Beginning, Section II
Mrs. Bennet had just finished having a word with Hill about replenishing the coffee when she was surprised to be approached by Caroline Bingley. How peculiar! She had never before been singled out by Bingley's family. She would have to get used to such attentions, she decided, destined as they were to become her own family. 'Such ladies of fashion, did you ever see such lace!' she thought to herself.
"Mrs. Bennet, I was wondering if I could have a quiet word with you?" began Caroline, simpering in her most ' butter would melt in her mouth' tone.
"Why certainly, Miss Bingley. Is it a 'private' matter? " she croaked conspiratorially, giving Caroline a wink. For a moment Caroline was taken aback and almost thought better of her plan. Surely it would not be successful with such a creature for a partner! Those eyes, with their fluttering lashes and impertinent glint, that sometimes resembled other 'fine eyes' ... it took Caroline a moment to regain her countenance as she could not help but think to herself that those eyes were rather bovine in appearance, no doubt with intelligence to match.
Caroline made a great show of appearing reticent and reluctant, eyes downcast, tiny sigh, a subtle wringing of delicate hands, she continued, "Mrs. Bennet, I am sure you are aware that my good mother passed on when I was quite young?" Caroline paused to allow Mrs. Bennet to coo and exclaim the requisite banalities this sort of revelation usually inspired. "I have always regretted that I have not had a confidante of greater experience and .....wisdom... to guide me."
"Ooooh," squealed Mrs. Bennet happily leaping into the conversation in precisely the manner that Caroline had hoped for. " My dear sweet girl, how awful it must have been for you to be without a mother all this while, it is no small wonder you have not yet formed an advantageous establishment! But fear not, you may count on me to provide you with every assistance in my power to give! Why I already consider you my daughter! "
Caroline valiantly fought the wave of disgust that washed over her at this inelegant, presumptuous speech. She prayed that Mrs. Bennet would not feel the need to demonstrate her maternal feelings with an embrace. She almost stamped her foot in frustration at the ridiculous situation she found herself in. She felt no small annoyance toward Mr. Darcy. If only he were sensible enough to do the expected and offer her his hand ! Toward Elizabeth she felt something remarkably like hate, and it was this sentiment that propelled Caroline forward.
"You are too kind Mrs. Bennet. Indeed we will be close relations very shortly, and it is this relationship that prompts me to speak to you of a most sensitive matter. As your future daughter (here Caroline nearly choked) I feel it incumbent upon me to mention...... Oh how shall I phrase this delicately? I should not wish to insult, and Mrs. Bennet I must ask for your complete confidence else I would be too too afraid to speak frankly."
Mrs. Bennet was nearly in a frenzy of curiosity by this time and speedily gave Caroline her assurance of complete secrecy. For once silenced, Mrs. Bennet eagerly and attentively waited for Caroline to continue.
Caroline watched Mrs. Bennet fairly squirming in anticipation and paused deliberately to heighten the sensation. A flair for the dramatic was something that Caroline counted as one of the finest accomplishments a lady could acquire. "Mr. Darcy is a great friend of our family.... I am in fact secretly engaged to him. We are waiting only for his sister Georgiana to be of age to be out in society. Mr. Darcy worries that Georgiana will feel awkward and in the way with a newly married couple, if she is 'out' she will have so many more opportunities to be visiting friends and so forth that we will be able to be together without any awkwardness." Caroline put up a delicate hand to forestall Mrs. Bennet's congratulatory effusions.
"Mr. Darcy as you can imagine, confides in me. Mrs. Bennet I am about to tell you something in all conscience I should not tell you as it was shared with me in confidence. However I am having serious reservations about continuing in my engagement with Mr. Darcy and am sorely in need of your opinion. Also there would be most grievous ramifications for your family and so I feel justified speaking with you about this. "
Caroline swallowed nervously at her outrageous falsehood. "My fiancee, Mr. Darcy feels that your daughter Miss Eliza is expecting his attentions. He is very amused by this Mrs. Bennet. He laughs at the notion of the Darcys being allied in any way with the Bennets. But he does consider an alliance Mrs. Bennet! He is a very great gentleman you know, and has made it plain to me that once we are wed he will act the part of the gentleman in taking a mistress. He assures me that it is very common and his honesty demands that I be aware of it in advance. "
Caroline held up her hand again as Mrs. Bennet began to splutter and gawk. She blushed furiously at the subject matter, which she hoped would prove her earnestness to Mrs. Bennet. She continued in a whisper, feeling physically weak and rather surprised at herself. She spoke quickly, words tumbling over each other in their hurry to be uttered.
"He speaks of the Bennets' vulgarity and inferior social position, how they are a gabble of greedy fortune hunters and .......trollops.....forgive me, but he speaks of Mrs. Wickham's sudden marriage as proof of the family's weakness. He has told me he is very near the point of encouraging my brother to reconsider his offer to Jane! He realizes that breach of promise would be shockingly rude but he begins to declare such an act preferable to being related to the Bennets ! But this is not the worst ! He intends to take Miss Eliza as his mistress, and believes that Charles should do the same with Jane . Oh Mrs. Bennet forgive me I cannot go on.....please......this information never came from me!" Breathless and flushed Caroline left the room to wander the halls of Longbourn until she could compose her nerves.
After Caroline had departed Mrs. Bennet continued in the same stance with the same slack-jawed expression for above ten minutes. No one paid her any mind whatsoever as they were still enjoying the musical interlude.
Georgiana had gently persuaded Lizzy to entertain the company with a song. Lizzy felt terribly awkward. She was very sensible of Mr. Darcy's attention and knew not how to account for it. She was all confusion and agitation. He certainly looked at her a great deal, and there was admiration in his regard. 'Oh please, please let this mean we can be friends," she thought tentatively, "I do not dare hope for more, my heart would shatter if it were not to be." Elizabeth chose to sing an old English ballad, simplicity being a paramount consideration. She did not feel equal to a greater effort. She studiously ignored Mr. Darcy, for she knew she could not play tolerably well if she allowed herself to bask in his gaze.
Mr. Darcy leaned forward slightly in his chair, eagerly anticipating the swell of Elizabeth's song. He observed the faint blush on her cheeks, and was charmed anew. His resolve not to impose his attentions on her was carried away into thin air, floating out with the fading notes of the pianoforte. He was helpless, mesmerised, lost in a reverie.
Mr. Darcy was startled by the sudden appearance of Mrs. Bennet by his side, her hand gently on his shoulder. Her face was pale, her countenance grim. "Mr. Darcy, may I have a word please? Now. It is a matter of utmost urgency." The tone of calm and command in her voice caught his attention. He regarded her narrowly for a moment before he silently, and with as little disruption as possible, acquiesced to her summons and accompanied her in silence to the empty breakfast room, a feeling of foreboding in his heart.
Georgiana noted Mr. Darcy's departure with some puzzlement and not a little trepidation. She looked down furtively at Elizabeth who was oblivious and thankfully played on. However, some minutes later Elizabeth glanced up and could not help but notice that Mr. Darcy's seat was conspicuously empty. A sharp stab of disappointment assailed her, quickly followed with a pang of worry. What if he were ill? Her hands faltered slightly over a more difficult passage and she re-focused her attention on her performance, steadily opposing her fluttering emotions.
Caroline sat quietly on a cushion in the window box of the breakfast nook, curtains drawn, where she had hidden herself. She had shed a few tears and had had to fight valiantly to stifle them from becoming a deluge. She knew she had only a short while before her absence would be remarked upon.
Her mind rebelled, her heart raced, she was numb with shock and disbelief. She felt almost ill. Not since the deaths of her mother and father had she ever felt this degree of agitation. "I did it," she whispered to herself. "I uttered those dreadful falsehoods. What if that horrid woman repeats them to all the guests?" She moaned in fear of being exposed as a liar and having to face all those people. They would know that she had behaved in a manner most unbecoming to a lady of good breeding. She berated herself bitterly. "What did I expect to gain from this action that would justify the risks involved? I must have been out of my mind! I shall be ruined! Mr. Darcy will never think of me now." Her thoughts ran on and on in this manner, with less remorse for her actions than horror at the consequences they would incur.
Caroline gasped softly when she heard the door open and someone enter the room. A small amount of light leaked through a space in the curtain and she very soon realized who the room's other occupants were and it paralysed her with fear. So she sat still as a tomb, hardly drawing breath, lace handkerchief pressed tightly against her mouth with two clenched fists. Though she mightily wished herself elsewhere, she felt that if only she could remain undiscovered, overhearing this conversation would be very illuminating.
It would have been very much in Mrs. Bennet's character to rant and rave, screech and wail and otherwise carry on. She was no stranger to causing a scene. On this occasion however, though her feelings were effusive her demeanour was not. She stood facing Mr. Darcy completely silent and completely still, the ominous hiss of her breathing the only evidence of her discomposure. Her outrage channeled itself entirely through her eyes which flashed and sparked a deadly challenge.
Mr. Darcy was unable to correctly interpret the gaze of hatred which fell upon him. He was not closely acquainted with Mrs. Bennet, and had the idea, given his limited amount of prior experience with her temperament, that anyone who incurred her wrath would not long be in suspense of it. He saw in her eyes an earnestness, and seriousness which frightened him far more than her anger ever could. Mr. Darcy was suffering under the mistaken notion that Mrs. Bennet had become cognizant of his regard and had some ill information to impart about Elizabeth. "Oh Lord," he thought weakly "is she dreadfully ill? Is she involved with someone else?"
The silence continued and became increasingly uncomfortable. Mr. Darcy's thoughts and pulse raced, he felt beads of sweat form on his brow and upper lip. Finally in exasperation he broke the silence. "Mrs. Bennet will you not tell me what is wrong? It is most unusual of you to request this meeting with me. It is about ----- Elizabeth?"
He repelled the urge to pace about the room. He was concerned for Mrs. Bennet who remained rooted to the spot and completely mute. She behaved as though in shock. If not for her bright (fine?) eyes, he would wonder if she had not died standing up. He stepped closer to her, intending to lead her to a chair.
His movement brought Mrs. Bennet to herself again, his proximity was fortunate, else he would not have heard her. "Mr. Darcy," she almost whispered, voice hoarse with emotion, "I am informed of your intentions toward my daughter Elizabeth. Rest assured sir, that neither her father nor myself will ever countenance such an alliance. Elizabeth has never made secret her dislike of you, nor do any in her family feel differently. It is only your connection to Mr. Bingley that provides you entrance into this house. I entreat you, sir, do not pain any of us, most of all Elizabeth, by continuing to press your attentions on her. You sir, are no gentleman. I do not believe you are welcome in this house any longer." The uncharacteristic calmness of spirit and expression lasted while Mrs. Bennet turned her back on Mr. Darcy and marched up to her rooms, where she promptly fell apart.
Mr. Darcy stood for a moment precisely as Mrs. Bennet had left him. All the blood had drained from his head at the commencement of her speech and he felt uncomfortably light-headed. He did not trust himself to move. Suddenly the mortification of it all overcame him --- to be irrefutably informed by the mother of his beloved that his tender regard was unrequited!! The blood rushed back to his face as quickly as it left and though he felt unequal to facing anyone, he knew he had to act. With alacrity he left the room and ordered his carriage. Hesitantly and woefully he re-joined the others just as Mary Bennet finished displaying her talents. Several eyes turned in his direction as he entered.
Caroline wondered at the audacity of Mrs. Bennet to speak so to Mr. Darcy! Still, she was grateful that the old crone had performed her role so admirably. By the time Mr. Darcy left the room Caroline was in far better spirits, reasonably assured by Mrs. Bennet's conduct that she would not be exposed. She would retain anonymity, she would not be discovered, she had eliminated her greatest rival for Mr. Darcy's affections. Caroline emerged from the room triumphantly, not noticing that she had been observed.
Mr. Darcy sighed with frustration upon noting that the seating arrangement had not altered in his absence. To approach Georgiana he would have to come near Elizabeth. Taking a deep breath and drawing himself to his greatest height, he went to them, refusing to catch Elizabeth's eye. He could not know it, but his habitual mask of hauteur admirably covered all the hurt and confusion he felt.
He held out his hand to help Georgiana to stand. "Come dear sister, I have ordered our carriage." He turned to go, and when Georgiana began to sputter an objection, he dropped her hand. "Please," he implored in an agonized whisper. Georgiana could not resist such a plea. Turning helplessly to Elizabeth she hurriedly said her good-byes, clearly embarrassed and agitated.
Elizabeth was on her feet at once, and followed them from the room. In the front hall the servant awaited to help them with their cloaks, and the footman announced their carriage. The door of the vestibule opened then and in came a bemused and distracted couple, Jane and Mr. Bingley who had just spent a romantic half hour in the garden reveling in each other's company, not even noticing the brisk night air.
They were much taken aback by the scene in front of them. Mr. Darcy grim and silent, Georgiana tearful and pleading, Elizabeth pale and shaking. "What's all this? " boomed Mr. Bingley in his most cheerful manner. "Where ever are you going Darcy?" He regarded Mr. Darcy with a cheeky grin, not suspecting the gravity of the situation.
Mr. Darcy stared steadfastly at the ground. "To Pemberley Charles, at morning's first light. There is nothing for me here!" Before anyone could react they were gone.
"Elizabeth?" Jane turned to her sister to provide support and seek an explanation of this strange occurrence. Elizabeth ignored Jane and Mr. Bingley and walked out the door. She walked away from the house and kept on walking, not hearing anything at all.
Mr. Bingley sent Jane inside to find her father, and ran out the door after Elizabeth. Clouds had been forming and obscured the light of the moon, impeding his progress. He very soon gave over the idea of finding her and persuading her to come back in from the cold. He carefully found his way to the house where he found that his engagement party was for all intents and purposes, over. The festive spirit was very much subdued. Jane was weeping in her father's arms, and many of the guests were preparing to leave, knowing something was amiss, but being too well mannered, despite overwhelming curiosity, to stay and find out exactly what.
Mr. Bingley stood helpless in front of Jane and ruefully admitted he'd been unable to locate her sister. "It is too dark, I shall go out again directly --the servants are preparing lanterns." Mr. Bennet thanked him profusely and for the moment relinquished his daughter to the capable hands of her fiancé.
He had to find out exactly what was underfoot, Jane had been unable to enlighten him. He knew Mr. Darcy was gone, Lizzy was gone. He had some idea that fate was continuing to be unkind to this young couple. Mrs. Bennet's absence did not bode well. He went directly to her chamber to confront her.
Mrs. Bennet threw herself in her husband's arms as soon as he entered. She wept piteously and it was some time before he could make any sense of her babblings. After much reassurance and consolation, which greatly tried his patience, he was able to determine what had passed. He looked earnestly into his wife's face. "Do you mean to tell me, Mrs. Bennet that you have thrown Mr. Darcy out of our home?"
"Yes!!!" she replied shrilly, beginning to weep anew. "He is engaged! He only wants to bring ruin and disgrace on our family by seducing Elizabeth! He insulted Lydia!"
Mr. Bennet was very much surprised at the turmoil this evening had caused, but being a rational creature he persevered as calmly as possible. "Mrs. Bennet. What exactly did Mr. Darcy say to you?"
Mrs. Bennet suddenly stopped her snivelling, lost in thought, sniffing inelegantly. "Why, I do not recall that he said anything, I had my information from another....."
"Mrs. Bennet!!! You behaved in an abominably rude manner to a guest, merely in response to hearsay?!!"
"I believe my source to be well informed Mr. Bennet." She tried to appear haughty but only managed a feeble petulance.
"Who is this 'source' of yours?"
"I promised to keep her confidence!" Her eyes flashed with some spirit, still convinced that she had the right of it.
"Oh," said Mr. Bennet sarcastically, " his betrothed, no doubt. I hardly believe Mr. Darcy to be the sort to have a fiancee and not make it public! You would rather see Elizabeth break her heart than reveal your 'source' to me?"
Mrs. Bennet was steadfastly determined.
"It is too late anyway," he snapped, "the damage has been done, Mr. Darcy has left and now Elizabeth will never find happiness! This entire situation is too, too ridiculous!!!"
Mr. Bennet stormed downstairs in time to join Mr. Bingley, Mr. Hurst and Mr. Gardiner in search of Elizabeth. Jane, still distraught, was consigned to the arms of her Aunt Gardiner. Mrs. Phillips had ensconced herself upstairs with her sister, in a posture reminiscent of their recent troubles with Lydia. Mary and Kitty sat silently in wonder and amazement, not understanding any of it.
Louisa looked askance at Caroline. "Where have you been sister? I have been wondering after you practically this whole evening!" She peppered Caroline with queries until finally, admitting this was not an ideal place for private discussion, she extracted a promise from her sister to reveal her part in the proceedings.
Caroline was grateful for the enforced silence that arose from the awkwardness of the situation. Mr. Darcy's removal to Pemberley on the morrow did not agree with her wishes at all. She had to contrive some way to change his mind! What good would there be in her triumph against Elizabeth if she did not immediately press Mr. Darcy to switch allegiance?
Mr. Darcy reclined in the carriage, head back eyes closed. He wished fervently to avoid conversation with Georgiana. It was, of course a futile wish. As timid as was her nature, as deferential and adoring as she had always been toward her older brother, Georgiana was in no mood to be trifled with. She began tenderly, with great concern, "William I do not understand what has happened. Something is terribly wrong, will you not tell me what it is?" She was greatly irritated to receive no response at all.
Mr. Darcy was lost in a world of his own, a bleak world, a black world, a world with no Elizabeth. He felt himself awash in feelings of bitterness and despair. He ached with loneliness, sure in the knowledge that these emotions would only grow stronger as the remainder of his life stretched before him empty and grey. He thought there could be nothing worse than this state of wretchedness! He would soon enough discover there was one thing worse....
Georgiana had very quickly reached the end of her patience. This night she had discovered within herself strength, courage and determination which she had not known existed. A protective urge had been awakened in her, directed toward her brother and Elizabeth as well. As her frustration and worry increased she suddenly lost all composure, forgot all precepts about proper behaviour for young ladies and began to scream. "FITZWILLIAM GEORGE DARCY!!!!! YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME!!!!!!"
Mr. Darcy looked at his sister then and the despair in his regard cut into her tender heart and she began to cry. He opened his arms to her and they embraced frantically, waves of unhappiness enveloping them. "William, you love her . I can see that." No response. "William, she loves you too. I can see it in her eyes. Can you not see it? What is keeping you apart?" Mr. Darcy just shook his head helplessly and held her more tightly as her tears completely overcame her. They passed the rest of the distance to Netherfield in silence.
Mr. Darcy escorted his sister to her bedchamber. The sight of the two drained, defeated figures tugged at the heartstrings of Georgiana's maid. There had been bad work of some sort tonight, of that she was certain. She acknowledged with some surprise the information that they were to leave for Pemberley early the next morning. She averted her eyes when Mr. Darcy bade Georgiana a quiet goodnight, kissed her on the forehead and left.
In the hall, Mr. Darcy stopped for a moment, leaned against the wall weakly . He considered retiring, but knew Bingley would want some sort of explanation for his behaviour. As much as he dreaded this, he acknowledged to himself that he owed Bingley that courtesy at least. With this in mind he found his way to the library where he sat in the darkness to wait and brood and fortify himself with his friend's best spirits.
It was Mr. Hurst who found Elizabeth, crumpled in a heap near the stables, where she had evidently tried to saddle and ride a horse and had been thrown. He was momentarily stunned at the sight of her. He very quickly came to himself and shouted for assistance even as he knelt by her side. He turned her over and was relieved to hear a soft moan. She had landed on a grassy knoll which had nicely broken her fall. Scooping her up in his arms he started towards the bobbing lanterns quickly coming his way.
Amid exclamations and lamentations Elizabeth fully regained consciousness and bade Mr. Hurst to please put her down. The gentleman complied reluctantly and with Bingley's help kept hold of her to help her into the house. It was the work of minutes to determine that Elizabeth had not been seriously harmed. She was bruised, she was very cold and suffering somewhat from shock, but her bones were sound and her conversation perfectly rational.
Many were the hugs and smiles of relief. Jane held Lizzy as tightly as her bruises would allow and vowed not to leave her side until she was perfectly well. Mr. Bingley was somewhat alarmed but it was a moment's work to declare that the morrow's departure would be delayed as long as necessary. He would not be without his Jane and his Jane could not be without her Elizabeth.
Elizabeth objected strenuously to the proposed disruption of their plans. "In fact, " she smiled, "if you will consent to merely delay the time of your departure, I should like to join you after all." This confirmed for some that her prior reluctance to be of the party was attributable to Mr. Darcy's being part of the group. His going to Pemberley removed that particular impediment. Only her father could see that the smile that lit her face did not reach as far as her eyes. It seemed that the entire party had chosen to forget the extraordinary circumstances of the evening. After settling that Lizzy should be seen by the apothecary in the morning, it was decided to base the time of their departure on that good man's opinion.
And so with tender good-byes the Netherfield party took their leave and Elizabeth was tucked soundly into her bed. She fell asleep immediately, or at least appeared to --- for she vowed she would not burden Jane with her troubles. Jane, seeing that Lizzy needed her rest, put aside her curiosity for the moment, resolving to bring the subject up as soon as Lizzy was up to it. The sight of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy at the door this evening had awakened a notion in Jane's mind. She hoped she was right, but would have to wait until the next day at least to confirm it.
Caroline Bingley was in a state of nerves the whole way to Netherfield. She had to throw over all notions of convincing Mr. Darcy to go to London, if Elizabeth was to go after all. She was subjected throughout the ride to Mr. Bingley's warm and spirited conjectures as to what had just passed. She and Louisa exchanged a glance that promised to keep silent on the subject. Louisa was all agog and had difficulty restraining herself from pressing Caroline to speak immediately.
Mr. Hurst looked at the two women, intercepting their silent signals, and for once resolved to get to the bottom of this. The sight of Elizabeth's prostrate form had affected him deeply, he was aghast to find he suspected the Bingley sisters were somehow involved. To Louisa's tremendous annoyance, upon their arrival at Netherfield he insisted that she join him directly in their chambers. "It is far too late to indulge in more hen talk," he commented.
Caroline found herself grateful to Mr. Hurst, for though she was anxious to reveal her actions to Louisa she was in far too pleased a mood to dwell on the unpleasantness of it just now. Tomorrow would be soon enough to arrange a tête-à-tête with her chief advisor. For the time being Caroline smiled to herself as she contemplated the happiness ahead of her. The most prominent of obstacles had been eliminated. She was confident that the rest of her ambitions would now fall nicely into place. With a sigh of contentment she drifted off to dream of the shades of Pemberley.
Mr. Darcy heard the soft and measured steps of Mr. Bingley as he entered the room, but did not rise to greet him. "It is very late Charles. I hope your evening was not terribly disrupted?"
Mr. Bingley felt a rush of anger toward his dearest friend. "Good God Darcy, what were you about tonight? I thought Miss Elizabeth would be killed! I do not profess to understand any of the events that transpired this evening and I would kindly request that you illuminate the matter for me at once!"
Mr. Darcy stood quickly, "Elizabeth killed? What?"
Mr. Bingley took pity on his friend upon perceiving his pallor and shaking hands. "Do not alarm yourself Darcy, we left Miss Elizabeth well. She merely had an accident. She fell from her horse, but is perfectly well and indeed will be joining us on our trip tomorrow depending on the verdict of the apothecary. Do you not think you will reconsider and join us as well?" Mr. Darcy dropped like a stone back into his seat and quickly swallowed the remains of his drink. "Darcy, why did Elizabeth feel the need to walk out of the house into the cold and try to ride a horse, something she admittedly does very ill, presumably away from Longbourn, in the middle of a dark night? You must have some notion of what would make her behave so strangely!"
Mr. Darcy threw back his head and laughed uproariously, as Mr. Bingley had never before witnessed. After some minutes the laughter abated and Mr. Darcy buried his face in his hands and shook his head adamantly. Mr. Bingley crouched by his side and touched his shoulder gently. Slowly their eyes met, and one friend recoiled at what he saw there. "The whys and wherefores of Miss Elizabeth Bennet's behaviour is nothing to me Bingley. Her mother made it perfectly plain to me tonight that I am no longer welcome there, that my affections for her daughter are not reciprocated. I am sure she will be perfectly well as soon as I remove myself from her life."
Mr. Bingley was stupefied. "You love Elizabeth? Mrs. Bennet told you she does not love you?" He struggled to take in this extraordinary information. "Darcy, I never would have teased you this evening about following my example if I had known how forward things had gone with you...."
Over a fresh bottle of spirits the two friends sat for some time as Mr. Darcy confided the whole of the situation. "You see then Bingley that I have no choice but to return to Pemberley, I love her too well to continue to impose upon her." Mr. Bingley was excessively grieved for his friend and for himself as well for he could not help but realize the import of this situation to his friendship with Darcy. After an extra long spell of silence, Mr. Darcy excused himself and retired a broken man.
A solitary light burned in Longbourn house, as Mr. Bennet sat at his desk, furiously penning a letter. When it had finished drying he read it through one final time, sadly shaking his head. Another time he would have been excessively amused. He sealed the letter and stood looking out at the darkness. Tonight he found nothing to laugh at.
It can be easily imagined, that although everyone was safely in their bed chambers at both Longbourn and Netherfield, very few of them obtained a tolerable nights rest.
Mrs. Bennet fussed, fumed and muttered to herself how very ill-used she was.
The Gardiners were awake some time endeavouring to make sense of the evenings excitement. They were firm in their belief that Mr. Darcy loved Elizabeth, but could not account for the suddenness of his departure nor the strange depression of their niece's spirits.
Mary and Kitty merely spoke together as young ladies always did over a social occasion. They discussed the entire evenings events in general terms only, until sleep at last crept over them, mid-sentence.
Jane divided her wakefulness between the anticipation of a trip to London, tender reflections of her Mr. Bingley, and a growing determination to offer herself to Elizabeth as confidante. It was not in Jane's nature to press her sister for information she was nonetheless longing to have. She had perceived Lizzy's distress and was affected by it. On the morrow therefore, she would speak as frankly as possible with Lizzy, certain that whatever the outcome she could not fail to be pleased. It would all work out in the end....
Elizabeth felt more distress of spirit, more emptiness and unhappiness than can be imagined. His words, uttered coldly and flatly, with his back turned to her, she would never forget, they repeated endlessly through the night ---"There is nothing here for me........" She had her answer -- he did not even desire her friendship.
Elizabeth wept a great while, then wept no more, determined to live the rest of her life in the best way she could. She would have to think now like dear Charlotte -- a marriage was simply an opportunity to obtain a respectable establishment -- the only option open to her. All thoughts of love were banished. She did love, she would always love. That love would never come to anything and must be relegated to the depths of her heart, to be nurtured and cherished in complete secrecy.
Peaceful slumber avoided Mr. Bennet longest of all. Assailed as he was by doubt, uncertainty and pangs of conscience, even his dreams were haunted by visions of duels and death.
The situation at Netherfield was only marginally better. Louisa Hurst fussed, fretted and fumed how very ill-used she was, by her husband for denying her the pleasure of a gossip with Caroline, and with Caroline for so readily complying with him.
Mr. Hurst remained awake some time trying to make sense of the situation. That Caroline was involved he had no doubt, but he could not puzzle out exactly how.
Mr. Bingley divided his attentions between the very great pleasure of leaving his future mother-in-law behind on the morrow, sweet loving thoughts of his Jane and pangs of regret and helplessness for his friend. He resolved to speak with Darcy once again about joining them in London.
Georgiana slept fitfully, haunted by the hollow, vacant despair she had seen in her brother's eyes. She knew not what to do.
Mr. Darcy slept not at all. He sat gazing absently out the window into the darkness, ignoring the haggard, beaten stranger reflected in the glass. He stared unseeing, willing the sun to rise.
Caroline alone slumbered peacefully, not bothered by doubt, uncertainty or pangs of conscience. Her dreams were blessed with visions of jewels and riches.
At long last morning arrived, and not knowing what else to do, the occupants of Netherfield gathered in the breakfast room. They were a very dull, spiritless group, with scarcely a cheerful look among them.
Mr. Bingley planned on sending a messenger to Longbourn to ascertain Elizabeth's condition, and to determine whether they would be leaving for London that day. Mr. Darcy had listened politely and patiently to Bingley's arguments in favour of his being of the party. In reply, he merely turned and faced the window, unable to do more than stare ahead aimlessly.
Caroline rejoiced that Mr. Darcy would not be travelling to London, it only remained for her to arrange an invitation to Pemberley. It was with this in mind that she began the conversation during breakfast. "How very suddenly you quitted Longbourn yesterday evening Mr. Darcy. I do hope that neither you nor Georgiana were unwell?"
Mr. Bingley ran his hand over his face in frustration, knowing that nothing short of a good sharp kick would stop Caroline once she got an idea in her head. Unfortunately he was seated at too great a distance from her to be able to effect this remedy. He had to be content with glaring pointedly at her, which she very handily ignored.
At Caroline's comment, Georgiana felt her stomach drop. She glanced at her brother who appeared to be handling the matter with great equanimity. This gave her the determination to hide the very real distress she was feeling. As much as she had been blossoming in Elizabeth's presence the previous evening, that was how much she had retreated back into her shell. She was exceedingly quiet and shy and made no effort to interact with the company.
Mr. Darcy deliberately put down his coffee cup and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin before delivering his reply. "As you can see Miss Bingley, Georgiana is well, apart from a natural fatigue after a late night. As for myself, I am in one piece am I not?" 'Whole,' he thought, 'except for my heart.'
Caroline was undaunted. "How unfortunate for Georgiana to miss this trip to London, Mr. Darcy. We had some very interesting schemes in mind. Perhaps you would not object to having her accompany us?"
Mr. Darcy could read the panic in his sister's expression, and was selfish enough in any case to desire what comfort her presence could give him. "I am afraid that will not be possible. Georgiana is wanted at home as much as I want my home." He was rewarded with a grateful glance and half a smile.
"Oh, but she will be so lonely at Pemberley with none but yourself to amuse her. What a shame that she does not have a companion to distract her." A look of happy surprise settled on her features. "I have the perfect solution. I could accompany you to Pemberley. I would have much greater pleasure in Georgiana's company than in any scheme in London." Caroline fairly clapped her hands with delight.
Once again Georgiana's countenance helped Mr. Darcy to reply with accordance to his own wishes. "Miss Bingley, that is a very kind offer, but for the moment I am afraid we must decline your generosity."
Caroline's smile was frozen in place. Acute disappointment rendered her speechless. She was only able to nod her acceptance of Mr. Darcy's pronouncement. As her mind tumbled and twirled in agitation and embarrassment, and she attempted to think of something pertinent to say, Louisa filled the silence.
"Caroline! Surely you jest! How could you think of exchanging one sojourn in the country for another! I am aghast at the thought! I have been counting on your company for we have been away from the shops and the society for long enough already. Georgiana will have her family to amuse her, and I must have mine about me as well." This was said with not a little petulance. Louisa was still very put out that she had not had the opportunity to glean Caroline's good information from last night.
Mr. Hurst sighed heavily and rolled his eyes at Mr. Bingley and delivered a speech worthy of Mr. Bennet. "Shops! Society! I begin to prefer the quiet of a country life myself. At least there one hears more of sporting pursuits and less of lace and finery!"
At that moment a servant burst into the room in some agitation. He bowed and scraped, and apologised profusely for the intrusion but begged indulgence as he had an important letter to deliver from Longbourn. Mr. Bingley stood, confused and a little worried. "Are you Mr. Darcy sir?" enquired the servant. Mr. Bingley indicated the gentleman in question with a wave of his hand, and resumed his seat.
Mr. Darcy took the letter tentatively. He turned it over and over and examined the seal. He scrutinised the direction as though to determine the sender. All eyes were upon him. After a few moments he was urged strenuously by Mr. Bingley and gently by Georgiana to open it. He looked up at them helplessly, instinctively dreading what might be written within. Mr. Hurst fairly slammed down his water goblet, "Good God man, get on with it!"
At that, Mr. Darcy broke the seal and read the letter. The silence of the room was broken by the ugly scrape of his chair on the floor as he hastily stood up. He read the letter again, gasping for breath, hands visibly shaking. He ran from the room.
Exclamations of surprise erupted from all the others. Georgiana was quite overcome. Caroline and Louisa tittered and squealed their amazement. Mr. Hurst looked around in wonder and murmured , "How very singular...."
Mr. Bingley went after his friend. Mr. Darcy was halfway to the stables, he had not even stopped to put on his cloak. Mr. Bingley called after him, "Darcy, wait! What are you about? What ever is going on? Will you not tell me that I may do something to relieve you? DARCY!!!!!"
Mr. Darcy stopped in his tracks. He turned to regard Bingley, held out his hands to clasp Bingley's and groaned "My life is over!" He handed over the infamous letter and spun around to continue on his mission. He hurriedly saddled a horse himself, to the astonishment of the groom and before Mr. Bingley could comment had mounted and ridden off at great speed in the direction of Longbourn.
Mr. Bingley shook his head as though to order his jumbled thoughts. He suddenly recollected the letter and immediately read it.
Longbourn November 4, 18--Mr. Darcy, I beg your indulgence. My daughter Elizabeth had an unfortunate accident last evening, and although we were assured she was well, she has taken a turn for the worse during the night. The apothecary has determined there has been some sort of internal injury and, in short, Elizabeth is bleeding to death.
She has been calling for you for many hours and I have presumed to write to you at first light to entreat you to come to her. Please sir, put aside any resentments and recriminations, however just, and come to us, to make my daughter's last hours happy ones.
Sincerely, Thomas Bennet.
Mr. Bingley let out a strangled cry at the contents of Mr. Darcy's letter. Horrified as he was, he had more presence of mind than his friend and dashed back to the house to fetch a cloak before returning to the stables to follow Mr. Darcy's example.
Mr. Darcy rode across the countryside with more speed than he had ever ridden, even in the reckless days of his youth. The icy wind bit at his fingers, the dampness of the morning mist soaked through his skin. He noticed nothing, felt nothing, thought only dark thoughts, frantic with worry and grief.
Arriving at Longbourn in very short order, he dismounted his frothy steed before it even came to a full stop, heedless of his own life and limb in his concern for Elizabeth. He was a sorry sight, wet to the skin, clothing dishevelled, hair rumpled, blue with cold, eyes wild with fear.
He burst into the house without ceremony, expecting to meet a servant in the hall, but the air was heavy with silence. He wanted to call out, but found he could not. It felt to him as though his heart had risen in protest and lodged itself in his throat.
He stood in panic for only seconds before the library door opened and Mr. Bennet emerged. Mr. Darcy, still mute, searched Mr. Bennet's face for information. The two men stood for a moment observing each other. The older man had rumpled clothing and was very pale with dark circles beneath his eyes. He had clearly passed a very bad night.
He could no longer look Mr. Darcy in the eye. " She..... is.....in here," he gestured to the library. "Forgive me....." Mr. Bennet turned away entirely, "I am so very sorry...." he croaked.
Mr. Darcy could only assume the worst, that Elizabeth had succumbed, or perhaps was very near death at this moment. This thought galvanised him into action and he rushed into the library, expecting to see he knew not what. He encountered a scene that nearly drove him from his senses. Elizabeth, his Elizabeth was there, sitting very composed on the divan just opposite the window.
The noise of his entrance and the loud groan he inadvertently uttered, alerted Elizabeth to his presence. Her hands fluttered up to the tiny ruby cross she customarily wore on a chain, and she turned her head slowly, breathless with surprise, and looked upon him standing there in a daze.
Time stood still for both of them as they gazed upon each other, speaking volumes with their eyes. The words both longed to say and hear stayed locked within, for neither of them were capable of speech. Such agitation as they had suffered for weeks and months could not be overcome in an instant.
Mr. Darcy fairly stumbled across the room and stood before Elizabeth. She blushed profusely, and looked down, unable to bear his regard any longer. Suddenly something within him gave way and he knelt before her and buried his face in the folds of her dress.
Elizabeth from the first moment of his arrival had been totally convinced that she was suffering from some sort of wonderful delusion. The warmth she saw in his eyes, his very presence was so exactly what she desired she could not help but think it was some sort of fantastic dream. She began to doubt this when she felt the weight of his head on her lap. She reached down and touched his dark curls in a tentative manner. She felt its soft silkiness and unable to help herself she entangled her hands in his hair, glorying in its feel. All at once she became aware that this was no dream. Her hands flew away and she cried out, "Mr. Darcy! What ever are you doing?" She felt on the verge of hysteria, bitterly disappointed that she had come to her senses. He did not move so she repeated herself, "MR. DARCY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
Mr. Darcy looked up at her adoringly and answered, "I am thanking God on my knees that you are still alive."
Elizabeth looked at him as if seeing his dishevelled condition for the first time. "I.....Mr. Darcy,.....I do not understand.....Mr. Darcy are you quite well?"
This was clearly not the response he had been hoping for. The look of delight that had dawned in his eyes dimmed. He grew serious, his brow furrowed and his mouth grew slack with shock. He strove to find the words to express himself. " I....you....your father's letter.....," he fairly stuttered, "....it said....you were going to die...."
Elizabeth's gasp focused his attention upon her. She had turned crimson and then covered her face with her hands. He stood suddenly and stepped away from her. 'Dear Lord,' she thought, 'is there anything in the world that can make up for such misery! My father wrote Mr. Darcy to say I was dying? He did not come here on his own. Oh, what will he think now? If there was any vestige of hope it is all over now......"
Mr. Darcy looked at Elizabeth with quiet longing. He could see her discomfort and embarrassment. 'Dear Lord,' he thought, 'is there no way I can make her love me? It must be true, she is pained by my very presence. I must leave at once, I cannot be the cause of so much misery!' He wished fervently to be able to leave without further comment but could not. "Elizabeth....Miss Bennet. I am afraid we have both of us been very much imposed upon. I am sorry. I will leave you now." He walked sadly toward the door.
Elizabeth rose on unsteady legs intending to cry out and beg him to stay. She regarded his straight back and dignified figure and lost all courage, she was overcome by doubt and remained silent, willing this whole ludicrous affair to be over at once so that she may once again begin to know some peace of mind.
Mr. Darcy moved briskly, wanting only to be away. As he very nearly gained his object he was prevented from leaving by the presence of a man in the doorway. Mr. Darcy gaped in confusion and uttered the only thing that came to his mind, "What?"
The elegant figure of Mr. Hurst advanced a step further into the room. "You are not leaving so soon Mr. Darcy?"
Neither Mr. Darcy nor Elizabeth could comprehend any reason why such a man would appear at such a moment. They stared at him, dumbfounded.
"I can see that you are both surprised." At that very moment, Mr. Hurst was the only one capable of speech, and so he made a good one. "You must feel this is all so very strange. I entreat you not to place any blame on Mr. Bennet for it is all my doing. Anyone with eyes and a heart can see that the two of you are desperately in love, made for each other, two hearts that beat as one...." He spoke very matter-of-factly, with a pleasant, amused twinkle in his eye. "Cowardice, timidity, insecurity, fear, perhaps even a little stupidity have kept you apart. I, for one, am thoroughly fatigued with all the mooning about that has been going on. I will brook no opposition in this matter. You, neither of you, will leave this room until everything has been resolved to my satisfaction!" He promptly spun on his heels and left the library, closing the heavy wooden door with a resounding thud and locking the door with éclat.
For some minutes Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth watched the door, unable to credit their senses. They could not believe the extraordinary event that had just taken place. Mr. Darcy for one had never heard so many rational words uttered by Mr. Hurst in their entire acquaintance.
Mr. Darcy began to bluster and rant, "This is insupportable! How could a gentleman behave in such a manner? What does he think he is doing? It is unpardonable!" He was still convinced that Elizabeth did not desire any of this and was very much worried how this would affect her.
Elizabeth had not spoken a word nor moved a muscle for some time. Mr. Darcy's outrage persuaded her, if indeed any further persuasion was needed, that he felt nothing for her and his first object was to be away from her company. She lowered herself back to her seat and began to silently weep.
Mr. Darcy had been altogether too uncomfortable to even hazard a glance at Elizabeth. He heard a tiny sob and stopped his flow of words in mid rant. Fresh stabs of pain shot through his being. "Miss Bennet, Elizabeth!" He rushed to her side. "Please, please, do anything but cry! I cannot bear your tears. Your anger, your recriminations, your bad opinion, they are nothing in comparison to the pain your tears cause me. "
These words caused Elizabeth to begin to howl in earnest, these were not sweet ladylike drops, rather a deluge, a veritable flood. Mr. Darcy knelt once more before her, took her hands and kissed them again and again, desperate to comfort her. He held them to his face that she may feel his cheeks now wet with his own tears.
Their tears stopped flowing as Elizabeth wiped Mr. Darcy's wet face with delicate caresses. They looked in each others eyes and suddenly the truth came upon them both. Deep brown eyes, soft as a puppy's stared into serious, vulnerable ones.
Mr. Darcy reached into his breast pocket and took out a crisp handkerchief of delicate white lace. "Do you recognise this? It is yours. It is the one you had crumpled in your hand on that horrible morning in Lambton. I could not resist taking it. It was a memento, for I was not sure I would ever work up the courage another time....I was going to ask for your hand and your love that morning." He continued in a voice made husky with emotion. "Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, I have not had the courage to face your rejection. I look into your eyes and upon your tear stained face and I have hope again. I apologize with all that I am for not being a better man, and I ask you.....no.... I beg you..... to help me become a better one. There are no words sufficient to describe to you my regard, but if you will allow me, I will strive for all my life to show with my actions what I cannot with words. I love you Elizabeth Bennet and ask you to share my life, to be my life."
"Mr. Darcy! I am no better with words than you are, but I may safely say that my regard for you is as tender as yours for me. You are indeed the only man I could ever love, without you I would have had a pitiful existence indeed, for I would have remained half a person.... and if you will not think me too forward, I would like to show you my answer with actions that I cannot give satisfactorily with words."
Mr. Darcy could not mistake her meaning and with very great pleasure sealed their love with a soft tentative kiss, which deepened with passion and ferocity until they had to pull away or be lost entirely.
Mr. Darcy was the first to break the bemused silence which had settled upon them. "I am rather vexed to be giving Mr. Hurst his own way in this, what he did to us is unforgivable."
Elizabeth smiled and reached out to touch his dimpled chin, surprised at herself. "I am perfectly happy to be giving Mr. Hurst his own way, and I must say that I love him for what he has done. Who knows how our lives might have been but for his interference." Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she noticed the figures at the window. There stood Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bennet wreathed in smiles. "I wonder when they will let us out?"
Mr. Darcy strode to the window and drew the curtains. "Not just yet I hope, " he replied.