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Chapter 16
The day prior to the wedding was so full with final preparations that, apart from a visit to Jane by her intended, the Netherfield and Longbourn parties had no time for interaction, which both pleased and frustrated Darcy no end. Knowing that he could not have Elizabeth did nothing to quell his desire to see her and be in her company. It was taking all of his will power to retain some distance from her.
Retain some distance? Darcy thought... who was he trying to fool - it may have been his aim, but he'd failed abysmally . He knew how he should act, and understood the standards he needed to maintain, for his own sake, and for the sake of his family, but somehow all his best resolution went out the window when Elizabeth was near by.
The mixture of longing and self reproach he felt on recalling the previous evening's time together, was palpable. He tried to justify the attention he'd given her by arguing it had been initiated by Elizabeth herself... and that therefore she couldn't possibly construe the circumstance as any indication that he could have intentions toward her - particularly after he'd spent most of the gathering evading her company...
In all honesty however, he could not hold to the comfort of such an inadequate justification, and switched tack to tell himself that it was only polite and appropriate for him to show friendship to a woman who was soon to be his best friend's sister. This explanation sat with him far better than the other, particularly as it would give him reason spend more time in her company at the wedding... and given that he was standing up for Bingley, and that Elizabeth was maid of honour for Jane, it could hardly be avoided anyway...
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Elizabeth had been too occupied on the day before the wedding to really think through Darcy's behaviour, and after the day's busy activity she'd quickly fallen into an exhausted sleep, despite trying to stay awake to make some sense of the matter. She was still inclined to believe that he would not allow himself to entertain serious intentions toward her, but occasionally she could sense something in his manner or words which made her wonder otherwise. It was unfair! Why did she have to find him so attractive when he was out of reach? Why did he have make her like him if he didn't want to follow through?
She had time to wonder over the matter as she went about her personal preparations on the morning of the wedding, and began to feel a rising vexation at the idea he might be trifling with her. If he didn't want to act on his attraction - fine - she could accept that, but she could not accept him avoiding her one minute, and encouraging her the next! The man had to make up his mind.
She then began to question her own behaviour since his return to Hertfordshire - her leaving Netherfield as soon as he arrived, avoiding engagements where he might be present, running from his company during dinner the other night - why should she be behaving in that manner? Why should she feel self conscious in his presence when she had not acted at all inappropriately? It wasn't her fault the man couldn't make up his mind, and it wasn't her role to make things easy for him! Let him hide from her if he wished - but for her there would be no more running away. Let him at least know that which he was missing!
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Elizabeth felt very satisfied as Sarah put the final touches to her hair. It was done in a soft style which had always suited her, and had been enhanced by Sarah's weaving small ivory ribbon flowers throughout. Elizabeth smiled as her maid made the time to loosen a few more curls to frame her face, and took the daring measure of applying a very light rouge to Elizabeth's cheeks and lips, taking care to ensure it did not look unnatural.
Both Elizabeth and Sarah appreciated the time they had to themselves to prepare for the wedding - all the fuss was taking place in Jane's room, with Lydia constantly interrupting, vying for attention. On discerning her mother's voice though, again in the height of irritation, Elizabeth felt she must forgo the luxury of her own space and venture out to rescue Jane. She stood as Sarah finished fastening her gown, and took a moment to examine herself before leaving the room.
The overall effect of the new gown, and the care which Sarah had taken preparing her, surprised even Elizabeth as she looked in the glass. The gown was remarkably fine, in a rich cream silk. Her mother certainly didn't cut any corners on such an occasion. The dressmaker had fitted the gown beautifully, and given a slight french flavour in it's daring enhancement of her figure through its cut and style. It was almost the same as the one Jane was to wear, but with less lace and ribbon, and she actually thought the simplicity of it suited her own taste better. The girl who smiled back at her from the mirror looked confident and beautiful - not just pretty, but beautiful - she would not deny it, and she shot a grin back at Sarah, thanking her once again as she left the room.
Jane sat back in relief as Elizabeth managed to convince their mother that she needed to attend to her own preparation, and sent Lydia away with Sarah to see to her final needs and complaints. Rebekah, who was attempting to finish the bride's hair, looked even more relieved than Jane herself. She had tried to attend to Mrs Bennet's instructions, but this had led to Jane looking more like a flower arrangement than a bride, and she was pleased to be able to pull out the pins and foliage to start again. Elizabeth looked at her sister in admiration as Rebekah expertly pinned Jane's hair into a simple and flattering style, and finished it with ribbon and a few delicate hot-house flowers. She was truly a most beautiful woman, and the glow her countenance had taken on an anticipation of this day's events had given it an added loveliness. This day would give a happiness which Jane truly deserved.
Given the dramas of the morning, it was remarkable that the Bride made it to the church not more than 15 minutes late. Fortunately Bingley, full of restless anticipation, was more impatient than nervous over Jane's delayed arrival, and after having spent almost half an hour pacing in the vestry, he felt a jolt of happiness on hearing the general hubbub in the church which indicated the bridal party had arrived.
Darcy stood up to join his friend at the front of the sanctuary. He had no need to calm his friend with words of encouragement or reassurance, as Bingley knew with a certainty that what he was doing this day was right. It conspired that Darcy was the one who could have done with some calming words as, with all his thoughts centred on the fact this was Bingley's wedding, he'd forgotten that it Elizabeth would enter the church first. On looking up, expecting to see Jane, his eyes had instead found her sister, and she had taken his breath away. He had long thought her beautiful, but today she was simply stunning. He followed her light and graceful progress down the aisle, envying anyone at whom she smiled, not knowing if he more hoped or feared she might turn that look to him, until that very circumstance made his heart lurch within him. As their eyes met she shot him a delightful grin, which he returned with a smile of his own, and he held his gaze even when all other attention, even Elizabeth's, became focussed on the exquisitely lovely bride who had just entered on her proud, but atypically solemn, father's arm.
His acute awareness of Elizabeth made it difficult for Darcy to maintain a focus on all being said by the minister, until the weight of the vows cut through the fog; words like love... honour... comfort... caught in his mind as he pondered to whom he could ever make such promises. They were not things that could be taken lightly by any means. They were serious indeed. He thought over the word honour and what it really entailed... the esteem and mutual respect it required, and he again looked at the woman across the aisle... he had liked women before, possibly even loved them after a fashion, but his feelings for Elizabeth were the closest that had ever come to a love coupled with honour...
Given his distraction it was only through good fortune he caught the words which required him to hand the ring to the minister...
"With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship..." he heard Bingley's voice as though distant.
With my body I thee worship... now that would not be difficult, he thought to himself as his gaze shifted yet again to Elizabeth, that would hardly require any effort.
"...and with all my worldly goods I thee endow," he heard Bingley continue. Now there was the rub... the inequity of the match... the difference in what could be brought to the marriage. Could there be due honour in a case of such disparity? Could the divide in their relative social and financial positions, really be of little consequence?
"Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder..." pronounced the minister with an authority that resounded in Darcy's head... no, it was not a matter to be entered lightly... it was binding... irrevocable... it was the decision of a lifetime...
It was with a great effort that Darcy forced himself to attend to the sermon on 1 Corinthians 13 and the nature of love, and as the minister spoke of love's humility, its patience, and its belief & hope in others, he could not help but smile at how this encapsulated the essence of character of both Bingley and Jane, and he knew again just how right they were for each other.
Before he could credit it, the service was over and he had the delightful duty of offering his arm to Elizabeth and enjoying her closeness as they followed the newly wed couple down the aisle. Elizabeth, was glad of his support, as the service had touched her deeply, and she was feeling a little overwhelmed at the strength of emotions it had created within her.
As they gained the outside Elizabeth broke from Darcy to embrace and congratulate her sister as Darcy shook hands with his friend, soon though, they were crowded by many other well-wishers, and both stepped back from the centre of activity. Though the stood close by each other neither spoke, but they seemed not to notice the silence as they lost themselves in their own worlds trying to decipher and deal with feelings within them.
Darcy was first to be pulled back to the real world by the approach of Captain Whitehouse, an acquaintance of both himself and Bingley, and one of their few friends who had taken to time to travel from London for such an inauspicious wedding. Darcy greeted him with a smile, which soon turned to a look of concern after discerning that Whitehouse was far more interested in an introduction to Miss Bennet than in a conversation with himself.
He made the introduction with as much grace as he could muster, but stood by almost protectively, as the captain successfully entered into entertaining small talk with Elizabeth. Not for the first time Darcy wished he had the gift of easy conversation. He found reason to feel more irked still, upon the approach of Mr Carlisle, the eldest son of Sir Thomas Carlisle, and heir to a very healthy Estate in Devonshire. Mr Carlisle seemed to have the same interest in meeting Elizabeth as Captain Whitehouse had shown, and Darcy remembered, almost with an alarm, Mrs Bennet's comments about how Jane's match would throw the girls into the way of other rich men. He was very happy indeed when Georgiana joined them, diluting the situation, and taking Elizabeth's attention from the men to herself.
I was with pleasure he noticed the gathering begin to disperse, giving him the excuse to lead Elizabeth away and hand her up into the small open carriage they were to share on the way to the wedding breakfast. Though relieved that he finally had Elizabeth to himself, his state could hardly be described as 'at ease', because every nerve in his body seemed to be experiencing a heightened awareness of the woman sitting so close by his side.
"You really do look very beautiful today," Darcy said, almost without thought, and was surprised that a compliment, which would normally sound laboured from his lips, could come out so naturally.
A small "thank you," was all he received in a slightly self-conscious manner, before Elizabeth quickly turned the focus of the conversation to Jane and the wedding, speaking of how Jane had, almost impossibly, looked lovelier than ever, and of how moving she'd found the ceremony. Darcy was simply willing to listen, not wanting to admit he had hardly seen Jane, and that his mind had wandered dreadfully during the ceremony... in fact, his mind was wandering dreadfully right at the point, and though Longbourn was only a few minutes away he was pondering the propriety of perhaps putting an arm around Elizabeth to shield her from the chill of the February day. Mrs Bennet's choice of transport may have been pretty, but it certainly wasn't practical... and he was sure that Bingley would not be allowing Jane to suffer from the cold... but that thought only made him aware of how very different Bingley's circumstance now was, and he felt a stab of jealousy for his friend's situation.
When they reached the house though, Darcy was able to take Elizabeth's hand as he handed her down from the carriage, and continued to hold it until he tucked it into the crook of his arm in order to escort her into the house after Bingley and Jane.
Elizabeth could not be displeased with such attention, and began to relax into his company, telling herself that any potential for a deeper relationship was in his hands now, not hers. Reasoning it was pointless to be anxious over a situation where she had little power to change things, she would choose to enjoy the day without trying to over-examine every circumstance, and she would wait for whatever the morrow might bring. Despite such resolution she was unable to help being a little perplexed in that, though continued at her side, he said very little.
There was even one point where she had made as if to leave him in order to speak with her Aunt and Uncle, when he had gone as far as possessively placing his own free hand over her own, which rested so lightly on his arm, and instead of letting her go, had walked over with her to her relations. I was at this time that Elizabeth began to feel a little ill at ease, as Darcy went from saying very little, to contributing nothing at all to the conversation, and though she was enjoying the Gardiners' company herself, she wished that he could show more of his relaxed self and not retreat behind his impenetrably serious facade.
The gathering was soon called to dine, and Darcy could not have found himself more happily situated than where he was, seated between Elizabeth and Georgiana, and he pulled himself enough from his introspections to attend to, and occasionally forward, the conversation between the two girls.
The wedding breakfast progressed beautifully, without any major embarrassing displays from the mother or younger sisters... or at least note that Darcy was attentive enough to notice, and he felt a real loss upon Elizabeth finally excusing herself to attend Jane upstairs, in her final preparations to depart on her wedding journey with her new husband.
As soon as Miss Bingley, who had been very put out to find herself seated for the meal beside Mr & Mrs Bennet, saw the opening beside Darcy, she moved with as much haste as might not appear unseemly, to occupy the place at his side, subtly lamenting the company, the seating, the deficiency of the wedding dress, the inopportune match, and being far less subtle in her opinion of Elizabeth Bennet as Maid of Honour. Darcy did not respond at all, and Georgiana, offended on her new friend's behalf, actually exerted herself to attempt to turn the subject by asking about the London season. Shooting his sister a grin Darcy took the opportunity to seek instead the company of Whitehouse and Carlisle, and without Elizabeth there to distract them, they settled into easy conversation which, of course, eventually turned to the wedding.
"There's no question that Bingley has been truly smitten this time," Carlisle commented. "She's certainly a beautiful woman and she seems very pleasant, but you've known her longer Darcy. Is she as good as she appears, or does she have some of her mother in her?"
"I'm happy to say I've never seen any of her mother in her," Darcy laughed in reply.
"Her father seems an intelligent and respectable man," Whitehouse put in. "It must have been a weak moment which trapped him."
"Looking at the daughters I can't really blame him," Carlisle offered. "They are a remarkably handsome family. Even the mother is still quite an attractive woman, particularly for a woman in her forties... until she opens her mouth that is."
"I'm pleased to see the new Mrs Bingley is such an agreeable woman," Whitehouse nodded. "I must admit I was surprised at him marrying so far beneath the level he might have achieved. I'm sure he could have easily commanded the attention of far more eligible women... In fact I've thought the only reason he hasn't married previously, was that you were saving him for your sister Darcy."
Darcy, feeling a little awkward in there possibly being some truth in Whitehouse's assumption, tried to turn the subject by commenting on how well Jane and Bingley seemed suited, only to have Carlisle pick up where Whitehouse had left off.
"As nice as the girl seems though, she is very fortunate indeed in marrying a man of Bingley's consequence. Her father may be a gentleman, but I believe the estate is entailed away from the female line, and that very little money has been settled upon the girls... which is a shame, because at least one other of them seems very nice indeed..." mused Carlisle, his eyes moving to the entry way of the room, where Elizabeth now stood upon rejoining the party.
"...and too little cannot be said of the mother's connections," Whitehouse added, also watching Elizabeth before becoming distracted by Lydia pushing past giggling, closely followed by Kitty. "We were seated by her sister earlier, and a more vulgar woman it would be hard to imagine."
The guests soon began moving outside to farewell the newly married couple, but Darcy did not take this opportunity to seek Elizabeth's company. He needed space. He needed to think. He needed to remove himself from Hertfordshire and really consider what it would be right to do... it was not a matter to be taken lightly...
Georgiana noticed his sullen lack of spirits as, after what seemed only a cursory goodbye, they made their way back to London. She wished her brother could have accepted Mr Bingley's kind offer for them to remain at Netherfield until he and Jane returned, but he had seemed eager to get away.
Darcy sat wondering whether his leaving could be counted as cowardice, but he reasoned that he had always planned to return to London straight after the wedding and added, quite honestly, that it would not do for Georgiana to stay longer and chance running across Wickham.
He half smiled as it occurred to him that he was almost looking forward to his annual duty visit to Kent in only three weeks time, as any distraction at all, anything that might clear his mind of Elizabeth, would be gratefully welcomed by a man in his dilemma, and if anyone could turn ones thoughts from an inappropriate marriage... in fact, from any marriage at all... it would be his Aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Chapter 17
WITH no more great events in the Longbourn family, and life otherwise diversified by little beyond the walks to Meryton, sometimes dirty and sometimes cold, did the rest of February pass away. March was to take Elizabeth to Hunsford on a visit to Charlotte. She had not at first thought very seriously of going thither; but her friend, she soon found, was depending on the plan, and she gradually learned to consider it herself with greater pleasure as well as greater certainty. Absence had increased her desire of seeing Charlotte again, and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins. There was novelty in the scheme; and as, with such a mother and such uncompanionable sisters, home could not be faultless, a little change was not unwelcome for its own sake. She would hardly let herself admit that it might also be a distraction from the disappointment which still lingered over Mr Darcy's second hasty departure from Hertfordshire. She should have learned the first time not to let even the beginnings of any expectations arise where he was concerned.
The journey would moreover give her a peep at Jane and Bingley who were now staying in London for a few weeks before their return to Netherfield; and, in short, as the time drew near, she would have been very sorry for any delay. Every thing, however, went on smoothly, and was finally settled according to Charlotte's first sketch. She was to accompany Sir William and his second daughter. The improvement of spending a night in London was added in time, and the plan became perfect as plan could be.
The only pain was in leaving her father, who would certainly miss her, and who, when it came to the point, so little liked her going that he told her to write to him, and almost promised to answer her letter.
The stop over in London proved pure delight, and was even improved as Jane had contrived that a visit by the Gardiners also co-inside with the arrival of Elizabeth and her travelling companions. Elizabeth could not help but rejoice at how glowingly happy the newly weds appeared, and she laughed aloud at how many times they seemed to act as one in a comment, an offer, or an opinion. That Bingley simply revelled in his role as Jane's husband was more than obvious as he teasingly ignored her embarrassed entreaties to desist from triumphing over her reception amongst his peers as a 'true beauty', and his own certain discernment of envy in practically every male of his acquaintance. Even though Jane counted his view as biased she could not help but feel a thrill at being so thought of by her husband. Everything in the meeting was joy, and the day passed most pleasantly away; the morning in bustle and shopping, and the evening at one of the theatres.
Elizabeth then contrived to sit by her aunt. Their first subject was her sister; and the deserved happiness of so a fitting match, but Mrs Gardiner was nothing if not discerning, and sensing a underlying longing in Elizabeth's words she vaguely broached the subject of Mr Darcy's apparent friendship with her niece. Elizabeth's reply that 'Mr Darcy might appear friendly when he chose, but that the sincerity of such appearance could not be trusted,' came out with a strength that surprised herself as well as her Aunt.
``Oh, Lizzy, I should be sorry, you know, to think ill of a young man who has lived so long in Derbyshire.''
``I'm sorry," Lizzy gave her Aunt an embarrassed smile. "It's just that at the moment I have a very poor opinion of young men who live in Derbyshire...thank Heaven that I am going to-morrow where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has neither manner nor sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing, after all.''
``Take care, Lizzy; that speech savours strongly of disappointment.''
Before they were separated by the conclusion of the play, she had the unexpected happiness of an invitation to accompany her uncle and aunt in a tour of pleasure which they proposed taking in the summer.
``We have not quite determined how far it shall carry us,'' said Mrs. Gardiner, ``but perhaps to the Lakes.''
No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, and her acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful.
``My dear, dear aunt,'' she rapturously cried, ``what delight! what felicity! You give me fresh life and vigour. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are men to rocks and mountains? Oh! what hours of transport we shall spend! And when we do return, it shall not be like other travellers, without being able to give one accurate idea of any thing. We will know where we have gone -- we will recollect what we have seen. Lakes, mountains, and rivers shall not be jumbled together in our imaginations; nor, when we attempt to describe any particular scene, will we begin quarrelling about its relative situation. Let our first effusions be less insupportable than those of the generality of travellers.''
Her Aunt had to laugh, glad that Elizabeth's spirits were not of a nature to be long repressed.
This was further demonstrated on the morrow as Elizabeth, though feeling the tug of a another farewell to Jane, anticipated the day's journey as new and interesting; and her spirits were in a state for enjoyment, for she had seen her sister looking so well and happy as a married woman, and the prospect of her northern tour was a constant source of delight.
When they left the high-road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye was in search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to bring it in view. The palings of Rosings Park was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth smiled at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants, repressing only a small stab of concern as she recalled Mr Wickham's words about Darcy being intended for his cousin.
At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden sloping to the road, the house standing in it, the green pales and the laurel hedge, everything declared that they were arriving. Mr. Collins and Charlotte appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at a small gate, which led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of the whole party. In a moment they were all out of the chaise, rejoicing at the sight of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with coming, when she found herself so affectionately received.
She saw instantly that her cousin's manners were not altered by his marriage; his formal civility was just what it had been, and he detained her some minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his enquiries after all her family. They were then, with no other delay than his pointing out the neatness of the entrance, taken into the house; and as soon as they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time with ostentatious formality to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife's offers of refreshment.
Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and she could not help fancying that in displaying the good proportion of the room, its aspect and its furniture, he addressed himself particularly to her, as if wishing to make her feel what she had lost in refusing him. But though every thing seemed neat and comfortable, she was not able to gratify him by any sigh of repentance.
The first fortnight of her stay in Kent passed away comfortably enough; Charlotte had arranged her domestic life very well indeed, and Elizabeth was surprised at how little time was actively spent in the company of her husband. On top of this there were half hours of pleasant conversation with Charlotte, and the weather was so fine for the time of year, that she had often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favourite walk, and where she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady Catherine, was along the open grove which edged that side of the park, where there was a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but herself, and where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine's curiosity.
Lady Catherine she had found to be just as she had suspected; she was a woman who felt very highly of herself and of her own opinions, and Elizabeth had quickly discovered she had no compunction in officious interference in matters, whether great or small, that should have been of no concern to her.
Lady Catherine's attentions though, became insignificant as a greater cause for disquiet arose in Elizabeth. She had heard, soon after her arrival, that Mr. Darcy was expected there in the course of a few weeks and frankly, given that she still felt somewhat cross at his inconsistent treatment of her in Hertfordshire, there were not many of her acquaintance whom she would not have preferred. Her concerns were further exacerbated by wondering what his behaviour would be toward to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined by Lady Catherine; who talked of his coming with the greatest satisfaction and spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration. She seemed almost angry to find that he had already been frequently seen by Miss Lucas and herself.
Elizabeth insisted to herself she did not care if Darcy was engaged to Miss De Bourgh and even entertained the thought - somewhat maliciously - that it would be very a very fitting for him to marry Anne, who was pale and sickly, insignificant in her features, and often rather cross looking.
On the day he was expected, his arrival was soon known at the Parsonage, for Mr. Collins was walking the whole morning within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane, in order to have the earliest assurance of it; and after making his bow as the carriage turned into the park, hurried home with the great intelligence.
On the following morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects. There were two nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for Mr. Darcy had brought with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of his uncle, Lord ----; and to the great surprise of all the party, when Mr. Collins returned, the gentlemen accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them, from her husband's room, crossing the road, and immediately running into the other, told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding,
``I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me.''
Elizabeth, in her confusion that he would call so soon, had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment, before their approach was announced by the door-bell, and shortly afterwards the three gentlemen entered the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way, was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been used to look in the early part of their acquaintance in Hertfordshire, paid his compliments, with his usual reserve, to Mrs. Collins; and whatever might be his feelings towards her friend, met her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth merely curtseyed to him, without saying a word, determined to hold onto her ill-humour toward him.
Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly; but his cousin, after having addressed a slight observation on the house and garden to Mrs. Collins, sat for some time without speaking to any body. It was not that he had no desire to join in the conversation, but rather that he had placed himself in a somewhat awkward position with Colonel Fitzwilliam. Only a few nights previous Darcy, in the freedom that comes after a full dinner and a bottle of good wine, had been unguarded enough to let his cousin learn that he had been quite taken by a woman he'd met that season. Since discovering such a delightful piece of information the Colonel had found hours of sport in conjecturing which lady of the ton had excited such regard, and querying why nothing had come of Darcy's affection.
Darcy at least had the comfort of knowing that his cousin's suspicions had not been excited in regard to Elizabeth, and wanting to keep it that way he sat slightly apart from the conversation, envying the attention that Richard was receiving and wishing that his cousin's easy rapport might fail him this once. At length it became too much for Darcy, and his civility was so far awakened as to enquire of Elizabeth after the health of her family. She answered him in a perfunctory way, but after a moment's pause, added,
``My sister and her husband have been in town these three weeks. Have you had the opportunity to visit with them?''
"Yes," he replied, allowing himself to relax a little, "I was with them only the day before last. They seem to be doing rather well. I must say though, that marriage seems to have made Bingley even more distracted by your sister than before... and I would not have previously thought this possible."
As much as Elizabeth wished to remain cool toward him, she could not but help laugh at such a remark, and followed his answer with her own enquiries after Georgiana. For the remainder of the visit the two spoke with a return of some ease, unfortunately though, the call did not last for many more minutes, as the gentlemen were expected for lunch at Rosings.
This short visit had left Elizabeth in a quandary of emotions. She was cross at Darcy for being so withdrawn at the beginning of the visit, and even more cross at him for being so nice toward the end! She had thought herself steeled against being in his company again, she had assured herself she could be unaffected in his presence, but the whole of the time he was in the room she'd felt his gaze, and every time she'd allowed herself a glance in his direction she'd found those dark eyes regarding her. She had attended to Colonel Fitzwilliam with a determination which was belied by her easy manner, but it had taken little more than a sentence and a smile to break her resolution not to allow herself to feel effected by him, and it would be dishonest to deny that she was still as attracted to Darcy as she ever had been.
Her feelings however, were given a, not inconsequential, dash of reality as the days moved on and Mr Darcy did not take the opportunity to call again. Colonel Fitzwilliam had called at the parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr. Darcy they had only seen at church.
COLONEL Fitzwilliam's manners were very much admired at the parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasure of their engagements at Rosings, Elizabeth especially believed he would be a agreeable diversion, given that Darcy would also be present. It was some days, however, before they received any invitation thither, for while there were visitors in the house they could not be necessary; and it was not till Easter-day, almost a week after the gentlemen's arrival, that they were honoured by such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to come there in the evening. The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they joined the party in Lady Catherine's drawing room. Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room.
Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; any thing was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins's pretty friend had moreover caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained in that room before; and they conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself as well as of Mr. Darcy who was feeling decidedly uncomfortable at the rapport which had so quickly developed between Elizabeth and his cousin. His eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her ladyship after a while shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not scruple to call out,
``What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.''
``We are speaking of music, Madam,'' said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply.
``Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?''
Elizabeth's attention was caught as Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister's proficiency.
``I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,'' said Lady Catherine; ``and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel, if she does not practise a great deal.''
``I assure you, Madam,'' he replied, ``that she does not need such advice. She practises very constantly.''
Elizabeth was glad to hear his firm defence of his sister, and appreciated why he had not brought her to visit with their Aunt. She could well imagine how overwhelming Lady Catherine would be to a sensitive girl like Georgiana.
``So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired, without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well, unless she practises more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the piano forte in Mrs. Jenkinson's room. She would be in nobody's way, you know, in that part of the house.''
Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt's ill breeding, and made no answer, but for the first time that evening he caught Elizabeth's eye and with a wry smile gave her a subtle look of exasperation, which clearly told her what he thought of his Aunt's offer, but Darcy's empathy unsettled her far more than the Aunt's original rudeness had the power to.
When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to the instrument. He drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away from her, and moving with his usual deliberation towards the piano forte, stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance.
He had found the preceding week excruciatingly difficult, knowing that Elizabeth was so close by, but also knowing that he should maintain some distance. His renewed persuasion that a marriage to her was unworthy of the standing and wealth of his family, might not have been enough to keep him away had he not also feared that his cousin might quickly discern that it had been Elizabeth who had made such a great impact upon his heart over the winter months. Simply being in the same room as her still completely unsettled his inner resolution, and played merry hell with all his long held notions of how life should be. He hoped the Fates, who had again sent her in his direction, were appreciating how well their little torture was working.
Elizabeth, still put out by his hot and cold behaviour toward her, saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, not being quite able to resist the opportunity to challenge him, turned to him with an arch smile, and said,
``You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.''
``I shall not say that you are mistaken,'' he replied, ``because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own.''
Elizabeth, though wanting to remain annoyed at him, could not help but laugh before commenting to Colonel Fitzwilliam,
``Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire -- and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too -- for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out, as will shock your relations to hear.''
``I am not afraid of you,'' said he smilingly, quickly lost again in the enjoyment of her quick repartee.
``Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,'' cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. ``I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.''
``You shall hear then -- but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball -- and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry to pain you -- but so it was. He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact.''
``I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.''
``True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball room." She was not about to let him get away with such an excuse. "Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.''
``Perhaps,'' said Darcy, ``I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction, but I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers.''
``Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?'' said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam, not willing to reward Darcy with her full attention simply because he had finally deigned to speak to her. ``Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?''
``I can answer your question,'' said Fitzwilliam, ``without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.''
``I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,'' said Darcy, ``of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.''
``My fingers,'' said Elizabeth, ``do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault -- because I would not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman's of superior execution.''
Darcy smiled, and said, ``You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you, can think any thing wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.''
"Well," Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed, "from what I heard of his 'performance' this season, he seems to be working hard at overcoming his aversion to meeting new people. Apparently, Miss Bennet, he was quite the man about town this winter."
"Is that so?" Elizabeth answered with a raised brow, as Darcy repressed an urge to cut out his cousin's tongue.
At least he was saved the embarrassment of a reply as they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to know what they were talking of. Elizabeth, glad of the interruption, immediately began playing again, frustrated that she seemed incapable of not responding to Mr Darcy's attention, even though it was becoming abundantly clear that he did not care for her in the manner for which she might wish.
Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said to Darcy,
``Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss, if she practised more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn.''
Elizabeth, chastising herself over being unable to force a disinterest, immediately looked at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to his cousin's praise; but neither at that moment nor at any other could she discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss De Bourgh she could not help but derive some reassurance of his indifference toward his cousin.
Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth's performance, mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste. Elizabeth received them with all the forbearance of civility; and at the request of the gentlemen, remained at the instrument till her ladyship's carriage was ready to take them all home, the evening on a whole though, left both Darcy and Elizabeth feeling unsettled and dissatisfied.
Chapter 18
ELIZABETH was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane, while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and under that apprehension was putting away her half-finished letter that she might escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened, and to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only, entered the room.
Though she had to admit some disappointment in the fact, Darcy's inattention during the previous week had done everything within Elizabeth's mind to confirm his disinterest, and the Colonels information about his cousin's open behaviour in London, further bore out his resolve to not treat their friendship with any serious consideration, so Elizabeth's wariness overcame the pleasure she might have otherwise felt upon his visit.
He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologised for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies to be within. They then sat down, and when her enquiries after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence, so unlike the last few times they had been alone together. It was absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, and in this emergency recollecting when she had seen him last in Hertfordshire, and feeling curious to know what he would say on the subject of their hasty departure, she observed,
"Is Georgiana enjoying being in London once more? I had gathered from her comments at the wedding that she was hoping you both might be able to accept my new brother's offer, and stay at Netherfield a little longer."
She found that she was to receive only a short answer to the effect that Georgiana seemed to be happy.
Silence again began to reign, so Elizabeth added a comment on the likelihood of the Bingley's staying in London for longer than they originally had planned.
``I didn't heard him say so; but I can see it as probable that this might be the case. He has numerous friends, and he is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing; there are many very desirous of meeting your sister, and Bingley is just as eager to let them see his lovely bride.''
Elizabeth made no answer but a small smile. She was not about to let him charm her that easily; and having nothing else to say, was now determined to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him.
He took the hint, and soon began with, ``This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford.''
``I believe she did -- and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object.''
``Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife,'' Darcy said before experiencing a slight sensation of awkwardness on recalling that Mr Collins had first solicited for Elizabeth's hand.
If Elizabeth was discomforted it was not over any recollection of Mr Collins proposal, but rather more over discussing the personal matter of marriage with Mr Darcy, but she answered in a reasonably matter of fact manner.
``Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding -- though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her.''
``It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends.''
``An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.''
``And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day's journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance.''
``I should never have considered the distance as one of the advantages of the match,'' stated Elizabeth a little incredulously. ``I should never have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family.''
``It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Any thing beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far.''
As he spoke there was a sort of smile, which Elizabeth wondered if she understood; and she blushed as she answered, trying to ignore the intensity that came again to Darcy's eyes.
``I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expense of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil," she spoke quickly, trying to bring the case back to one of more remote interest. "But that is not the case here. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent journeys -- and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance.''
Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, ``You cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. You would not wish to always be at Longbourn.''
Elizabeth looked surprised. He was confusing her again. What did he think and feel concerning her?
The gentleman, experiencing some change of feeling drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and, glancing over it, said, in a colder voice,
``Are you pleased with Kent?''
A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on both sides calm and concise -- and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte and her sister, just returned from their walk. The tête-à-tête surprised them. Mr. Darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his intruding on Miss Bennet, and after sitting a few minutes longer without saying much to any body, went away.
``What can be the meaning of this!'' said Charlotte, as soon as he was gone. ``My dear Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he would never have called on us in this familiar way.''
Elizabeth - if she were completely honest - would have been happy to see his visit as such an indication - but when she told of his silence, it did not seem very likely, even to Charlotte's wishes, to be the case; and after various conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to proceed from the difficulty of finding any thing to do, which was the more probable from the time of year. All field sports were over. Within doors there was Lady Catherine, books, and a billiard table, but gentlemen cannot be always within doors; and in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied by their aunt.
It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he had pleasure in their society, but why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice -- a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom appeared really animated.
Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam's occasionally laughing at his stupidity, proved that he was generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told her. She might have been surprised to know that Elizabeth too, could have provided this information. As Charlotte would have liked to believe this change the effect of love, and the object of that love, her friend Eliza, she set herself seriously to work to find it out. -- She watched him whenever they were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success. He certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often wondered whether there were much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but absence of mind.
Charlotte's own confusion was nothing in comparison to Elizabeth's, whose difficulty in understanding his behaviour was compounded by the more unreserved behaviour he exhibited when they happened to meet alone. More than once did Elizabeth in her ramble within the Park, unexpectedly run across Mr Darcy. Initially believing that he might not be pleased to have come upon her alone, took care to inform him at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers, thinking he might likely avoid that area of the park in the future, and therefore she felt both surprise and a reserved pleasure upon meeting him there a second time, and even a third.
On these occasions he seemed in no hurry to leave her, turning to walk with her and introducing such entertaining and informed subjects for discussion, that Elizabeth found it impossible not to respond. When he wished, he could easily rival his cousin for intelligent conversation, so she was at a loss to understand why he was so taciturn when they were in general company.
Darcy had initially felt conflicted upon finding Elizabeth alone but, unable to resist the temptation of her presence, it seemed to take only a few moments for his resolve to completely dissipate. His reason may have told him to maintain an appropriate distance, both mentally and physically, however he found her company singularly enticing and, frankly, felt little inclined to fight to fight his attraction. When at Rosings itself, he had a constant reminder of family expectations, and the chasm in status between himself and Elizabeth was ever before him. Even at the parsonage their difference in situation seemed on display, but alone in the park nothing external intruded upon his understanding of her natural abilities and desirability.
On the first meeting he had been charmed as much as he ever had been. He'd enjoyed her lively spirits and conversation, but on offering her his arm as they walked back toward the parsonage, had found himself disappointed, as Elizabeth civilly denied his assistance with the protestation that she felt not at all tired.
On their second meeting therefore, upon his experiencing the desire for closeness that inevitably arose when in her company, he did not give her the option of refusal but simply took her hand and placed it on his arm as they continued their stroll. He had been right to fear that Elizabeth would have again refused his arm. She found it difficult enough to think collectedly when he gave her such personal attention as he did on their strolls, without her thoughts being confounded by the sensations produced by the intimacy of touch, even when just the light feel of his arm.
She had returned to the parsonage in a turmoil of emotions, wondering what he might feel for her, but any hopes that wanted to arise, were dampened that evening during supper at Rosings, when he hardly spoke ten words to her, and seemed quite content to leave her to the powers of Colonel Fitzwilliam for the whole of the visit.
Her perplexity only increased upon a third rencontre, when it struck her that he was asking some odd unconnected questions -- about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins's happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts, or was he speaking of his own expectations? It distressed her more than a little, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite the Parsonage. Might it mean he was considering her for himself, or that he was happy to see her with his cousin?
Only a few days later She was engaged, as she walked, in re-perusing Jane's last letter, and dwelling on some passages which made her long for a happiness akin to that which her sister had found, when, instead of being again surprised by Mr. Darcy, she saw on looking up, that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. Putting away the letter immediately and forcing a smile to cover her disappointment at it not being his cousin, she said,
``I did not know before that you ever walked this way.''
``I have been making the tour of the Park,'' he replied, ``as I generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the Parsonage. Are you going much farther?''
``No, I should have turned in a moment.''
And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonage together.
``Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?'' said she.
``Yes -- if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases.''
Elizabeth did not quite know how to interpret this last piece of information. She had not known their visit had been drawn out more than initially intended, and in the hope of possibly discovering if she might have been a factor in Darcy's decision to stay longer, tried to prolong the topic through venturing;
``Do you think him pleased in the arrangement, or simply enjoying the great pleasure in the power of choice. I do not know any body who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy.'' She stopped herself quickly, hoping her exasperation over Darcy's seemingly uncertain behaviour had not shown through.
``He likes to have his own way very well,'' replied Colonel Fitzwilliam, quite oblivious to the undertones in Elizabeth's comment. ``But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it than many others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speak feelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and dependence.''
``In my opinion, the younger son of an Earl can know very little of either. Now, seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going wherever you chose, or procuring any thing you had a fancy for?'' laughed Elizabeth.
``These are home questions -- and perhaps I cannot say that I have experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greater weight, I may suffer from the want of money. Younger sons cannot marry where they like.''
``Unless they like women of fortune, which I think they very often do,'' Elizabeth answered with a cheeky smile.
``Our habits of expence make us too dependant, and there are not many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to money.''
``Is this,'' thought Elizabeth, ``meant for me?'' and she coloured at the idea; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, ``And pray, what is the usual price of an Earl's younger son? Unless the elder brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds.''
He answered her in the same style, happy that he'd had an opportunity to make such a hint, and genuinely relieved that she did not seem at all disappointed. Elizabeth still felt a little self conscious, so to interrupt a silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed, she soon afterwards said somewhat flippantly,
``I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of having somebody at his disposal when Miss Darcy is otherwise engaged. Having a sister under his sole care, must satisfy his craving to direct things as he likes.''
``Actually,'' said Colonel Fitzwilliam, very glad of the turn of conversation, ``that is an advantage which he must divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy.''
``Are you, indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you make? From my acquaintance with Georgiana I would say you are very lucky in your charge. Young ladies of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage, and if she had the true Darcy spirit, she may have liked to have her own way.''
As she spoke, she observed him looking at her earnestly, and the manner in which he immediately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy likely to give them any uneasiness, convinced her that she had somehow or other got pretty near the truth. She directly replied,
``You need not be frightened. I never heard or saw any harm of her; she actually impressed me as is one of the most amiable creatures in the world, and I was very glad to have the opportunity of her company when she attended my sister and Mr Bingley's wedding."
Colonel Fitzwilliam feeling reassured on that ground, now happily took up the subject of Bingley's marriage.
"I believe he is a very fortunate man by all accounts," he smiled. "I have heard much of how well marriage suits him. I believe that Darcy is a little jealous."
"Over my sister?" Elizabeth asked, in perhaps too incredulous a tone.
"By no means!" The Colonel laughed. "Simply a little envious of the domestic happiness his friend seems to have found. Actually younger sons are not the only ones under expectations concerning marriage. I suspect that Darcy has suffered a recent trial in this regard himself."
``What is it you mean?'' Elizabeth could not stop herself from asking.
``It is a circumstance which Darcy, of course, would not wish to be generally known, because if it were to get round to the lady or her family, it would be an unpleasant thing.''
``You may depend upon my not mentioning it.''
``And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it to be exactly the case," Fitzwilliam continued, "but I have more than an inkling that Darcy was much taken by a woman this season, and it was only strong objections to the family which made him hold back from making an offer."
Even his fair companion's sudden loss of colour did not awaken within the Colonel any notion that Elizabeth could be the woman in question. He had too long assumed Darcy to have been taken by one of the women of the ton to think differently now, on top of which, Darcy's guarded behaviour during their whole stay in Kent had never suggested such a circumstance as a possibility.
Elizabeth made no answer and walked on, her heart swelling with hurt, but also with indignation. In fact the Colonels words had only confirmed what she had, in honest moments, suspected - but hearing it for a certainty effected her more than she might have anticipated. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked her why she was so thoughtful.
``I am thinking of what you have been telling me,'' said she. ``Your cousin's conduct does not suit my feelings. Why is the woman's worth to be judged by considerations of her family?''
``You are rather disposed to reproach his considerations?''
``I do not see why Mr Darcy should pay more due to social expectations than to his own inclination or the feelings of the woman involved, particularly if, as you have suggested, she is a woman of society. Why should matters of wealth triumph so much over matters of the heart? But,'' she continued, recollecting herself, ``as we know none of the particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed that there was much affection in the case.''
``That is not an unnatural surmise,'' said Fitzwilliam, ``but it is lessening the honour of my cousin's triumph over his natural inclinations very sadly.''
This was spoken jestingly, but it appeared to her so just a picture of Mr. Darcy that she would not trust herself with an answer; and, therefore, abruptly changing the conversation, talked on indifferent matters till they reached the parsonage. There, shut into her own room as soon as their visitor left them, she could think without interruption of all that she had heard, and after much consideration could not accept that the Colonel had been speaking of anyone but her, where upon she could no longer hold back her tears.
She found some relief in that nothing had been said against herself. "Neither could any thing be urged against my father," she mused "who, though with some peculiarities, has abilities which Mr. Darcy himself need not disdain.'' Elizabeth thought back to her recent conversation again. ``There were some very strong objections against the family," were Colonel Fitzwilliam's very words, and these strong objections probably were her having one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was in business in London. What right did Mr Darcy have to judge them on so little acquaintance? In doing so he showed himself no better than Caroline Bingley, and much less than her brother!
When she thought of her mother, indeed, her confidence gave way a little, but in the state of hurt and indignation she was now in, she would not allow that any objections there had material weight with Mr Darcy, whose pride, she assured herself, would receive a deeper wound from the want of importance in his connections, than from their want of sense.
In all honesty, she admitted, his pride might have been in part understandable, or even forgivable in her eyes, had he not led her on; if he had not so often gone out of his way to attend to her, to seek her conversation, opinion, and even touch. It appeared to her that he had actively sought her admiration and regard, without any intention that their friendship should go further. It had not been fair!
She was given pause for a moment as she recalled that over their time in Kent she had received even more attention from Colonel Fitzwilliam; and wondered that she had not been at all angered by his making it clear that he harboured no intentions toward her... but that was different she told herself. Why?... the answer was easy in the end - it was different because she didn't love Colonel Fitzwilliam.
The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned brought on a headache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening that, added to her unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it determined her not to attend her cousins to Rosings, where they were engaged to drink tea. Mrs. Collins, seeing that she was really unwell, did not press her to go, and as much as possible prevented her husband from pressing her, but Mr. Collins could not conceal his apprehension of Lady Catherine's being rather displeased by her staying at home.
WHEN they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate herself, went again over her history with Mr Darcy... this time not allowing herself to dwell on that which she had come to appreciate in him... pushing aside remembrances if his humour, his intelligence, his fine person and his informed opinions. She would not think on the way he listened and understood when she spoke... but instead brought to mind any of his past behaviours which had troubled her. She recalled his early disdain of the Hertfordshire community, how he had originally impressed her as arrogant, and remembered his coolness towards some of her relatives. She thought of how withdrawn he seemed in the company of Mr Gardiner, and of the fact that he was so aloof from herself when in the circle of his own family...
Her mind then naturally turned to the inconsistencies in his attentions toward her. He seemed relaxed and even content when they were alone together, but in company it was almost as if he sought to conceal their friendship, and she felt even more foolish for her feelings toward him, as she recalled his departures from Hertfordshire without any apparent backward glance... Why had she not taken more care to protect her heart more from such capricious behaviour?
She had not the chance to settle this point, as she was suddenly roused by the sound of the door bell, and her spirits knew not what to do when she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room. In an uneasy manner he immediately began an enquiry after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. And she answered him with as much cold civility as she could muster in her present state. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up, walked about the room.
Elizabeth was determined to say not a word, telling herself over and over again not to show herself a fool... to hold on to her dignity. After a silence which seemed to last several minutes, at last he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began,
``In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.''
Chapter 19
Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. Given that she had spent the last hours dealing with the belief that such a confession was beyond all possibility, she knew not what to say. She stared, coloured, doubted and was silent. As he continued with an avowal of all that he felt and had long felt for her, she listened with a melting of the resentment which she had built up since her afternoon exchange with Colonel Fitzwilliam. The tenderness he expressed could not fail to move her, and upon hearing him finally voice such feelings, all her recent musings became anything but relevant, they did not signify in the least...
He spoke beautifully, but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority -- of its being a degradation -- of the family obstacles which judgement had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit.
By the time he concluded with representing to her the strength of that attachment which, in spite of all his endeavours, he had found impossible to conquer; and with expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of his hand, the bubble had burst. The pleasure and emotion she had experienced when he had first spoken of his love had become overwhelmed by the insensitivity of his subsequent language, and she lost all pleasure in the sadness of understanding what was now required of her. She tried, however, to steady herself to answer him with some semblance of composure, when he was done.
"Mr Darcy, I cannot say I am not moved by the strength of your attachment, and I can hardly be insensible to the honour you pay me in making such an offer. I thank you... but I cannot... I am unable to accept. I think it is for the best."
Mr Darcy, who was leaning against the mantle-piece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less confusion than surprise. His complexion became pale, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips, till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth's feelings dreadful, and almost made her repent of her refusal. At length though Darcy spoke in a voice of forced control.
``Is all the reply which you are able to give me. Could you perhaps enlighten me as to why you see such a rejection as necessary? But if you are truly resolved against accepting me, I suppose it is of small importance.''
Elizabeth winced at the bitter tone which lay beneath his question, and felt the beginnings of a rising indignation that he should consider himself the one wronged in this circumstance.
"I am sorry if I have occasioned any pain," Elizabeth answered, an edge of sharpness coming into her own voice. "I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgement of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it!''
"You did not answer my enquiry," Darcy replied coldly. In his disappointment an indignation of his own began to rise to match hers. "And might I also ask why you feel the need to address me in such an uncivil tone?"
``I might as well enquire,'' replied she, ``why, with so evident a design of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil?"
``So this is the reason for your refusal," Darcy exclaimed in a rather impolitic manner, as he turned and walked toward her. " Your pride has been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. This bitter refusal might have been suppressed, had I with greater policy concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination -- by reason, by reflection, by every thing. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?''
Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry and distressed every moment; yet she tried to the utmost to speak with composure when she said,
``You are mistaken, Mr Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration was foremost in my mind in my reasons for refusing you. It simply spared me the greater pain of uncertainty which I may have otherwise experienced, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.''
She saw him start at this, but he said nothing, and feeling more dreadful upon observing the look of pain which crossed his face, she felt the need to go on,
``Mr Darcy, I would be dishonest if I did not tell you I have the greatest regard for you. There are so many things which I admire and respect in you, that I have not the words to do them justice right now... but I too have my own self respect to consider."
Darcy felt a small lifting of his desperation upon her confession, but also a foreboding at the knowledge that there was more to come.
"My family's estate may not be as grand as Pemberley or Rosings, my yearly allowance and the amount to be settled upon me is negligible comparative to those of women such as Miss De Bourgh, Georgiana, and even Miss Bingley."
Here he almost interrupted to say that such things were on no importance, but some wisdom told him it was time to remain silent.
"I do not have an uncle who is as Earl, and if I am at all descended from nobility it is from so many aeons ago that time itself would have forgotten any such connection. You are right though, in saying that it is my pride that has got in the way. I do not feel so little pride in myself to allow me consent to a marriage in which I am accorded so little respect..."
"But my dearest Elizabeth..." Darcy could no longer could stop himself from passionately interjecting, "...you do have my respect... my utmost honour."
At such a confession Elizabeth could no longer contain her tears, but she would not be a fool. Even the last few minutes had strengthened her resolve to do what she should, to do what was right. She brushed the tears from her face and continued.
"Is it honour that lead you to disdain my family, even those of sense and information such as my Uncle Gardiner? He may be in trade, but at least he behaves as a true Gentleman in both manners and principle."
Darcy again tried to defend himself, but Elizabeth went on.
"Was it honour which lead you to play with my affections, as though they were of no consideration? Was it respect to make me care for you, and then to leave without so much as a goodbye? Was it respect for me which led you to be 'quite the man about town' this winter after you left Hertfordshire...?"
By this time Elizabeth was not even trying to hide her pain.
"Is it a form of honour to ignore my existence whilst in the presence of your more illustrious relations, and to only deign to pay me attention when there is no-one to witness...?"
Elizabeth, no longer able to go on, buried her head in her hands and wept, leaving Darcy only able to look on helplessly, his own pain necessarily taking second place to that which he was witnessing... to the pain which he had caused.
He knew not what instinct possessed him to move closer, to hold her, but she bmade no protest, yet simply sobbed into his shoulder as he rocked her and whispered comforting words. Slowly her weeping subsided, but he still held her until she, suddenly remembering herself, pulled away.
"Elizabeth..." Darcy ventured in a husky voice, "...we can overcome this. Isn't love enough."
She yearned to agree, she ached to relent, but some mischance recollected her parents marriage to her... She might overlook many things, but could not overlook something as integral as respect.
"I'm so very sorry Mr Darcy... but it is not."
"Elizabeth... please..." he began but was cut off before he could get any further.
"Mr Darcy, will you at least pay me the honour of believing I have been serious in my refusal, and of accepting my decision."
Darcy found he had no answer to such a request, and indicating his acceptance through a slight nod of the head, silently left the parsonage.