dinner with Sir William. At least we shall not be forced to listen to him while we eat tonight.”
“Well, he certainly does not want to marry you either, Lydia. You are too young and too silly to understand how hard life is. Hopefully, Lizzy is older and wiser.”
Elizabeth chose not to answer and pretended not to understand her mother’s meaning.
“If only Jane would marry Mr Bingley sooner. I could not wish for anything more! I would not even care about Mr Collins inheriting Longbourn. Jane’s marriage would place you girls in the path of other rich men, and I am sure you would find good husbands in no time.”
“That plan is not sensible, Mama,” Elizabeth said. “I only hope Jane will find happiness in a marriage of affection. If Mr Bingley is the one she finds it with, even better.”
“I am worried that she did not come with us. She said she had a headache. I hope she will not catch a cold before the ball!”