Chapter 1.14 #4
Elizabeth and Jane, still shocked at the sudden change of plans, tried to understand but dared not ask directly. They and their aunt only exchanged worried glances until Mr Darcy finally addressed them.
“Ladies, Mr Gardiner will escort you to the library, and I shall come to you shortly. Please follow him.”
Darcy joined them about fifteen minutes later, clothes changed, and what he saw literally broke his heart.
He never believed he would see Elizabeth’s beautiful face so darkened by grief or her eyes red and swollen with tears.
Mrs Gardiner was trying to comfort both her and Jane, and while Jane seemed somewhat reasonable, Elizabeth’s reaction was stronger than expected, almost violent.
“But, Papa, how could this happen? You knew what kind of man he was! Our eyes were opened to his true character by Mr Darcy so many weeks ago! Why was Lydia allowed to be in his company? Poor, poor stupid girl! Wickham will never marry her; we all know that. And even if he does…such a man! She is lost forever and our whole family ruined with her—”
“Lizzy dear—” Jane began, but Elizabeth would not be stopped.
“And how could she leave the house in the middle of the night without any of you seeing her? Did anyone ever oversee that girl?”
She knew she was selfish and unfair and that her words were hurting her dear father, but she could not control herself. She was deeply sorry for her sister and would have done anything to help her, but she was also burdened by her own pain and despair. Everything was lost; she knew that now.
Her power was sinking; everything must sink under such a proof of family weakness—such an assurance of the deepest disgrace.
Mr Darcy never would ask his question under these circumstances, and she could very well understand why. All her hopes vanished; all her happiness was doomed to end before it started, and all her love was in vain.
Hearing the man enter, she bit her lower lip until blood appeared in an attempt to stop her words and her weeping, but the tears continued to roll down her cheeks. She buried her face in a handkerchief to conceal her sobs.
Darcy moved closer to them, looking intently at Elizabeth, grieved to see her so affected by the news. He wanted so much to hold her, wipe her tears, and comfort her. He restrained the impulse, instead concentrating on the best way to finish what must be done to regain her tranquillity.
“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, did your father inform you of our plan?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Unfortunately, we must hurry. My carriage is waiting to take you all back to Gracechurch Street. Or, if you prefer, I would be honoured to have you as my guests here until tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Mr Darcy, we shall leave immediately,” answered Mrs Gardiner as her nieces seemed unable to speak.
They all went to the door silently, Mr Bennet leading the group to the carriage. Elizabeth trailed behind, unconsciously prolonging her last moments in his home. Her eyes and head were downcast in shame and humiliation.
She could feel Mr Darcy close behind her but dared not face him, even for a moment. She only hoped she could hold her tears long enough for him not to witness her weakness and despair. She had almost reached the door when she heard him call her as his hand touched her arm gently.
“Miss Elizabeth…”
Her name on his lips had such a sweet and tender resonance that her heart ached at the thought that he never would address her by her given name again.
She kept her eyes to the ground without any answer.
So he turned her to him, placing his hands on both her arms, barely touching her in a gentle embrace, without considering that her father and her other relatives were expectantly waiting for them only a short distance away.
“I do not want to make vain promises, but please trust me when I say I shall do everything in my power to bring all this to a better resolution than seems possible at the moment. You must have faith and trust me, Elizabeth.”
She finally dared to look at him closely as he lowered his head to hers; there was no disdain or pity in his eyes.
Nevertheless, there was pain; she recognised it and was content in her selfish grief to know that he, too, was suffering.
She was certain that he understood the gravity of the situation and its impact on their lives—their lives that could not be joined as they both desired, not after what had happened.
To share that burdening grief with him brought her pained heart a little comfort—very little.
Fearful that no other opportunity would likely present itself, Elizabeth did what she so often longed to do.
She lifted both her hands to stroke his face with tentative, cold, trembling fingers and with all the tenderness in her heart.
Her eyes, moist with tears, stared deeply into his as she tried to discover the most hidden part of his soul.
Then, standing on her toes, she touched her lips to his in the slightest, most tender kiss imaginable…
and in the next instant she was gone, not a glimpse of her appearing from within the carriage, which departed in haste.