“It is about Jane,” she said, and tears dropped on her face making Charlotte take her hands into hers.
“I hope you do not have any painful news from London.”
“No, no,” Elizabeth shook her head while she tried to wipe her tears. “I just found out that her misery was caused by Mr Darcy, who advised Mr Bingley not to continue his relationship with her.”
There was much more than wonder on Charlotte’s face. She was also saddened and worried. “But why?”
“Why? Because this gentleman thought that my sister did not have profound sentiments for his friend.”
“This is so untrue!” cried Charlotte. “Jane is the most sincere person in the world.”
“Of course she is, only Mr Darcy thought otherwise. Although I suspect that it was more…he just dislikes our family and advised his friend not to marry one of us!”
Charlotte was in shock, incapable of speaking in the face of such a revelation. She had always had high regards towards the Bennets and in Meryton they were respected and appreciated.
“Please excuse me,” Elizabeth said, “but I need to go to my room and write to Jane.”
“Of course, my dear, I will send the maid with tea. Take your time, and if you are not able to come down for dinner, I will excuse you.”
Elizabeth looked to her friend with much gratitude. Indeed she was unable to participate in the dull conversation—centred on Lady Catherine—Mr Collins imposed each evening when he was home.
Once upstairs, she could let her tears freely fall on her face, devastated for all the reasons the situation revealed. In the silence of her room, she remembered every word that was said between her and Darcy. He had indeed come to propose, and she denied his proposal. She was sorry for Jane, but she had other regrets she had to face. For the first time in a month, she accepted that instead of loathing that man…she liked him. Lying on the bed—oscillating between loyalty to her dear sister and her long-repressed sentiments—she finally recognised that she was in love with him, even from the first time they had met. The explosive relationship between them was nothing but an attempt to hide their real feelings. They continued to be sarcastic and verbally fight long after the sentiments became intense.
The unbelievable thing was he advised his best friend not to marry a Bennet while he was in love with another sister. She understood how hard he had fought with his feelings knowing that he did not like her family. Love and loathing were mixing in her mind in a desperate combination. His words about fighting his feelings were so vivid and so accurate. She was also fighting against her love for a man who made her sister unhappy and despised her family. In a bizarre and twisted way, they were in the same situation, attracted to one another yet filled with doubts.
She recalled their last dance together at Netherfield, how she reacted each time he came near her, how she blushed and felt all her body on fire.
It was the first time in her life when she felt love. Compared to the present tumult, her girlish sentiments for Wickham were insignificant. But then she remembered Wickham and how Darcy had behaved with him and again she hated Darcy for being perfect for her and yet so full of faults she contemned.
The tremendous agitation of the day made her fall asleep, but her dreams were full of him. She lived a scene that never took place when he took her into his arms and kissed her. His lips were so real and the kiss so disturbing that she woke up sweating, all her body in an expectation she did not comprehend. But the reality made her cry again in despair; the man she loved was the one who destroyed Jane’s happiness.
She did not answer when he asked her if she agreed to see him again. But not because Charlotte was approaching but plainly because she could not imagine him disappearing forever from her life.
She needed someone with whom to discuss, to rest her forehead on a benevolent person’s shoulder and the only one she could think about was her aunt.
I love him, can you believe that I have concealed my feelings even from myself? I need to come to London and decide what to do, I need to discuss with you face to face, I need to tell Jane the truth and to get rid of this terrible feeling I am betraying her…need…need…when do you think I will live again in pace?
Elizabeth wrote many other things, almost four pages of confessions and what a contrariety of emotion they excited.
Chapter 4
Elizabeth woke up the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations which had troubled her the night before. Even her dreams appeared to continue their strange story. One moment she was happy with him strolling in magic woods and the next she saw Jane coming on an alley, crying and telling her it was her fault. Her precarious state of happiness was utterly disturbed in dreams and…reality.
She could neither recover from the events that happened nor decide how to go on. But it was impossible to think of anything else. She needed more time to reflect and soon after breakfast, she indulged herself in air and exercise. The long letter she had written to Mrs Gardiner was already sent to London. It contained the whole story and the turmoil she was living in since yesterday but also kindly asking her uncle to send someone to take her back.
Taking her favourite walk on the paths that boarded the park—far away from the mansion—-she could see anybody coming from that direction. It was the first clear decision in that messy morning as she knew Mr Darcy sometimes came the same way. They met more than once and strolled together in the park. It looked like a chance, but presently she saw all these events with different eyes. More likely, both of them had utilised that way to meet, still incapable of recognising their urge to see each other.
The beautiful morning and its bright blue sky afforded Elizabeth a frail state of enjoyment. The spring had made a significant difference in the country since her arrival, every day adding to the verdure of the early trees. She was hoping to regain her composure and approach a solution to her problem when she caught a glimpse of a gentleman coming her way. The most painful and pleasant emotion struck her when she recognised Darcy in the distance. “It is he,”—she thought, and maybe even she whispered the words to the beautiful park around. She wondered what they would say, but his eyes when he approached were so fearful that she involuntarily smiled.
“I intended to walk in this part of the park in hopes of meeting you,” he said instead of greetings, so eager was he to continue the conversation with her.
Elizabeth nodded, and her sweet gesture meant only one thing, she was also on the path to meet him. There was no anger or resentment on her face, just a blush that made her look divine in the morning mist.
As she continued to be silent, he said with a sigh, “You came!”
And again she nodded.
They walked one near the other listening to the morning sounds. Each tried to guess the other’s thoughts although it was not so difficult—they were together and that could show, at least, their wish to discuss their problems. There was no time for polite conversation; he was afraid she might leave or disaster might strike before he would have the time and occasion to tell her all that his mind and heart contained.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, “I have to begin with a rather painful story.”
He did not know that Elizabeth was in the only place in the world she wanted to be—ready to listen to him and try hard to find a solution for their feelings. She was listening to every word, every intonation was vital, so she turned to him, staring with intensity when he spoke. “I may have a lot of faults, but I am an honest man. I do not lie.”
For a moment, she took her eyes from him, so intense was the sentiment that he transmitted; she knew he was an honest man. He might be arrogant or have prejudices, be sometimes intolerant in society, but he was frank and truthful. “Maybe too frank,”—she thought and looked again at him.
He caught her glance and smiles like a child happy that she did believe him.
“My sister Georgiana is sixteen this year. As you probably know the colonel and myself are her guardians as my parents wished.”
Elizabeth nodded again surprised by the subject. She was expecting something else, but happy not to be right away in the centre of their problem.
“It is not easy to tell you this—we decided to bury this story…for Georgiana’s sake.”
“I am not going to reveal anything you consider to be a secret.”
“I know it is one of the things I like about you…” And then he added in jest. “As you may observe, I see only qualities in you while you expose only my faults!” It was a sweet reproach in a loving tone that made Elizabeth blush violently.
“I assure you I also see your qualities, Mr Darcy,” she whispered to dissipate the emotion surrounding them.
“It is good to know that,” he replied.
She did not want to take that direction yet; there was too much emotion between them, so she said, “You were saying something about Miss Georgiana.”
“Yes. Last year, when she was 15, Mr Wickham tried to seduce her and elope with her.”
It was such a shock that Elizabeth stopped in the middle of the path.
“I hope you believe me,” he said, facing her. “The colonel could eventually be my witness.”
Elizabeth was shaking her head with vigour, “No, it is not necessary, I believe you!”
It was a disclosure that shocked her thinking of Miss Georgiana but did not entirely surprise her remembering Wickham. Darcy was right. She had liked Wickham in the beginning, yet each time she had a strange feeling in his presence. It was as if she did not entirely believe him, like they were in a game and not real life, with him playing a part marvellously. She believed Darcy because she had had her doubts…and shames.
She correctly remembered everything that was said between Wickham and herself, during their first evening at Mr Phillips’s. Many of his words and the expressions on his face were still fresh in her memory. She was now ashamed with the way she communicated with a stranger and could see some of his hidden intentions. He was playing with her and his chat was full of allusions and illusions. She had been wrong—so wrong—about that man and the one who was now near her.
They continued to stroll while Darcy continued, “Mr Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years managed the Pemberley estates. In his benevolence and respect for Mr Wickham, my father supported his son at school, and afterwards at Cambridge. He had the highest opinion of George Wickham and hoped the church would be his profession, so he intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many years since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. I had opportunities of seeing him in different situations, and I formed a different opinion of him. He was untruthful and greedy, but he had a considerable capacity to appear like an honest gentleman. It was not long before he put his eyes and interest in Georgiana.
“Please, believe me, it was not a love story, Georgina was at the time a child. Not like the other girls of her age from London. She was pure and innocent, still interested by dolls and her pony when suddenly Wickham saw in her the heiress. I knew Wickham was not an honest man, but to seduce a child was despicable. I uncovered the plot unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement. Then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole story to me. That is the motive I had for such harsh words about him. And the reason we want to keep this story about my sister secret. It could do only harm to Georgiana’s reputation.”
“I understand and support you,” Elizabeth said, reflective but at the same time relieved.
“I want you to know the truth not only for my sake—to exonerate me—but mostly because Wickham has to be exposed as a womaniser. Without involving Georgiana. The young girls around him must be very cautious.”
Elizabeth smiled and lightly touched his elbow. “I was in no real danger as I am not an heiress.” He looked at her hand, and all he could think was to kiss that place where the glove and the coat left her skin uncovered. But he did not dare. Instead, he said, “I am not so sure about this, a young woman has other wealth that can be stolen!”
Elizabeth looked at him again in shock, “Mr Darcy, it is not a subject to be mentioned between strangers!” He kept her eyes prisoners in his while he whispered, “You came.” He made a gesture as he would have wanted to take her into his arms. But stopped again…at the last moment.
“Yes!” she said with the same profound and long whispering.
“We are not strangers. I knew you from the first time we danced at the Netherfield party.”
“When you said I was not pretty enough for you…”
“When I said such an untruth only to hide the truth from myself. I was attracted to you as never before in my life, and I wanted to run away. I was scared by my torment.”
“Stop, stop!” she cried in fear but also feeling a warm wind that was blowing inside her.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked. “Do you want me to disappear forever from your life? Please answer Elizabeth!”
All she could do was to shake her head; she did not want to lose him. However, the image of Jane banned her from speaking the truth about her feelings. How could she feel such happiness for the man who destroyed Jane’s?
“You are not saying ‘disappear,’” he was talking like a child in a guessing game.
“How could I say ‘stay’ when you broke my sister’s relationship with the man she loved?”
Darcy sighed like a man who escaped death.
“It is about that!”
“That is my dear sister’s happiness! I like you one moment, and then you speak, and I hate you the next!”
But the man in front of her heard only the first part; the rest was unimportant.
“You like me!”
“Not all the time!” she cried, in spite of his happiness.
“I didn’t sleep a minute last night. I watched for the dawn just to be able to run to you, I made crazy plans, to come under your window…I did not know which was your room, but I could shout at every window of the Parsonage.”
“Stop! Darcy, stop!”
“I cannot. I still have hope because, at the end of our conversation, you did not say you wanted me out of your life.”
“Charlotte was coming…” Elizabeth tried to escape.
“You had all the time in the world to make me understand you didn’t want to see me again.”
It was true. She did not hesitate because Charlotte entered the room but because she decided to be silent. It was an instant decision, but it came from her feelings she repressed or hid so much of the time.
“Will you marry me, then?” he said.
“No, I cannot marry you. You put Bingley on the run just to come after the second Bennet girl.”
“I am so sorry. However, I do not suppose that my intervention ultimately has prevented their relationship, had it not been seconded by the assurance, which I hesitated not in giving, of your sister’s indifference.”
“Now I hate you!” she said, hiding her eyes. “My sister’s indifference was, in fact, her shyness, her proper behaviour in the presence of the man she loved. She is not like me talking and arguing, but a person full of sincerity.”
“And I am full of regrets now—you can rely on that.”
“I need to know the whole story, everything that happened. How you arrived at thinking my sister is not interested enough in Mr Bingley and how you convinced him to end their relationship.”
“I understand, but if this story is all that prevents us from being together, we must find a way to solve it and…be together.”
Again Elizabeth was silent. Every time she walked near him, avoiding his eyes or kept a more considerable distance between them, his heart worried. Still, he accepted that Elizabeth deserved the truth.
“Do speak, sir!” she said.
He decided to tell her all that happened only because he hoped that at the end of that story, she would say ‘yes.’
“I had not been long at Ne
therfield before I saw that Bingley preferred Miss Jane to any other young woman in the country.”
“Indeed, it was obvious for all the people who spent more than a moment in their presence.”
“But it was not till the evening of the dance that I understood it was a serious attachment. You have to believe me that Bingley was not in love for the first time. I had often seen him in love before.”
Elizabeth looked at him in disbelief.
“Please, I admit that I was wrong in my doings, but there were also so many circumstances you did not know—you or your sister.”
“I admit, but it is not a good excuse. You did not want to take care of Jane, knowing that Bingley was a man who easily fell in love…on the contrary, you wanted to prevent him from having a stronger relationship with her.”
“It is true! Anyway, it was the dance where I met you, and I had the pleasure to dance with you…do you remember how we danced for the first time?”
He seemed ready to fall out from the story he was telling and enter another, with them as principal characters. A considerable temptation also for Elizabeth but she recovered in haste and said on a rather severe tone, “It is not about us today, Mr Darcy, please continue!”
“Earlier you called me Darcy!”
“I was wrong.”
“You were honest Elizabeth!” But her scolding glance made him continue. “I accidentally found out from Sir William Lucas that Bingley’s apparent attentions to your sister had given rise to a general expectation of their marriage.”
“No! That is impossible,” Elizabeth cried and blushed. “Oh, it is my mother who imagined such a thing, and most probably she said something to Lady Lucas. But you must believe me that was only chatting, a mother too enthusiastic about her daughter’s success.”
“How was I supposed to know this? All I saw was my friend too committed and your sister without any symptom of really liking Bingley. I remained convinced that she received his attentions with pleasure but also with interest as she had already decided to marry him.”
Elizabeth's Covenant Page 3
