By Reason, by Reflection, by Everything

by P. O. Dixon

  When Jane and I are reunited in Hertfordshire, I shall have a chance to observe the young man in a whole new light, and then I will know whether to worry about my sister’s marital felicity. Until such time, what is the point in entertaining such a troublesome concern?

  Elizabeth’s thoughts tended to her own situation. Her circle of intimate acquaintances had broadened indeed. She thought fondly enough of Colonel Fitzwilliam and had spent enough time in his company to know that they would no doubt fall readily into agreeable conversation again when next they met, even if that occasion should occur some years down the road. And despite his admonishments to her to be weary of George Wickham’s charm, Elizabeth could not honestly say that she had seen anything in his character that would suggest he was indeed a dishonorable man. On the contrary, she liked him very much. Although she was sensible enough not to completely disregard the colonel’s advice, especially since the colonel’s words were bolstered by his cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy’s views.

  Thus, Elizabeth was content to consider Mr. Wickham a friend indeed, just not one who might ever be mistaken as one of her intimate friends.

  I should like to think that Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and I are intimate friends.

  So long as she had thought of the gentleman as Jane’s prospective husband, her sentiments toward him, she likened to a betrayal of sorts—not an easy sentiment to feel toward one’s most beloved sister by any stretch of the imagination.

  But that had been before Jane eloped with the gentleman’s best friend. At times, when she gave herself permission to even consider such a thing, she supposed that Jane’s act might have been viewed as a betrayal as well.

  True, there was no formal commitment on either Jane or Mr. Darcy’s part to enter a courtship, but with that being the underlying motive for the Bennets to travel so far and to remain at Pemberley for so long, it was not unreasonable to expect some sort of commitment toward that end.

  Once again, Elizabeth paused to consider perhaps that was never the reason for their stay in Derbyshire at all, even as she could not bring herself to think that they had all been ill-used.

  Jane had spoken of destiny. She really did believe that things turned out exactly as there were meant to be. I must content myself with the truth of my sister’s words and dwell on what otherwise might have been no longer.

  Heading back to the manor house, Elizabeth was surprised to see Mr. Darcy heading toward her. His steps were too deliberate for her to suppose that he was walking that way with any purpose other than meeting her. Elizabeth halted her own steps and waited.

  She could not help comparing the man that he was at that moment to the man he was when she first laid eyes on him. In physical appearance, he was very much the same.

  She detected in his manner, however, a changed man. One who bore an enormous weight on his shoulders, a man now responsible for all that surrounded them. The new master of Pemberley.

  As a brother, a landlord, a master, how many people’s happiness is in his guardianship! How much of pleasure or pain is in his power to bestow! How much of good or evil might be done by him!

  During those endless seconds, she was not unaware that she had changed as well. Her dreams were less fanciful—her hopes more realistic.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” he said bowing. “Pardon me, Miss Bennet,” he corrected, no doubt in recognition of her newly earned status as the eldest unwed Bennet daughter.

  She said, “Sir, I would like to think that we know each other very well by now, having spent the better part of the past several months in each other’s company, that such formality between us is not necessary.”

  “Then what shall I call you?” he began, “for it would be my greatest wish to call you by your given name, Elizabeth.”

  The implication of her words struck her, but she did not want to presume anything, although his words really did suggest a manner of intimacy that had remained unexplored for what was perhaps too long, at least on her part.

  “You wish to address me by my given name, sir?”

  “When it is just the two of us alone like this, one man and one woman who have grown to know each other in the manner that the two of us have. Pray tell me that I do not presume too much.”

  Before Elizabeth could fashion her response, he said, “I was standing at my window when I saw you walking, and I deliberately sought you out, so that we might spend time together in privacy - in a manner which has eluded us for the past week.”

  He silently encouraged her to turn and walk with him in the direction opposite of her original destination. “In vain, I have struggled,” he began after what appeared to be a bout of silent debate. “It will not do. You must allow me to tell you how much I have grown to care for you. From the moment I first saw you, I felt that I had caught a glimpse of my destiny.”

  He stopped walking, encouraging Elizabeth to do the same. Taking her hand in his, he said, “I shall not ask you to put your life on hold as I suffer this period of mourning, settling my father’s affairs, and assuming my duties as master of Pemberley for I do not know that it would be fair to you. I will, however, ask that you grant me this one thing.”

  The power of her astonishment was such that she did not know immediately what to say. At length, she responded, “What is it?”

  “Tell me you will wait for me.”

  Elizabeth knew exactly what she wanted to say in the wake of Mr. Darcy’s proposal. Words to the effect of how unseemly it would be for her to leave Pemberley, in effect standing in her sister’s stead as the future Mistress of Pemberley. How could she? She cared not so much about the opinion of the world in general, but that of those most closely connected to her. She had no doubt of her mother’s response. But what of her father’s? Her younger sisters’? Of Jane’s?

  And then it dawned on her that the gentleman had not offered his hand in marriage, but rather some ambiguous albeit intriguing notion of waiting for him.

  Here again, in the wake of her apparent inability to utter a response, he said, “Elizabeth, you need not give me an answer this very minute. No doubt, you will want time to consider all the implications of such a request.”

  “Sir,” she began, wanting to seek specific clarification on the nature of his request. She had hardly made a start before their intimate party of two was soon to grow into a not so intimate party of five. Indeed, the colonel flanked by the Bingley sisters clinging to either of his arms called out to his cousin from a short distance just ahead.

  Speeding up their pace, Miss Bingley, as well as Mrs. Hurst, quickly relinquished their partner’s arms in favor of Mr. Darcy’s upon reaching him. This none too subtle scheme left Elizabeth to the gallantry of Colonel Fitzwilliam. As the two ladies commenced pulling Mr. Darcy away with exultations of how fortunate they were to have come across him, he threw an apologetic stare in Elizabeth’s direction.

  Amid Mr. Darcy’s insistence that they must all continue their walk together, the colonel offered Elizabeth his arm. Accepting it with a gracious smile that belied her displeasure at the hands of the two women in the whole world whom she cared least about, Elizabeth, along with the colonel, fell in step with the others, and they continued along the path.

  What a difference in the conversation from that point on, especially from Mr. Darcy. He barely uttered a word, content to allow the three uninvited guests to his private audience with Elizabeth to carry the conversation. They managed to do so admirably.

  At length, their party came to a point along the path that begged the Bingley sisters’ admiration, thus allowing them to loosen their grips on Mr. Darcy. His cousin must have read in Mr. Darcy’s expression his desire to continue the conversation that had been so hastily abandoned for he, too, surrendered his place by Elizabeth’s side and stepped away to admire the view.

  Darcy said, “I wish for us to continue this conversation. This evening perhaps, when the others have retired, and we shall be certain not to be interrupted.”

  Nodding in acquiescence, Elizabeth smiled.
Again, not certain of his specific intention for a clandestine meeting, but not opposed to finding out, she said. “It will be my pleasure, sir.” Her slightly arched brow effectively begged the question: “Where shall we meet?”

  “Meet me in the library at midnight,” he said, his eyes filled with the promise of a night to remember.

  Chapter 28

  Richly Deserve

  Elizabeth had dressed with more than usual care and prepared in the highest spirits in eager anticipation of what was to unfold late that night. She spent the better part of her time glancing at the clock, for she thought the evening’s activities would never end.

  At length, the gathering dispersed, everyone with the intention of retiring to his or her own apartment. When the household appeared to have settled for the evening, Elizabeth stole away from the room. She would use the excuse of searching for a book to read if she were discovered.

  She did not get very far before the sound of a gentleman’s voice caused her to halt her steps. She turned to face him.

  “Mr. Wickham.” She curtsied.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” he said, bowing.” Pardon, Miss Bennet. Once again, I wish to congratulate you on your family’s good fortune?”

  “On my sister’s behalf, I thank you, sir. “

  “Indeed, I might add that your sister fared far better than she might have had fate not intervened by placing Charles Bingley in her path.”

  “I beg your pardon, sir?”

  “Perhaps I should not have spoken as I just did.”

  “On the contrary, sir. If there is something you wish to tell me then, by all means, do so.”

  With affected reluctance, he began. “It is commonly known that Darcy’s heart was not going to be touched so easily by your sister, regardless of her manifold attractions.”

  “Commonly known?”

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, to those who know him best, your sister never stood a chance.”

  Wickham’s words echoed the colonel’s sentiments too closely— indeed her own sentiments as well when Elizabeth dared confess it.

  “I daresay this is not the first time that Darcy has toyed with a young woman’s heart. It is his way. At the end of the day, he will do what is expected of him.”

  “And what, pray tell, do you suppose that is?”

  “Oh! This is not merely supposition on my part. I have known Darcy all his life. Nothing is more important to him than money and power. He may trifle with the affections of unsuspecting young ladies, but he will never marry one of them. I say these things to you for your own benefit.”

  Elizabeth looked at her watch. She realized she was late for her assignation with Mr. Darcy. She did not like the idea of keeping him waiting for no good cause, or in other words, Mr. Wickham’s baseless claims.

  I shall not allow him to poison my opinion against Mr. Darcy any more than I would allow Mr. Darcy to poison my opinion against Wickham. Whatever is the source of acrimony between the two of them can have nothing at all to do with me.

  Besides, if there were even a shred of truth to what Wickham had to say, then surely she owed it to Mr. Darcy to hear his own account. She would not even allow herself to consider the implications of Wickham’s words on the sentiments espoused by Mr. Darcy earlier that very day and the ensuing purpose of their clandestine meeting in the library.

  Let me speak with him for myself, and then I will know what to think. Furthermore, I shall ask him directly what were his intentions toward my sister, and whatever his reply, the matter shall be settled for all time.

  Thus resolved, she bid Wickham a hasty adieu, but before she went on her way, he seized her hand in his, raised it to his lips, and bestowed a lingering kiss. And then they parted.

  Upon arriving at the appointed place, albeit a tad late, Elizabeth sentiments were a mixture of regret and relief that Mr. Darcy was not there. Her chance encounter with Mr. Wickham had bothered her more than she had allowed, and she needed to compose herself before seeing him.

  I shall speak with him tomorrow, she silently promised herself.

  Upon returning to her apartment, Elizabeth surmised she must have had a visitor in her absence, for there was a missive on her dressing table. Having dismissed her maid for the evening, she could not help but wonder how the letter got there. Elizabeth reached for the letter. It bore the Darcy seal.

  Did Mr. Darcy place it here himself? Perchance he provides an explanation for his absence.

  She tore open the seal and began reading the missive in silence. The following words sprang from the page:

  It is with a heavy heart that I find myself writing this letter to you.

  Words can hardly express the depth of my disappointment in seeing you and Wickham speaking so intimately this very evening. Is nothing I have said about that gentleman - his vile manner and low propensities - of any consequence? Seeing you two behaving so intimately toward each other serves as sufficient proof that indeed, it does not.

  Furthermore, your comportment makes me question whether I ever knew you at all. I have witnessed too many young women being taken advantage of by Wickham. I always supposed you were too sensible to be counted among them. It seems I have badly mistaken your character, and now I must congratulate myself for having been denied the private audience I requested of you.

  I shudder to think what I might have said or done had we met this evening, as I had proposed. Indeed, I am ashamed of what I once felt and cannot help but rejoice in having been spared the possibility of connections with people whose conditions in life are so decidedly beneath my own.

  I will further add the only pleasure I shall expect where you and your family are concerned is your imminent leave-taking of Pemberley—an occasion which cannot come soon enough.

  I will only say in closing, God speed. May you and all your family find the happiness you so richly deserve.

  FD

  The turmoil in Elizabeth’s mind increased with every review of the letter. She thought she knew him too well to suspect that he might be jealous of George Wickham. Perhaps there was some truth to Wickham’s words after all. How else was she to explain such a harsh rebuke? In all the time she had known Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, she never would have suspected such a cold dismissal from him.

  Well, if he did not mean to see her again, if he chose to willfully misunderstand something so innocent as her walking and talking with Mr. Wickham, then it was just as well that their paths never crossed again.

  Thus resolved, and by now wild to be away from Pemberley, Elizabeth rang the bell for her maid, with hardly a concern about the inconvenience of the hour.

  It is painfully evident my presence at Pemberley is no longer tolerable. I must speak to Papa post haste and insist we take our leave of Derbyshire as soon as can be.

  Chapter 29

  Impropriety Aside

  Having successfully prevailed on her father to arrange for their precipitous departure from Pemberley, Elizabeth returned to her apartment intent on not wasting a single moment of her time dwelling on those thoughts that had accompanied her to sleep, wreaked havoc on her dreams, and shaken her from her slumber.

  “—the only pleasure I shall expect where you and your family are concerned is your imminent leave-taking of Pemberley—an occasion which cannot come soon enough.”

  Elizabeth’s heart sank all over again. Such unfeeling words once spoken, or in this case once written, can never be forgotten.

  Amid the hurry and confusion inherent in such a speedy departure, she threw a long look about the apartment that had been hers for so many weeks, just in case she had overlooked one of her possessions. How fortunate she was to have cared so little for the people she was leaving behind—to be alleviated of the need for hastily written notes with false excuses for their sudden departure. As they were already scheduled to return to Hertfordshire later during the week, most of the work of packing up her belongings had already been done. As for her sister’s belongings, Elizabeth had overseen the packing and shipping
to Scarborough where Jane and her husband were staying.

  A light rap on the door drew Elizabeth’s attention from the task at hand. Not knowing who might be on the other side, the thought that it might be Mr. Darcy himself demanding that she leave the premises immediately did occur to her. She hesitated a bit.

  Surely it is not Mr. Darcy. The impropriety aside, he has made it clear he never wishes to see me again. The inevitability that such a prospect was altogether impossible, she summoned her courage. Silently signaling her intention to answer the door to the maid, Elizabeth tucked a loosened strand of hair behind her ear. She smoothed her skirt. On her way to the door, she threw a quick glance at her reflection in the mirror.

  She reached for the knob, turned it and opened the door. “Papa,” she said, relieved as she stepped aside, encouraging him to enter.

  “My dear, I have information that Mr. Darcy is currently away from Pemberley.”

  “Oh,” she said, hoping her voice did not evidence her relief in hearing this. A part of her wondered about the precise timing of his leave-taking: just after composing his hurtful letter or at the break of dawn. Not that it mattered to her.

  Mr. Bennet nodded. “Indeed. I thought it best to speak with him directly to convey our sudden change in plans.”

  “I am sure Mr. Darcy will have no objection. He most certainly will not be offended by being denied the opportunity for a formal goodbye.”

  “After all the unparalleled courtesy the Darcys have shown our family these past weeks, I believe it is incumbent upon us to thank the young man properly.”

  Endeavoring to mask her true feelings, Elizabeth said, “Have you any indication when he might return? I believe it is equally incumbent upon us to set out upon our journey sooner rather than later—that is to say, unless we mean to toss our schedule into complete disarray.”

  “You make a good point, my dear. Mr. Darcy’s steward did say he had no knowledge of when the young man will return.” He shrugged. “I shall write a letter to Mr. Darcy instead—one that expresses my sincerest gratitude for his family’s hospitality.”