Chapter Twenty Three
By the next morning, their party had grown smaller once more.
Mr. Willoughby and Elizabeth Elliot had absconded in the night – they had eloped to Gretna.
“How lovely their family parties shall be,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said to nobody in particular over breakfast. Lady Rebecca ignored him, staring at the seat that Mr. Bingley generally occupied – but he had gone to the local village church with Lady Dorothea and some others of their party, to hear the banns read for his sister and Sir Walter.
When the whole party was together again, their hostesses led them down to the shore for a seaside picnic. Anne, however, elected not to join them.
“I wish to stay here, Lizzy,” Anne said, following her friend as Elizabeth went upstairs to retrieve a light pelisse.
“Miss Dashwood has taken ill since hearing the latest of Mr. Willoughby’s treachery, and I am very sorry for her.
I know that she means a great deal to the colonel, so I think it a right thing that I stay with her and try to lift her spirits, if I can – as you did for me, on our first day here.
I know her friend Mrs. Jennings means well, but… .”
“But she cannot resist rehashing every detail of the scandal? I should wager Miss Dashwood would rather hear anything else, at such a time. But, Anne… do you mean to atone for admiring Colonel Brandon?”
“Perhaps a little,” Anne admitted. “My own sister was partially to blame for Miss Dashwood’s present misery, which is nearly as bad as the general shame of her elopement.
I am still much aggrieved about my great aunt…
perhaps Miss Dashwood and I shall be good company, for at present we are vexed with the same people.
And if my part is to help her see better of the colonel, rather than winning his admiration for myself… I shall accept it.”
“And when the wounds begin to heal, I daresay you will have forty-thousand sources of consolation,” Elizabeth reminded her.
She offered her friend a feeble smile, then threw caution to the wind and drew Anne into a tight embrace.
“If we come away with nothing else, we shall have a friend for life in one another, Anne Elliot.”
When Elizabeth rejoined the party, she tamped down the impulse to seek out Mr. Darcy, though it was he, above anybody, with whom she wished to spend a happy afternoon beside the sea.
She refused to be in Jane’s way, for her sister was so content with Captain Wentworth, absolutely radiating unblemished joy.
Elizabeth was happy that her sister had found a man who could move her as she deserved, but she knew it would hardly be a kindness to force her company on them.
She had spent several days in merry company with Lady Rebecca and Mr. Bingley, whom it was impossible to dislike, in spite of his dealings with Jane, and his horrid harpy of a sister.
Elizabeth would have been happy for another day of banter with them, but the pair had scarcely spoken, or even looked at one another, since Mr. Bingley returned from London.
Elizabeth was sure this must mean something – she was sure there was some attraction between the two, and even their refusal to take their romantic scene seriously had convinced her that she was right.
Fortunately, Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed cheerfully immune to the strange pall that had been cast over their party since the Shakespearean night.
Elizabeth liked him well enough in Kent, and bore him no ill will for his indiscreet remarks about Jane and Mr. Bingley.
She sat near him at the picnic, accompanied by Colonel Brandon, Harriet Smith, Lady Blanche and an uncommonly quiet Lady Rebecca.
There was an easy camaraderie between Lady Blanche and Colonel Fitzwilliam which kept their conversation lively.
When the latter was not making them laugh with his jests at the expense of their other companions, and the former was not speculation on the matches she wished to make, Elizabeth and Harriet sometimes whispered between themselves that perhaps there was an unlikely match being made in their very midst.
Elizabeth also shared this speculation with Lady Rebecca, hoping she would rouse from her reverie to tease her brother. “What do you say to Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lady Blanche? She is not so much older than him, and I daresay he is too stubborn to be matched with anybody else.”
Lady Rebecca turned pink. “Lizzy, what an idea!”
Elizabeth nudged her, desperate to make her friend playful again. “Come, now, when have you ever abstained from remarking on the affairs of your relations?”
“Perhaps it is high time that I attempt it.”
“Lady Rebecca, what ever is the matter?”
“Nothing – I do not think the sea air agrees with me.” Lady Rebecca stood, glanced over her shoulder – in the direction of Mr. Bingley – and stalked off back to the manor.
Lady Blanche watched with brows raised, then turned her attention to Harriet.
“Well, my dear, if none of the gentlemen present can please you, perhaps you shall take a liking to Henry – he is my favorite of my cousin’s children – and I expect him and his sister to arrive in just a few days.
Oho, Miss Lizzy is fascinated! As if you did not kiss Mr. Darcy on a Shakespeare Night! ”
Elizabeth blushed, and Colonel Fitzwilliam guffawed. “Perhaps it was only acting – that was the point of it all, was it not? I should never dare to suggest you had other motives, my lady.”
Sensing her need of rescue, Colonel Brandon moved to sit nearer to Elizabeth. “I am sorry your friend Miss Anne is not here to keep us company, as she often does, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Perhaps she will be of some cheer to your friend Miss Dashwood. I daresay her own story might give the younger woman some perspective. If Anne can bear watching a man she once loved pay court to another, surely Miss Dashwood will see that Willoughby is only reaping what he has sown.”
“I believe you have the right of it.”
“Anne told me so herself, and I daresay she is right. She comprehends that Miss Dashwood is… a figure of some significance to you.”
The colonel gave her a sad smile. “Will you walk with me?”
Elizabeth set aside her untouched image of cold meat and cheese, and Colonel Brandon helped her to her feet, then offered her his arm and began leading her along the shoreline. “May I confide in you, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Certainly,” she said, biting back a quip that she hoped he did not intend to ask her to cease promoting Anne to his notice.
“I have told Anne of my history with Miss Marianne – Miss Dashwood, now that her sister is wed – and she has told me of her former connection to Captain Wentworth. We have had a great deal of conversation, as I am sure you are aware.”
There was a lilt of humor to his voice, hinting that she was the cause of his time spent so often with Anne.
“I am not a man of high passion, like Willoughby, and perhaps even Wentworth. My disposition has cooled since my youth – time has healed many wounds, but I am not capable of what I once experienced, and have no wish to be so carried away by sentiment and impulse. Am I correct in supposing your friend may comprehend such sentiments?”
“I believe so – though perhaps you may know better than I could. She made her peace with Wentworth pursuing my sister easily enough. I suppose it would be safe to say that she did not feel equal to rekindling that particular flame of her youth – though I must say on behalf of womankind that when I am seven-and-twenty, I shall fight anybody who thinks me old – and I am trained in swordplay, now, you know.”
He laughed appreciatively. “I speak in terms of society’s prevailing views, rather than my own. But like me, Anne is treated as such – we are past our prime, certainly past any pretensions to grand passion.”
“If you say so, sir.”
“I am asking you – Miss Elizabeth, would she ever really think of me? Might the specter of Miss Dashwood and Captain Wentworth be banished, might something steadier be built?”
“If you admire her, I cannot think she would have any objection. You ought to speak to her.”
“I shall; I do admire her. I have held her in high esteem as a most respectable, kind, and generous young lady, but her actions today have touched my heart. I had long reconciled myself to not being Miss Dashwood’s choice – I can hardly blame her, for she is half my age, so full of youth and exuberance.
Her pursuit of Willoughby even after the events that unfolded in London has only taught me the folly of that attachment.
I am convinced I should have made Miss Dashwood miserable, even if she had allowed me to love her.
But when presented with the contrast of their characters, I have found in Miss Anne a woman whom I believe I could love as she deserves, if she could be happy with sedate affection. ”
Elizabeth considered his words for a few minutes before she replied.
She stared out at the sparkling sea, wondering if it was really a folly to desire great passion.
“As a devoted friend, I should always want the best for her. I must hope you are only selling yourself short, sir – and I should say as much to Anne, as well. There is always such joy in loving, and being loved in return, that perhaps you may find something akin to what you were capable of in your youth. I should wish that for both of you, with all my heart.”