by Anna Harlow
Having denied his suit, and abused him most abominably, it was quite doubtful that Mr. Darcy would wish to ever ask for her hand a second time. And the rampant butterflies in her gut had at last made their sentiments known to her. She held no disgust for that gentleman other than the manner in which he was dealing with his aunt, and even that behavior was understandable whether it was pleasing to her or not.
The precedent had long been set, and would not be easily set aside, as evidenced by Fitzwilliam’s behavior as well. For had he not, upon realizing that there would be trouble if he did not intervene, gone against his declaration to desist in flirting with her? Had his action not upset Darcy greatly, causing the return of all her pain? And now the mess was far greater than it had ever been, with hurt feelings and a sure knowledge of defeat.
It took many hours for the tears to subside, though the elixir may have deadened the headache much sooner. No elixir could kill the pain that was now residing in her heart. Elizabeth knew that she could not remain in Kent a moment longer, knowing that Darcy must now despise her. It was too much to endure.
When Charlotte saw her in the morning, she stared in shocked surprise. “Lizzy, are you quite well, dearest? Have you been crying?”
“Oh, Charlotte, I cannot begin to explain,” she told her. “I cannot stay in Kent a moment longer. I must take my leave of this place, for I cannot bear to be near him! I cannot see him touching her, cannot bear one more word of censure from Lady Catherine. I must be away from here immediately!”
“Channing? Will you go to Mr. Collins and inform him that we shall be departing for home?” said Charlotte directly. “Kitty will feel deprived of her company, to be sure, but I cannot wish my friend to endure such torture.”
“Of course, Miss Charlotte,” she agreed. “Right away.”
“Now, Lizzy, you must tell me everything that has happened,” said Charlotte when they were alone. “For I do not think such a sudden desire stems only from what you have endured at Rosings. Something more must have been added in, I think.”
“I cannot begin to tell you,” said Elizabeth tiredly. “Please, I beg you will not press me.”
Chapter Eighteen
Incensed by her accusations about Wickham, and desirous of an understanding between them, Darcy went straight to his room when he returned to Rosings the night before and penned a lengthy note to explain precisely what else had transpired to give him such a dislike of the gentleman.
It was the hardest decision he had ever made in his life to write down what had happened to his sister, but he felt strongly that there could be no healing of the rift that separated himself from the object of his desire until she knew all. Had she not said she could not risk being married to a monster? He must find a way to prove that he was no such thing.
When he came downstairs and entered the parlor, Lady Catherine was lecturing Fitzwilliam, but soon turned her ire upon him instead. “Darcy, there you are! Perhaps you might care to explain what transpired last night that would have Miss Elizabeth Bennet so upset that she has determined to leave Kent this very day? Fitzwilliam insists he had nothing at all to do with it, and you were the last one to see her, but nobody is telling me anything. I expected the young women to remain another three weeks, and now it seems we will be deprived of Miss Bennet and her skills with the piano completely. I am most put out.”
“The fault is mine, madam,” Darcy said, though he did not explain further. “I will go to Miss Elizabeth directly and determine if the issue can be resolved.”
“What on earth could she have to be mad at you for, sir?” Catherine demanded. “I know you to be a gentleman, and of course you would never wish to dishonor yourself, for my Anne awaits your proposals, and you would not wish to harm her in such a way.”
“Madam, if I but had the time to berate you for your continued assumptions about myself and your daughter—but forgive me, I must not delay.”
“Assumptions?” she gasped, puffing up as if she were about to begin her greatest diatribe ever. Darcy was not about to stand still for that, or Miss Elizabeth Bennet would surely escape him completely. He hurried out the door, which was certain to only set the woman off further. Thankfully, he would not be there to hear it.
Hurrying to the stable, Darcy quickly saddled his own horse, mounted it, and cantered all the way to the cabin. Their coach was already waiting outside, and as he approached the three women were just closing the door as they prepared to depart.
Darcy jumped down from his steed and hurried over, taking Elizabeth’s hands and drawing her aside. The other ladies, seeing this, were quick to get into the coach so they would not be in the way, he was happy to note.
“Lizzy, what is this all about?” he asked, giving both hands a squeeze. “I know that we quarreled, but it is not necessary for you to leave. If you do not wish to hear more from me, that is understandable, but must you deprive everyone else of your company?”
“Sir, I must,” she insisted, looking away from him emphatically.
“If you must leave, will you at least take this with you to read when you are alone?” he pleaded, reaching into his pocket and producing the folded and sealed note.
“Sir, are you not the one so very concerned with propriety?” she complained, her eyes widening at his bold gesture incredulously. “How should I receive a letter from you?”
“It is not a letter, my dear,” he reminded her, smiling. “It has never gone through the post. I am certain you must have some little area where it can be concealed directly.”
“And if I do not want it, sir? What then?”
“Please, please do not be that way,” he said. “Do not worry that it contains any repeat of the sentiments I expressed to you last evening—it does not. It is, however, important that you do not share this particular story with anybody. Will you receive it and promise me?”
Elizabeth blushed as she finally looked into his eyes, and she said, “I will promise, sir. None but my own eyes.”
Unable to contain himself, Darcy brought her hands to his lips, one, and then the other. The second, he flipped over so that he might kiss her pulse, which he discovered to be beating just as rapidly as his own.
“Goodbye, Mr. Darcy,” she said as she took the letter and stuffed it as far down her décolletage as possible. Then she quickly moved away.
He followed her, of course, for what gentleman would not assist a lady into her coach? Though thinking how much happier the note must be than he was himself was certainly most ungentlemanly, and he mentally scolded himself.
“I shall be returning to see Bingley quite soon,” he told her as he helped her up. “Perhaps we will be better able to talk there.”
“Sir, I do not know,” she replied, wiping at a tear in her eye.
The action bit into his heart, and he had to force himself not to tug her right back out again. “You know we must not quarrel anymore, Elizabeth. Your sister is likely to marry my best friend. I fear we shall be much put together if that event occurs.”
“Sir, I must go,” she said, and this was the only answer he was given before she reached up to open the communication door. “Drive on, please! Please, just go!”
∞∞∞
Of course, once Darcy was out of her sight, Elizabeth began to cry openly, though she had tried greatly to conceal her distress.
“Lizzy?” Charlotte exclaimed. “You would not speak to me about last night, and now you are crying after seeing the very gentleman you have sworn off. Which is it to be, dearest? We can certainly go back if you are so distressed at leaving him behind.”
“It does me no good at all to see him in this setting,” she said, sniffling. “Not while he is expected to dance attendance upon his cousin—and even to marry her! I cannot bear another moment. I have been a fool to think my attraction was so casual that I could endure it. But not now! Not now that I know him better! For he has told me, in no uncertain terms, that Mr. Wickham has issued an abominable falsehood. He was indeed given an inheritan
ce and used it up in less than a year! Oh, such mean outrage I have caused him! Surely he shall want nothing more to do with me after making such an accusation in my ignorance.”
Charlotte scoffed. “If Mr. Darcy is feeling ill used and wishes never to see you again, he most certainly has an unusual way of showing it—by rushing over and attempting to stop your departure. It is much more like he wishes to receive your apologies and issue a few of his own. Truly, it would be far better that you return to him than to let the discord grow apace.”
“I gained very little rest in the night,” said Elizabeth. “I believe I shall try to sleep now. And you do not mind that I wish to see my aunt and uncle in London before we are to return to Longbourn? For Aunt Gardiner invited me to come by, and I should not wish to disappoint her despite leaving earlier than she expected me to.”
“Of course, we must go to her,” Charlotte insisted. “For you will not hear my words, and you shall certainly tell none of this to your mother or sisters. If you must seek a bosom upon which to lay your sorrows, that of a woman who has already suffered through her own exciting love story should do well enough.”
“Love story!” Elizabeth protested. “Certainly, you do not believe that?”
“I do, Lizzy,” she told her. “On both sides. Anyone who does not see it has got to be blind. Rest now, dearest. I shall wake you when we reach Cheapside.”
Elizabeth did her best to sleep, yet the temptation of the letter tucked in among the lace at her breast weighed heavily upon her. She could not possibly open the missive while in company, since the other two would only hope to learn details of what was written, yet it would be hours before she could have a chance to be alone.
Surely the Gardiners would willingly give the two girls rooms for however long they might wish to remain in London. Elizabeth had been invited to visit them often enough, but until taking an early leave of Rosings and saying nothing of it to her father, the independence to simply go without permission had never allowed her attendance.
Now, though she knew her father may not desire her presence in town, she would at last have a chance to enter at least a small part of the place and have a look around. Of course, she reminded herself, if she were to actually marry Mr. Darcy, she would certainly be able to have much more interaction there, since she understood London to be a place he spent roughly half the year.
But no—had she not already refused his offer? And had he not said this letter contained no renewal of last night’s sentiments? It was most unwise of her to believe he might renew his address if he had not done so already. Though she greatly desired the gentleman, maybe even loved him as Charlotte believed, it could do nothing but hurt her more to entertain any such ideas now. Surely Darcy was lost to her. What gentleman, having once been refused, would ever bend to the notion of asking a lady a second time?
She must not continue to think on it or she would once again be reduced to tears. Why, oh why, had she tried so hard to convince herself that her nervousness around the gentleman had been founded in dislike? That the butterflies in her belly, which even now protested their loss, had been present as a warning, and not a good sign? For now she must surely repent her folly at her leisure.
Oh, how soon until I can see my aunt and have a proper cry? she despaired in her mind. But to those who rode with her, she hoped her countenance had the appearance of being serene. Charlotte may well be right about the love, but she could not understand the difficulties that came with it. Elizabeth’s heart hurt so much she wondered how she would ever survive.
Though she was pleased to see her aunt, she was not nearly as forthcoming about her early departure as she had expected to be. For, until she knew what Darcy had written, she could not impart the whole of the story—or at least those parts to which her aunt might be made privy. Instead, she told her all about Rosings, and Lady Catherine, saying very little of Anne, Fitzwilliam, or Mr. Darcy, until at length the evening finally came to a close.
When at last she read his note, it was not specifically of Mr. Wickham that he spoke of, but rather his younger sister, Georgiana, and her tragic dealings with that gentleman. Elizabeth’s eyes were opened to Wickham’s true depravity now, having learned of his desire to elope with the young girl, who had barely been fifteen years old when it happened.
“Well, thank goodness Darcy managed to stop Wickham,” she said out loud, wiping at the tears forming in her eyes. “I was so wrong! I have doubted a man who is more honorable than any other in my eyes. If it had been me, I should never have purchased Wickham’s entry into the army after everything he did. Truly, Darcy is the best of men! What an utter fool I have been!”
Chapter Nineteen
When Mrs. Gardiner entreated the girls to stay for a week, neither Charlotte nor Elizabeth felt the least bit inclined to tell her no. After the visit at Rosings, which had been too nerve-racking for words with the staunch and proper, demanding and fleetingly benevolent Lady Catherine daily holding her court as she did, both of them were very much in need of a reprieve. They wished to enjoy a real vacation before returning to Meryton.
This might seem a difficult accomplishment, since they possessed four small children, yet Elizabeth certainly did not mind it. The young gentlemen were her delight, as they lived quite near a small creek where they daily went to capture frogs and attempt to scare the ladies. But the frogs did not concern Elizabeth, who often enjoyed capturing them herself.
As all good things must come to an end, the day arrived at last when they were meant to take their leave. Not for the first time did Elizabeth wish she could spend a great deal more time with them.
Mr. Gardiner apparently must have felt the same way, for as they were eating breakfast he asked her, “Lizzy? What would you think of accompanying your aunt and I to the Lakes this summer? I’ve been given a bit of time off from work, and we will be giving the children into the care of your sister, Jane, in another two weeks. It would be beyond wonderful if you would consent to come with us there.”
“Indeed, yes,” Mrs. Gardiner agreed. “What a splendid idea. And it might help you to get over whatever the sad turn of events that brought you to us may have been.”
Elizabeth grimaced. “I had thought that the trouble upon my brow had gone unnoticed. However, I must agree with you, my difficulty is great indeed. But what are men to rocks and trees? The beauty of such a place must surely remind me of my own insignificance by comparison. It is a lesson which is long overdue.”
“Careful, my dear, that speaks very much of bitterness,” her aunt cautioned her.
“Yes? Well, I suppose I have every right to feel bitter, since I can blame only myself for my ills.” She sighed. “Would that I knew better how to listen to my heart instead of my head, I might be quite happy at this moment. But there is nothing for it. I shall simply have to endure my suffering, as must we all. I do believe the coach should be ready soon, and Charlotte and I must prepare to go. I shall see you in two weeks, and believe me when I tell you I will be more than ready to depart.”
“Indeed, Lizzy, I do hope whatever is wrong shall soon be sorted out, but if our journey will in any way help, I shall be pleased to know it, my dear.”
The butler stepped into the room. “The coach is now loaded, Miss Bennet, Miss Lucas. The driver is awaiting you now.”
“Thank you, Cosgrove,” Elizabeth replied. “We shall shortly be out.”
“Oh, Lizzy!” her aunt exclaimed, getting to her feet even as Elizabeth was doing the same. “I cannot wait for our adventure to begin. You’ll feel much better for it, you will see.”
“Thank you, Aunt, for all your hospitality.”
But if she had believed her mind troubled before reaching Longbourn, she was in for a much greater shock when she came through the door. Her mother, in high dudgeon, was sitting in the parlor crying profusely.
“Mama? Whatever is the matter?”
“Oh, Lizzy, it is the worst possible news—and the best, too, I suppose,” she blubbered. “Oh, but it
cannot reflect well on you, my dear.”
“What has happened?” she wanted to know.
“I’ve just had the most appalling letter from Colonel Forster, and it is the most shocking news! Lydia has run away—she has gone off to Gretna Green and married Mr. Wickham, the young officer from Bingley’s ball. Oh, it cannot look good for the rest of you girls to have such an impulsive sister!”
Elizabeth sat down, hard. She blinked a few times as she allowed her mother’s words to sink in to her already addled brain. Lydia, married to that fiend, Wickham? But how could it be? How could she have escaped from the Forsters so easily? And why would a fortune hunter want anything to do with her?
“Tell me everything,” she demanded, shaking her head in dismay. “I do not understand how this could be.”
