The Very Essence of Love

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The Very Essence of Love Page 8

by Andreea Catana


  His words entered Elizabeth’s soul. They were as surprising to her as his appearance had been and Elizabeth did not really have the time to think on how she felt. Mr. Darcy continued to look at her, caught up in her incredulous gaze as he drew nearer to her. Before Elizabeth realised what was happening, his hands touched her hands and she heard him continuing to speak, “Miss Elizabeth,” he whispered, “I am declaring my love for you,” Mr. Darcy’s voice trailed away as though it had suddenly become impossible to utter what he wished to say. “I have thought long and hard… and I think that nothing would give me more pleasure than to ask for your hand in marriage.”

  “I must confess, Mr. Darcy, that I am not sure I understand you,” Elizabeth responded, once she was able to speak again, retracting her hands from his grasp. Once the shock of the moment had passed, she felt new sentiments rising in her, quite opposed to her initial reaction of bewilderment. Darcy looked at her hesitantly. It was blindingly obvious he had not been expecting such a reply.

  “What more clarification can I offer you, Miss Elizabeth?”

  “I am confused as to your reasons, sir. One instant you are ready to think ill of my family, believing they are all scheming creatures of the foulest kind, and the next you propose marriage to me. I, who am part of that family. What makes you think then that I am better than them?”

  “Because I know you are. I never believed you to be like them.” Elizabeth felt her cheeks burning both from the compliment paid to her and the subtle insult to her family. “And I love you.”

  His renewed declaration of love moved Elizabeth even more than it did the first time she heard it. Mr. Darcy’s voice sounded sincere and she was positive he was also being truthful about his feelings. She felt so much and was so afraid that her countenance would betray her emotions. But she could not allow it. Even more she was afraid that she would respond positively, on an impulse, to his marriage proposal only to regret it later.

  “Mr. Darcy,” she spoke when she was sure she had regained her composure, “you surely realise that if I were to accept your proposal of marriage, I would have to tell my sister my reasons for marrying the man who destroyed her chance of happiness. I am not sure how that would make me a better person.”

  “Is this your manner of mocking me? Of laughing at my folly?” His voice betrayed now a new emotion of uneasiness, as he remembered her conversation with his cousin.

  Elizabeth spoke more softly, determined to give her thoughts with clarity, “I am trying to say, Mr. Darcy, that I do not know how to reconcile you, this man who proclaims his love for me, with the one who harms people deliberately.”

  “People?” he repeated, “We are not speaking of only Miss Bennet, I feel.”

  “No.”

  Darcy paused as his expression gave way to another of utter disgust. “It is about Mr. Wickham as well. Do you have feelings for him, Miss Elizabeth?”

  “Mr. Darcy, I find it impertinent that you should ask me that question. I speak because I wish to know who you are.”

  “As it is, it seems I am someone of whom you have a poor impression.” Elizabeth shook her head, ready to deny such a claim. But she could do little as Mr. Darcy drew near her once again, as though determined to make her listen to him at all costs. This time he grabbed her hand with much more force than the first time, pulling her to him.

  “I shall not speak of Mr. Wickham for there is little I wish to remember about that man. You are free to believe all you want about me, but at least, I have deceived no one with my honesty.”

  Elizabeth was about to say something, but she desisted and freed herself from his grasp without saying a word. Darcy bowed his head and was ready to depart from her company when he heard, “Darcy!”

  Elizabeth knew it was Colonel Fitzwilliam’s voice. She saw him at once. He was riding a black horse and had brought another one with him, which she immediately recognised to be Mr. Darcy’s. The Colonel looked at her furtively, and Elizabeth wondered what he could be thinking of her presence there.

  “I have been looking everywhere for you, Darcy!” the Colonel spoke in agitation, leading Elizabeth to understand her distress was of lesser importance. He dismounted the horse at once and directed himself to where his cousin and Elizabeth were standing.

  “I have received a letter from London. We have to return there! At once.” The anguish on the Colonel’s face was now visible and Elizabeth knew that the events that required Mr. Darcy’s presence in London were of a most serious nature. Darcy seemed to have understood also.

  Elizabeth watched Mr. Darcy impatiently read the contents of the correspondence, hoping to at least understand the nature of the urgency, but only saw his countenance changing as he read the words. Only then did Elizabeth realise that Colonel Fitzwilliam betrayed the same worry on his face. Once the letter was read, Darcy simply bowed to Elizabeth and turned towards his horse.

  “Colonel Fitzwilliam, please…” Elizabeth managed to say, “tell me what has happened.”

  “It’s Darcy’s sister, Georgiana. She has fallen ill.” It was all Elizabeth could learn, as in the next instant the Colonel had followed his cousin and disappeared from her sight.

  Elizabeth returned to the Parsonage, hoping that Mr. Collins could provide more clarity on the subject. Unfortunately, he could not, for he had not visited Lady Catherine that day and was not intending to do so. The subject was widely debated amongst the party. Elizabeth withheld the information of how she had come to be in possession of such information and pleaded with Mr. Collins to help her find an answer. Mr. Collins acceded to his wife’s pleas and went to Rosings Park, against his wishes, to gather intelligence.

  While he was gone, Elizabeth thought of all the possible scenarios that might have happened to Miss Darcy, but she had no proof that she was correct about any of them. Charlotte offered her a calming tea, but not even that helped her.

  “If anything had happened to Jane as well, Mr. Darcy would have told me, would he not?” she told herself. “He would not have left me here to endure this torment of not knowing about my sister’s fate.”

  Mr. Collins returned after an hour, but his information proved useless. Lady Catherine had revealed little of what had happened to her niece, saying that it was either a cold or a malady that young ladies of a certain upbringing were prone to. Elizabeth spent the chief part of her night thinking on the subject, in a state of agitation. She feared the arrival of an urgent messenger and in the morning when she woke up, she announced that she had to return to London as soon as possible.

  Chapter 11

  Elizabeth rushed up the steps to the Gardiner house as soon as the carriage stopped.

  A servant opened the door and Elizabeth entered hurriedly into the hall, calling for her aunt. Aunt Gardiner appeared from the drawing-room where the sounds of the twins could be heard, but before Elizabeth could ask her anything, she was taken to one of the chambers upstairs. She refused all offers of refreshments and asked to be informed about Jane immediately.

  “Jane is not in the house, Lizzy,” Aunt Gardiner informed her, assuring her that her sister was not in danger. Elizabeth felt for the first time that she could breathe easily again and waited for her aunt to continue. “She is at Miss Darcy’s house. She has been staying there for the past two days taking care of her.”

  “Tell me what has happened, Aunt. Please relieve me of this torment and spare me no details. I am prepared to hear whatever is to be learned.”

  “We do not know either, my dearest. Your sister sent us a note on the day that it happened that Miss Darcy had fallen ill after returning from the property of Lady Matlock. It was all so sudden. Miss Darcy fainted almost as soon as she arrived at her house and no one had a clear explanation of the reason.”

  “What did the doctor say? Surely, Miss Darcy has been seen by a doctor.”

  Aunt Gardiner sighed. “Yes, she has been seen numerous times, yet no one can specify what the nature of Miss Darcy’s condition is. She is caught up with a sort of f
everish illness and cannot eat. Nor does she speak. Jane has remained with her all along.”

  “Poor Jane,” Elizabeth exclaimed, sitting at last defeated on the bed. “I have been so worried. For a moment I thought I would go mad with worry.” Elizabeth looked with guilt at her aunt and added, “Do you think that what Miss Darcy has can be unsafe for my sister as well?”

  “We have thought the same, Lizzy, but Jane insists there is nothing to fear on her account. I do not know what to say,” Aunt Gardiner answered, taking Lizzy’s hands into her own. “All we can do is pray that whatever Miss Darcy is afflicted with shall pass.”

  “I wish to see Jane,” Elizabeth sprung up, “I need to make sure she is well.”

  “Lizzy, we cannot go there.”

  “Why not?” Elizabeth exclaimed with pain.

  “How can we? It is not our house to go uninvited or at least unannounced. This is not Hertfordshire, Lizzy!”

  “I do not care. I need to see Jane.”

  “And you shall see her, I promise. I shall send a servant to take your message to Jane. Meanwhile, you shall take some time to rest and eat something for it appears you have not had anything in a long time.”

  Elizabeth was unconvinced; however, she could do very little under the circumstances. She scribbled a short note to Jane in which she announced that she had returned to London and dearly wished to see her sister. The urgency of the matter allowed her to write nothing more and her aunt summoned a servant to deliver the message to Berkeley Square.

  Elizabeth took a few nibbles of some cheese that had been brought for her and drank the coffee. Once the liquid entered her body, Elizabeth started to feel much warmer and only then did she realise that she was trembling. She ate more cheese and some bread, upon the advice of her aunt, but it was all that her stomach could force itself to take as her mind was still filled with questions she had no answer for. After she had changed out of her travelling clothes, Elizabeth sat by the window watching for the carriage her aunt had dispatched to take the message to return home.

  When it finally arrived, Elizabeth was the first one downstairs to meet the servant. The maid informed her and the Gardiners, who had joined her, that she had seen Miss Jane for a few moments, that she looked well and had sent a message in response. Elizabeth did not even wait for the maid to finish speaking, but grabbed the note and opened it.

  Dearest Lizzy,

  It gives me comfort to know that you have arrived safely in London and I am distraught to find that you have been worried for my sake. I assure you that I am in good health so please do not worry on that account. However, Miss Darcy is so poorly that it shatters my soul that I cannot do more to help her.

  I have spoken to Colonel Fitzwilliam and he has allowed me to invite you to come tomorrow at your convenience. I know you wish to come this moment but I feel it is advisable that you take the night to rest. Please rest Lizzy, it would ease my heart.

  Your loving sister,

  Jane

  Elizabeth put the letter down, only for it to be read once again by Mr. Gardiner who expressed cautious optimism about the situation. Elizabeth knew he was pretending for her own sake, but she was so tired she could barely acknowledge his generosity. Instead, she started to sob, overcome with the tiredness of the last two days, spent in the utmost anguish. She found herself pulled into Mrs. Gardiner’s embrace, who comforted her as a parent would comfort a dear child.

  When she woke again in the morning, Elizabeth felt a new life had been given to her after a night’s sleep. She dressed in haste and descended to the dining room, hoping she would meet her aunt. The Gardiners were there with their children, eating breakfast. Elizabeth, who had not spoken to her cousins since she arrived, entertained them with stories of her journey, keeping to herself all the unpleasant parts. Jasper, Eva and Annabella’s dog, was larger now, but still as mischievous as he had been when she left, sneaking through the open door to hide under the table for crumbs and anything else the twins could dispose of.

  Breakfast was soon over and Mr. Gardiner, who had business in town, announced to Elizabeth he would be taking her to see her sister then proceed to his appointment. Mrs. Gardiner expressed her regret in not accompanying her due to some previous arrangement and gave Elizabeth her blessings for returning with much better news than the day before.

  Mr. Gardiner accompanied Elizabeth to the address, and on arriving there, he instructed the driver to wait.

  At the house, they were greeted by a footman who introduced them into the drawing-room. Mrs. Annesley arrived almost immediately, letting them know Jane would be arriving shortly. Jane soon followed and the joy of the reunion could not have been expressed in words. Elizabeth scrutinised her sister’s countenance, looking for signs of illness, but other than tiredness there was nothing to alarm her. Jane kissed her sister’s palms with affection and after they were seated, the conversation began.

  “Miss Darcy has had her first night without high fever,” Jane spoke with much enthusiasm. “The doctor has seen her, and he says that it is an indication of recovery very soon.”

  “Has he still no idea what happened to Miss Darcy?” Mr. Gardiner asked before Elizabeth could ask the same.

  “No. He says that since there are no evident signs of physical harm, or any illness that he is aware of, he is of the opinion that it must be something caused by her mind.”

  “How odd,” Mr. Gardiner exclaimed, most puzzled. “I have never heard of such a thing before.”

  Elizabeth, who had been pondering all the things she heard said, “He thinks Miss Darcy may have suffered a shock of some sort?”

  Jane nodded. “Miss Darcy has not spoken a word since all of this occurred. And I fear that until Miss Darcy recovers, all we can do is speculate. The doctor has instructed me to speak to her with kind words and read her positive things. He says that it will help Miss Darcy to recover her spirits, for the medicine can only help her with the fever. Unfortunately, no one knows really what else can be done for her.”

  The clock in the drawing-room reminded Mr. Gardiner of his appointment and, excusing himself from the presence of the ladies, he left the room. Once they were alone, Elizabeth felt she could ask much more of what she wanted to know.

  “Tell me how you have really been, Jane! I have been so worried about you.”

  “Oh, Lizzy, you are the loveliest sister anyone could ever ask for. I did not know you worried so much on my account because there was no need. Say your prayers for Miss Darcy. She really needs them. And, if I am to be honest, Mr. Darcy also.”

  “Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth looked at her sister puzzled. “What has happened to Mr. Darcy?”

  Jane sighed. “Lizzy, I hope you will believe me when I tell you that I have never seen a man care for his sister so deeply as he does. When he arrived at the house, he was disconcerted, he did not sleep at all, standing outside Miss Darcy’s room all night. But during the last two days, he has….” Jane paused not sure how to phrase what she wanted to say. “He refuses to come out of his study. This morning, Colonel Fitzwilliam told me he has been in there for two days, not wishing to speak to anyone, and Mrs. Annesley is worried because he has not eaten anything as well. Not even the news of this morning has managed to make him feel encouraged about a happier outcome. The Colonel is discouraged as well because of that.”

  “Mr. Darcy, defeated?” Elizabeth murmured. She had a hard time reconciling the image described by Jane with the man she knew. She sat down on the sofa, pondering what she could do. At last, she untied her bonnet and, looking at Jane, asked, “Tell me, Jane, how I can help?”

  Chapter 12

  Darcy waited a few moments before he opened his eyes, listening to the movements outside his door. A maid followed Mrs. Annesley’s instructions, directing a footman to fetch a carriage, most likely the activities of any other day. Darcy had no idea what time it was nor did he care to find out. He had heard the knocks on the door, but as always ignored them, hoping they would desist quickly from his
lack of reply.

  They always did and only then could he sigh in gratitude that they were not adamant. As long as he could stop them by not replying to anything, Darcy felt that Georgiana was also protected from harm. Seeing her in her chamber, lying there unresponsive, filled him with despair, as if there was a sudden realisation of the world coming to an end.

  “I cannot lose her,” he thought, while he held her cold hand in his. “She is all that I have left. I have no one else but her.” The doctors came and went and yet no one could tell him what had caused Georgiana’s state. It was not only the intrigue of what had provoked it that puzzled him exceedingly, leading him almost to the edge of madness, but also the lack of a cure. “How can you cure an illness when you do not even know what it is?”

  After two nights of agony, of pacing in front of her chamber, of not being able to do anything to help his sister other than sitting with her and listening to the desperate hiss of her breathing, Darcy retreated to his study. He could not bear to hear the words of those around him any longer, false assurances that Georgiana would recover. All of those words seemed insulting. He could not believe them and from then on, he refused to see anyone.

  In the morning, he heard the doctor say to Miss Bennet that it was a good sign Georgiana no longer had the fever, but he could not force himself to stand up and go and see her. What if it was all a lie? What if it had been just an improvement of the moment as happens at times? Doctors had told him the same once before, and still his parents perished nevertheless a few days later. “In this situation, people are prone to say words of compassion that help with nothing, words that they think you need to hear. I do not want them.” Darcy heard new noises inside the hall and recognised at once the voices of Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mrs. Annesley. He knew precisely what they had come here for. But he was determined not to see them, not now at least. The Colonel’s voice was loud and demanding.

 

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