Chapter 9
Elizabeth was extremely agitated because she needed to take her walk to calm herself, but what if the hateful man who had made the worst proposal she could imagine—even worse than Mr Collins’s, something she had not thought possible—was waiting for her again. She could not bear seeing him.
There was no question that her decision to reject Mr Darcy’s offer of marriage was the correct one, but after very little sleep the previous night, she had become mortified by the manner of her refusal.
No matter what Mr Darcy had done, she should have remained polite. She let her temper get the better of her and for that she felt remorse.
She reminded herself that she did not allow anyone to intimidate her.
With that in mind, Elizabeth resolved to walk out; her bruised spirit required it.
As she had each day since arriving at the parsonage, Elizabeth dressed herself, tied her hair in a simple knot, laced up her half-boots she always walked in, took her bonnet, and lastly slipped her hands into the gloves she used when walking.
She walked softly down the stairs and out of the parsonage.
As soon as she crossed the estate’s drive, Elizabeth headed into the grove.
She walked with no little trepidation as she approached the spot Mr Darcy usually waited for her.
He was not there! Her mood lightened significantly.
Feeling the tension leach out of her body with each step, she felt almost ebullient as she walked.
That all changed when she reached the clearing where she would either walk up the hill to the folly or turn towards the other grove to reach the glade.
There stood the last man she wanted to see.
Luck was with her; his back was to her. Elizabeth turned to go back the way she had come when she trod on a little branch which had fallen from one of the trees.
To her horror, it made a loud cracking noise as it splintered below her half-boot.
Darcy had been waiting since first light and had not been sure Miss Bennet would walk out today.
He had been contemplating his choices, and how rather than keeping to his maxim of hating disguise, he had been employing it too often of late.
While he was lost in thought, he heard the sound from behind him and spun around.
There was Miss Bennet, and it seemed she was about to slink away.
He now understood that the woman he loved held him in no tender regard, in fact, she hated him! As such, Darcy could understand why she did not want to see him; but it was too important that she learn that he was not the villain she thought he was.
“Miss Bennet, good morning,” Darcy said evenly.
As she had been castigating herself for her rudeness in her rejection of Mr Darcy’s proposal, Elizabeth knew she could not ignore him now.
She turned and faced him. He looked as grave as ever.
“And to you, Mr Darcy,” she returned with a curtsy.
She watched as Mr Darcy approached and came to stand about two feet from her.
“Miss Bennet, will you do me the honour of reading this letter,” Darcy requested after he extracted the epistle from his inside coat pocket.
“Mr Darcy if you think you will gain me as a wife via a compromise…” Elizabeth stopped herself, she was about to give into her temper again.
This man had that effect on her. “Pardon my harsh response. What I meant to say is that it is very improper for you to offer me a missive and for me to accept it.”
“I do not dispute your words about propriety. However, all I beg of you is that you read what I have written if, as I believe you do, you have a sense of fairness. You laid many charges at my door, some justified, but many not. You judged me without ever allowing me to defend myself and answer the charges you accused me of.”
“Then, Mr Darcy, you are free to speak; why the need for a letter?”
“Miss Bennet, after my performance yester-evening, I think you may understand that I am not very articulate at the best of times, and especially when I am overset. I cannot force you to accept the epistle, and if you do, I have no way to compel you to read the words within. All I can assure you is unlike the person who you championed; I have proof and witnesses to prove my words are true. Please, Miss Bennet, regardless of how you see me, surely you want to know the truth?”
Elizabeth cogitated for a few moments. Mr Darcy stood there, the missive in his hand waiting patiently.
She had to admit that she was inquisitive about what Mr Darcy had written, and if she were to be honest, she saw no pride in him now; in fact, he was being humble.
A decision made, she extended her hand. “I will read your words, Mr Darcy, but I cannot promise I will believe them.”
Darcy handed her the epistle. “Reading them is the only thing I had hoped for. Thank you, Miss Bennet. May God bless you.” He bowed and then started walking back towards the mansion.
It took some minutes before Elizabeth got her legs to move.
She could not read the letter at the parsonage, so she walked over to the long-felled tree trunk and took a seat on it.
She broke the seal; the large raised ‘D’ surrounded by laurels in the wax led her to assume it was the Darcy seal. She opened the pages and began to read.
29 March 1812
Miss Elizabeth Bennet:
Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were this evening so disgusting to you.
Before I mention anything else, let me inform you that after I hand this missive to you I will depart Rosings Park.
My family, which includes Colonel Fitzwilliam, will remain as there are family issues which need to be dealt with.
More on this later. My decision to leave now is driven by my desire not to discompose you any more than I have.
I think we both need time and distance, and as I am the one who is able to travel without any effort, soon after you read this, I will be on my way.
Elizabeth felt confused. How was it that the man she accused of having ‘a selfish disdain for the feelings of others’ was taking her comfort into account and departing. She shook her head and returned to the voluminous letter.
My intention in writing to you is not to pain you, but rather in a large respect, to humble myself.
I have no intention of dwelling on wishes which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten.
Additionally, the effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion, could have been spared had not my character required it to be written and read.
You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I beg it of you knowing that you have a strong sense of justice.
However, if the following explanations which I must relate may be offensive to your sensibilities, I can only say that I am sorry.
From the severity of the blame, which was last night so liberally bestowed, I will attempt to give you a full and true accounting of my actions. All I can hope is that you will understand more of the truth of what was mentioned by you.
First, I will address the charges I am guilty of among what you last night accused me of.
You spoke of the insult at the assembly and you accused me of, regardless of the sentiments of either, I detached Mr Bingley from your sister.
That charge will be answered but first I must explain some things to you.
“It will be interesting to see how you justify your cruel actions towards Jane,” Elizabeth said aloud to the birds and insects in the area. She went back to the letter.
To be present at an assembly the first night I was in Hertfordshire was the last place I wanted to be, but it was either to attend or remain at Netherfield Park with Miss Bingley. I chose the lesser of two evils.
It does not excuse my conduct, but I begged Bingley not to importune me to dance any more than with his sisters.
Yes, I know that as a gentleman I should have danced as it was easy to see there were many more ladies than men.
When Bingley approached me and demanded I dance, I did not see you when I looked in your direction.
I said the most offensive thing I could think of at that moment to have him leave me be.
It should not have been said, was the furthest thing from the truth, and I apologise profusely.
It has been a long time since I have considered you the handsomest woman of my acquaintance.
With regards to your sister: I had not been long in Hertfordshire before I saw, as did his sisters, that Bingley preferred your elder sister to any other young woman in the country.
However, it was not till the evening of the ball at Netherfield Park that I had any apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment. I have often seen Mr Bingley in love before. In the past, those attachments have not led to anything permanent.
Elizabeth remembered Jane’s words in her letter. She had spoken of Mr Bingley’s inconsistency, and a lack of maturity. Could it be that she had interpreted Jane’s words to fit with her own pre-conceived notions? The feeling that it was a possibility was not one Elizabeth enjoyed.
At that ball, while I had the honour of dancing with you, I was first made aware, by Sir William Lucas’s accidental information, that Bingley’s attentions to your sister had given rise to a general expectation of their marriage.
He spoke of it as a certain event; at which time, it was not yet so because I know my friend had not declared himself.