Chapter Fifteen #3
“Our most exciting first week yet,” Lady Sophia declared. “We have always saved the game of phantoms for the end, when the young people are eager to be hidden away together in dark rooms.”
“But I am surprised you did not take the chance of getting a little revenge on Mr. Darcy in the game – Mamma was sure you would.”
“I always meant to make you a phantom,” Lady Sophia said with a wink.
Lady Blanche added another splash of brandy to her tea, and then to Elizabeth’s cup. “A little bird told me something I did not already know – about your time in Kent.”
“A little bird in a red coat?” Elizabeth groaned. She could throttle the man! Had he learned nothing after his indiscretion about Jane and Mr. Bingley?
Lady Blanche winked. “Well! You must really despise Mr. Darcy! I overheard Lady Rebecca trying to persuade him to stay at the manor with us, when she learned that you were not sailing. But I suppose you must be relieved he did not state here – I daresay Miss Bingley is thrilled.”
Lady Dorothea muttered something colorfully uncomplimentary under her breath.
Elizabeth sat back in her seat, shocked by Lady Blanche’s words.
To her own annoyance, Elizabeth was wounded, and wondered why Mr. Darcy had not taken his cousin’s advice.
She rallied herself to say that she was glad he had gone sailing, but she was not convinced she actually felt that way.
She took a sip of tea, her mind awhirl, and a surge of impatience rose in her chest. “I suppose I know now how my poor sister felt when Mr. Bingley abandoned her, raising so much speculation. I confess I have been very mortified by meeting with Mr. Darcy again so soon after… my visit to Kent. I have heard everybody’s opinions and insinuations about it.
My aunt and my sister, Anne, Colonel Fitzwilliam and his sister, and I suppose I always knew what you intended. ”
“I rather expected that you might take a bite out of him,” Lady Sophia said, her voice calm despite Elizabeth’s outburst.
This stunned Elizabeth, and before she knew it, tears were streaming down her face.
“I cannot! He had been too kind to me, and I do not know how to behave toward him. He is not at all the horrid ogre I had conceived him to be, and I am very cross that he has caused me so much confusion in reconsidering every conviction I spent months ranting about to all my friends and relations. It is awful. We are worse than strangers! I feel so uncomfortable in his presence, for he is all warmth and affection, and everyone around us is all expectation!”
And then it all came spilling out. She told the Goulding ladies of the letter Mr. Darcy wrote her, and of her daily reading of it.
Elizabeth had taken Jane’s advice and attempted to write in her oft-neglected diary, transcribing every word she had overheard him say to Lady Rebecca.
She had re-read it this morning – three times over.
It was mortifying in the extreme, and she began to feel sick just speaking of the great tumult of feelings she had not yet named aloud.
Lady Blanche put an arm around Elizabeth, we who had fled to the sofa where she wept into her hands. “Lizzy, is it possible that you do not dislike him any more? Is that what you do not wish to admit to yourself?”
“I fear it is! I have abused him in every possible way, and I cannot account for how or why he could possibly cherish any lingering regard for me. And yet, everyone has badgered me relentlessly about it. And I am very sorry for being so cross, but… I hate feeling such a fool!”
Another burst of sobs overtook her, and Lady Blanche soothingly stroked Elizabeth’s hair. “Do you regret refusing him?”
“Do not answer that, child – you are cruel, Blanche!” Lady Sophia strode across the room, gesturing for her daughter to move aside so that she could sit beside Elizabeth.
“What you may perhaps fail to understand is that your refusal of Mr. Darcy is itself an amazing thing – you must consider that Mr. Darcy likely does not know how to behave, either. I daresay a rich, handsome man of good character and understanding does not often find himself rejected by a woman of equal understanding but no fortune. But it is even more astonishing that he seems to have taken your criticism to heart.”
“A man, changing!” Lady Dorothea gave a wry laugh.
“If he is behaving better than before, you need not regret your refusal. Anyhow, my dear, it has happened. Now, you are here. Make of it what you will. It is a woman’s prerogative to change her mind – and a miracle to see a man change for the better!
” Lady Sophia nodded at her own wisdom, and tipped Elizabeth’s chin up.
“When I was your age, I would have killed to hold such power over a gentleman like that. ‘Tis nothing to weep about.”
Elizabeth was struck silent as she considered this new aspect of her dilemma. And then, the door to the parlor was flung open and Lady Rosamund rushed in. There was suddenly a great cacophony coming from downstairs, and Lady Rosamund wrung her hands. “It is Miss Bennet – she was thrown overboard.”