Chapter 6
The room was unchanged, but to Elizabeth it seemed utterly different from three months ago when she had first unpacked her luggage in it. From the doorway, she looked around the chamber that had been her home for the entire summer.
Based on the initial contract, her employment had officially ended two weeks ago.
She had accomplished all her duties, Darcy’s household was now complete and running efficiently, Mrs. Reynolds’ health had improved enough for her to resume her duties fully.
Her presence at Pemberley had gradually become unnecessary.
However, at Miss Darcy’s insistence, with Mr. Darcy’s acceptance and after a letter sent to her uncle and aunt, Elizabeth had agreed to prolong her stay for another two weeks, a time during which she was not an employee but a guest—Miss Darcy’s friend and companion.
They spent most of the time together, playing the pianoforte, reading or simply talking.
They also enjoyed either long walks or drives around Pemberley Park in a phaeton.
Despite her apparent fragility, Miss Darcy excelled at both riding and driving horses and she confessed it was her brother who had taught her.
After her initial reluctance, shyness and restraint, the girl slowly opened up to someone close to her in age, well accustomed to dealing with and understanding young sisters of fifteen years old.
Without any enquiry, with much patience and genuine care, Elizabeth found out that the reason for Miss Darcy and her brother’s great distress was a terrible betrayal by a close family friend.
Miss Darcy had been at school until April, when she was taken out by her brother and an establishment formed for her in London.
Elizabeth was surprised to find that the girl had her own townhouse, in Park Lane, on the same street as her brother’s.
From there, at the beginning of the summer, she had travelled to Ramsgate with her former companion, Mrs. Younge, who appeared to have been part of the betrayal.
Fortunately, her brother had arrived two days earlier than expected and had put an end to the matter before any harm was done.
The story had been told in pieces, but Elizabeth shrewdly put the puzzle together.
The betrayal must have involved a matter of the heart that had affected the young miss’s gentle soul and made her doubt her judgment and feel she had disappointed her brother.
Who was the dishonourable family friend?
Either he was a relative or perhaps an old acquaintance; Elizabeth did not know and did not attempt to discover his identity, since her friend had chosen to keep those details secret.
As often happens with any happy moment, the time to leave Pemberley had arrived and Elizabeth’s sorrow was stronger and deeper than she had previously imagined. The joy and excitement to see her family were heartfelt, but also burdened by sadness.
She had grown attached to the people of the household, to the tenants she had come to know, to the people in Lambton, to Pemberley itself and to the Darcys.
To one of them—Georgiana—with an open heart, with all the feelings of friendship and mutual affection shared without restraint, with regrets for their imminent separation loudly expressed.
To the other one—the Master of Pemberley—with deep feelings, so strong that she did not dare name them even to herself, meant to be forever buried within her heart and never revealed to anyone.
Feelings that had caused her anguish during her stay at Pemberley and would surely turn into a long-lasting torment once she was gone.
She had no expectations, no wishes, and no plans that involved him.
She had too much common sense and too much wit for such silliness.
She was certain that she would not lose the connection with the Darcys, as Georgiana spoke heartily about their upcoming correspondence.
It should have been enough. But somehow, while appreciating everything she had gained in the last three months, she deeply regretted what she did not dare imagine she could have.
“Elizabeth?”
She startled, turning to Georgiana, who was waiting in the hall.
“Yes? I am ready,” she said with a forced smile.
“Yes, I know… My brother wishes to speak to you, too. But there is something I want to give you.”
With much emotion, the girl handed her a small red velvet box.
“What is it?”
“Open it, please.”
Elizabeth did so and gasped in surprise and delight. It was a golden locket in the shape of a heart and inside it, a miniature of Elizabeth.
“I drew it; I am afraid it is not as good I would wish it to be…”
“My dear Georgiana, it is wonderful,” Elizabeth said, tearfully. “This is such an exquisite necklace and probably expensive, but the drawing is even more beautiful. I would be perfectly content with it alone.”
“Please keep it as it is,” Georgiana insisted, and Elizabeth found no strength to argue further.
“Then do tell me, how can I thank you?” she asked, embracing Georgiana affectionately.
“I have never had a true friend before you, Elizabeth,” the girl whispered, holding her tightly.
Moments later, Sarah the maid called for Elizabeth and the heartbreaking moment was interrupted.
“Miss Elizabeth, we are ready. We are only waiting for you. We are all outside.”
“Thank you, Sarah, I shall come directly. I will only speak to Mr. Darcy briefly.”
She had already said her goodbyes to the entire staff early that morning and to Mrs. Reynolds several times.
Only he was left. She knew he had made all the arrangements for her safe journey back to London, with the same coachmen and Sarah as her companion, and she wished to take one last opportunity to thank him.
Georgiana left her alone at the library door and Elizabeth stood still for a moment, recollecting the last time they had all been there two days prior.
***
It was late in the afternoon, after their pianoforte practice, when she and Georgiana entered the library, knowing that Darcy was visiting his tenants.
The girl has chosen the small sofa in her favourite corner, bought particularly for her by her brother five years ago.
She was enjoying the gentle touch of the sunshine just before sunset, reading a book of poetry, while Elizabeth was simply looking at each bookcase, as though saying her goodbyes to that treasure she had benefited from the entire summer.
She heard Georgiana whispering and glanced at her, smiling as she noticed that her friend, with her head slightly tilted to the right and with her lips moving gently, was actually reading, captured by the beauty of the poem.
Careful not to disturb her, Elizabeth moved towards her and stopped a short distance away, listening to Georgiana’s whispers.
‘There’s indifference, alike when he fails and succeeds,
And attention full ten times as much as there needs,
Pride where there’s no envy, there’s so much of joy;
And mildness, and spirit both forward and coy…’
Elizabeth’s smile broadened as she recognised William Wordsworth’s ballad and she continued it,
‘There’s freedom, and sometimes a diffident stare
Of shame scarcely seeming to know that she’s there.
There’s virtue, the title it surely may claim,
Yet wants heaven knows what to be worthy the name.
What a picture! ‘tis drawn without nature or art,’
“Wordsworth is one of my favourite poets,” Elizabeth said.
“Mine too,” Georgiana admitted.
They looked at each other, sharing a smile and their delight in the beauty of the poem, when their attention was drawn to the door, which had opened without them even noticing.
There was Mr. Darcy, watching them intently and, before either of them had time to speak, he continued, stepping towards them with a warm expression rarely seen on his countenance, and saying in a low and deep voice, “Wordsworth is one of my favourites too and I really enjoy this poem.”
Under the ladies’ enchanted glances, he recited,
‘Yet the Man would at once run away with your heart,
And I for five centuries right gladly would be
Such an odd, such a kind happy creature as he...’
Then he stopped abruptly while his sister begged him to continue and Elizabeth gazed at him in silent enjoyment.
“I am very pleased to see you ladies finding pleasure in poetry. Forgive me, I did not wish to interrupt you; I only came to find some papers and then I will leave again.”
Despite Georgiana’s assurance that they would love his company, he apologised and exited in apparent haste. Puzzled and troubled, Elizabeth had wondered if he had chosen to leave his own library because of her.
***
“Miss Bennet?” Elizabeth was startled as she saw the object of her reverie in the open doorway.
“Please come in for a moment,” Darcy invited her. “I shall not delay you longer than needed. You must keep good time on your journey so you arrive safely to spend the night at the next inn.”
He seemed preoccupied and distressed, inviting her to sit while he remained standing.
“Miss Elizabeth, I wish to thank you again. Your stay at Pemberley has been of great help to us in many ways.”
“You have no reason to thank me, as it has been my pleasure, sir.”
“Georgiana told me she will keep up a correspondence with you; I hope this is agreeable to you?”
“Of course. Very much, sir. And with you, I hope?”
“With me? Yes, yes, very much so,” he mumbled, less articulately than ever before. His distress was apparent, matching Elizabeth’s.
“Is there anything else you need, before your departure?” he enquired.
“No, sir. Due to your care, everything is settled,” she replied.
“Very well, then…” he paced a little bit, seemingly hesitating on his next move, then he suddenly moved to his desk and picked up a small package.
“Would you do me the honour of accepting this small gift?”
She paled, and then blushed.
“Oh, that will not be necessary, sir. Georgiana has already offered me a stunning necklace which I could barely accept.”
“Yes, I know. Please take it, she gave it to you from the heart. But this is nothing of the kind. As I said, it is really nothing… I mean, just two books.”
“Oh! This I cannot refuse, thank you,” she said, taking the small package. In doing so, their fingers touched briefly and each of them withdrew suddenly, as though the touch burned them.
“Well, then… I believe it is time for you to leave. Let me escort you to the carriage,” he offered politely and she nodded. They walked together, at a certain distance and in complete silence, until they reached the drive where the carriage was standing.
There, the entire household was gathered, including the two young children, Tommy and Amy.
While Elizabeth took another affectionate farewell, Darcy waited separately, with his sister next to him.
When she was ready, the siblings approached her again and Georgiana gave her another embrace while Darcy offered his hand to help her climb into the carriage.
This time, his fingers lingered over hers only a moment longer than they should have—or at least Elizabeth thought so.
His countenance expressed nothing, as usual.
“Have a safe journey back home, Miss Bennet,” he wished her, then closed the door and asked the coachmen to drive on.
As the carriage began to move, Elizabeth looked out of the window, watching Pemberley and its people, until it disappeared from her sight. She was grateful that the soft breeze was wiping away the tears on her face and Sarah could not see how great her distress was.
She held her reticule and the small package Darcy had given her, without opening it.
She was curious but also needed complete privacy to look at it.
So only later in the evening, in the solitude of her room at the first inn, many miles away from Pemberley, did she open it to find both volumes of ‘Lyrical Ballads, with a Few Other Poems’ by William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, the very books that she and both Darcy siblings seemed to know by heart.
***
As the carriage slowly departed, Darcy was the first to return to his library, with little consideration even for his sister, who remained with Mrs. Reynolds.
The sharp insidious claw that had sneaked into his chest was so painful that it became unbearable as Elizabeth disappeared from his sight.
Never could he have imagined that he might feel so deeply for a woman, or that her absence would cause more anguish than her tormenting nearness.
And never had he imagined that longing might be as heavy and persistent as grief.