Chapter 16 #2
“Thank you all,” she whispered, tearful.
“Do not thank us, Lizzy—we are your family. We will leave tomorrow, early in the morning. Now I will send a note to inform your aunt of developments. And then perhaps we could eat—I confess I am very hungry,” Mr. Gardiner concluded.
“Of course. Dinner will be ready soon,” Darcy said. “And we may discuss the travel arrangements while we eat.”
“If you do not mind, I will see Sarah briefly and then retire to my chamber. I shall not join you for dinner tonight,” Elizabeth said.
“I dare say that is a wise decision,” Darcy said, holding her gaze. “It has been a day as long as a month. Dinner will be sent to your room and please ring for anything else you need.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth replied, warmed by his care.
“I will accompany Lizzy and will meet you all later,” Jane said, and the two of them left arm in arm.
Hesitant, with the last trace of her strength, almost defeated by exhaustion, Elizabeth walked upstairs with her sister, her mind struggling to comprehend her present circumstances.
It was seven o’clock in the evening, on the third day since she had been saved from the cruelty of her husband.
The third day since she became a widow. And the first day of her new social position, as the mistress of an impressive fortune.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth startled at the sound of footsteps. She pulled the sheets tighter around her and looked anxiously around the dark room. It smelled of burning fabric and smoke. Her throat was stinging and her eyes blurred.
The door opened slowly. She heard movement and noticed a shadow approaching.
She wanted to jump from the bed but her body would not listen.
Fear paralysed her, while the shadow was overwhelmingly close.
It leaned over the bed, onto her and she felt the weight of it trapping her.
Her throat became sore, forbidding her to breathe.
She struggled for air, while cold shivers enveloped her.
She could not move, nor speak, nor even cry and fighting was useless.
With a last effort, she pushed the weight away and tried to rise, while finally, a weak sound escaped from her dry lips.
She found herself sitting in the middle of the bed, quivering from the cold sweat.
The August night was warm and the noise and smells of the town entered through the half-open window.
There was no fire, no smoke, no threat, no danger.
She was in Darcy’s house, with her uncle, her sister and brother-in-law sleeping in nearby rooms. The house was the safest place she could find.
And Darcy’s presence was the assurance she needed to move forward from the ordeal of the last months.
She knew she demanded too much from him by the mere fact of being in his house and involving him in the countless problems around her.
His generous and compassionate nature—and probably the strong affection that he still felt, although she was not worthy of it—induced him to help her.
She could feel his care and his worry in his words, in his glances, in his frowns, in his small gestures—and she knew she did not deserve it.
Awakened from her nightmare, Elizabeth looked for water but the jug on the table was empty.
She remembered that, at Jane’s insistence, she had eaten some soup, but more than hungry, she was exhausted and thirsty.
She had drunk all the water and even stolen a little sleep until her nightmares had banished it.
She put her on her robe and left the room, in search of fresh water.
Ringing for the maid was not an option, as it would disturb the entire staff.
She decided to look in the library–although it was rather far away.
She remembered that one night when she had carelessly walked into the library at Lord Barrington’s house, provoking her husband's fury.
While she slipped down the hall holding a candle, she remembered that Jane had two jugs in her room, but she was reluctant to disturb her sister and her husband in the middle of the night. Eventually, she realised she might find either more water or the maid in Sarah’s room and there she went.
As she reached the door she startled, hearing footsteps, and almost dropped the candle when she felt a touch on her arm.
“Miss Bennet?”
“Mr. Darcy...”
“I am sorry, have I frightened you? Do you need anything? Are you unwell?” he asked in a low voice, his worry apparent. As it was dark, he leaned towards her, barely able to see her face.
“No...I am fine...I was thirsty and I have no water in my room. I hoped to find some in Sarah’s room. I did not want to ring and disturb the servants.”
“I will gladly bring you a jug of fresh water. Is there anything else you need?”
“No...Thank you...”
“Very well. You should return to your chamber—you are barefoot,” he said.
She looked at her feet and felt her cheeks burning “Thank you...I will.”
She hurried back, distressed and embarrassed, wondering what he was doing up at that late hour. Inside her bed-chamber, she sat at the small table, near the window. The light from the moon and the stars met the shy flame of the two candles resting on the table.
She nervously waited for the knock at the door and startled at its sound. She had no reason to be frightened, but the fear was still there, deep inside her.
Darcy entered carrying a jug with water and a tray.
“I took the liberty of bringing you a little bit of port, some meat, some cheese and some biscuits that were left in the library after dinner. Bingley, Mr. Gardiner and I were talking in there until just a few minutes ago but we drank more than we ate.” He tried to sound light as he put the tray on the table.
Elizabeth thanked him with a smile. In the candlelight, he looked tall, powerful, imposing and trustworthy.
“Would you like to sit for a moment?” she invited him. He was surprised and hesitant.
“Oh, forgive me, sir, that was inconsiderate. It is very late and you must be tired. You have wasted yet another day with me. The third day...”
He cautiously sat on the chair, opposite her. “I would never consider spending time with you a waste, Miss Bennet. It is the least I can do to compensate for my guilt.”
“Your guilt? What could you possibly mean, sir?”
“I had a long conversation with Mr. Gardiner and Bingley. We know how this situation occurred. You were alone, with no other way to support your family. We know you traded your safety for your family’s.
Bingley blames himself. He said that had he returned to Netherfield last winter, you would not have been forced to make such a sacrifice.
But we all know it was my fault. I convinced Bingley to remain in town, I convinced him he had no reason to return to your sister.
It was all due to my arrogance and my mistaken pride.
If I had allowed Bingley to decide for himself, or if I had not behaved in such an outrageous manner towards you… ”
“I behaved outrageously to you, Mr. Darcy. It was my fault entirely—mine alone. My choice and my responsibility, willingly and consciously taken, I still do not regret meeting the Countess of Sedgewick. What I did not know was that Lord Barrington was deceptive and manipulative. This I could not anticipate. Lady Sedgewick warned me that I would have a hard life with him but not for a moment did she—or I—suspect the whole truth.”
“Nobody did, I am sure....”
“However, neither you nor Charles can be blamed for my actions. Or for Lord Barrington’s. It pains me to know you are taking so much upon yourself, after all you have done for me.”
“If only we had known sooner...As my aunt said, Bingley told me that the earl would not allow your family to see you. But many titled men who marry someone from below their circle insist on cutting the relationship with their families. Then, when Bingley showed me your letter, I knew something was wrong. Horribly wrong.”
“When Jane wrote to me, he probably imagined she might apply to the solicitors or trustees to see me. So, with the likely purpose of preventing her from doing so, he demanded I write back. I knew it was the only possible way to alert Jane, my uncle and aunt. My only chance, though not without considerable risk—just like starting the fire.”
Both spoke in low voices, unsettled by their distress, mostly avoiding the other’s eyes. Sitting across the table, they appeared to be two old friends chatting. As improper as the hour and the place were, the interlude helped them both to clear their hearts and minds.
“You must know that even before Bingley received the letter, he and your uncle intended to apply to the trustees. And when we came to confront Barrington we had decided not to leave without you. Even without the fire, we would not have left you there.”
“I was so frightened that Charles and my uncle would insist on seeing me and would put themselves in danger! I expected the worst from Lord Barrington. Then, when I heard your voice and I saw you...I was so astonished and so relieved. As much as I knew I had no right to expect anything from you and did not deserve your help, I was so deeply grateful to have it. I still am and always will be.”
“Let us not speak of gratitude. I only did what my heart and my reason induced me to do. It is all over now.”
“Yes. I still cannot believe that only three days and three nights have passed. It seems longer than a year.”
A short pause followed.
“I hope that Charles and my uncle will find Cece. I pray she is at her property. If not, I cannot even imagine where she might be.”
“Let us hope so. If she owns a house, I am sure she found a way to travel there. We have only one more day to wait. Bingley and Mr. Gardiner will leave at dawn. Two servants and the coachman will accompany them.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You should sleep now, Lady Barrington...Miss Bennet...And I insist that a little port will help you.”