The Very Essence of Love

by Andreea Catana

  “Are you going for a walk later on?” Darcy asked Georgiana, determined to overcome her silence. Georgiana nodded, avoiding his gaze. “I thought I should accompany you. I shall make an effort to end my business in town as soon as possible.”

  The suggestion was met with further silence from his sister; it was unequivocally clear that she was not interested, more so, he felt her to be intent on refusing him. Even Miss Bennet seemed to notice the strangeness of the situation, as she politely answered Darcy’s further questions on behalf of Georgiana, while looking encouragingly at her friend. Darcy attempted other subjects of conversation, but all of them were met with the same indifference.

  The situation lasted until Georgiana excused herself quite abruptly, leaving Darcy dumbfounded. Miss Bennet sought some excuse for Georgiana’s behaviour to relieve the tension in the room; her efforts were welcome but not enough to ease Darcy’s fears that there was more he was not aware of.

  “Miss Bennet, please be honest with me, has my sister shared with you, perhaps in confidence, the nature of her aversion towards me?” Jane blushed, strangely touched by Mr. Darcy’s suffering in the face of his sister’s rejection. “No, sir. I am afraid she has not, but I have noted her predisposition towards you.”

  Darcy put down the fork and leaned back in the chair defeated, “I do not understand. At first, I thought her uneasiness was just my imagination.”

  “Perhaps it is to do with the new medicine the doctor gave her; I know that sometimes she feels ill-disposed after taking it.”

  Darcy shook his head. “No. It is not the case.” Acknowledging Jane’s intent, he went on. “Miss Bennet, I appreciate you trying to comfort me, but I do not think it has anything to do with it. There is something else.” He was not angry, yet his voice sounded displeased, as though strange thoughts had gathered inside his head to offer him the solution to what was going on. When he spoke, it appeared to be more for himself than for his company. “Georgiana was like this only once before. It was when…”

  “I do not understand, Mr. Darcy,” Jane spoke timidly not sure whether she should make her curiosity known.

  “Please, excuse me, Miss Bennet. I am struggling to make sense of it all. I care for Georgiana deeply and if there is something that torments her, I need to find out what it is.”

  Jane nodded gently, allowing Mr. Darcy to leave the dining room. He directed himself to Georgiana’s chamber, knocking on the door without a response. The noise on the other side of the door told him she was aware of his presence. At last, Darcy desisted and left the house altogether.

  When he returned to the house several hours later, he found Georgiana had a visitor. He recognised Miss Bingley’s voice before Mrs. Annesley could inform him about the identity of the young lady in the drawing-room. He pondered for a moment whether he should join them or head to his study and decided on the former.

  “Mr. Darcy, I was hoping to see you,” Miss Bingley exclaimed with much gusto as soon as she saw him enter the room. “You must convince Miss Darcy to join me at the theatre tomorrow night.”

  Darcy looked at his sister, who, as usual, managed to remove her gaze from his with an uncomfortable expression. When he spoke, his voice was resigned.

  “Unfortunately, Miss Bingley, I cannot force my sister to do anything she does not wish to do.”

  Unaware of the tension between the siblings, Miss Bingley pressed on, “But I do believe she will enjoy it greatly. Everyone speaks so warmly of the new play, even if it is said to be a French one, quite unpatriotic if you think about it. But she could also benefit from other company as well. I would certainly die of boredom if I had to spend my time with only one person all day.”

  The last remark was added with a sideways glance at Jane who sat on the sofa listening to the conversation. She was mortified, but her good nature prevented her from replying in the manner such a remark deserved.

  However, to Miss Bingley’s surprise, Mr. Darcy uttered, “We are honoured to have Miss Bennet as our guest here. I do not know how Georgiana would have coped without her presence. We consider ourselves to be forever indebted to her.”

  Jane thanked him with a smile, truly grateful for his words.

  Miss Bingley resented Mr. Darcy’s favourable answer, yet managed to hide her displeasure, aware it was not to her advantage to antagonise either Mr. Darcy or Miss Darcy by continuing her attack so directly.

  Instead, she turned her attention to Miss Darcy, who was holding in her hands the pair of gloves Miss Bingley had brought her earlier and complemented both the fabric and the execution. The rest of the afternoon proceeded with ease in the discussion of trivial subjects between the two young ladies, almost as a private conversation entirely. It was due to the success of such intimacy that Georgiana Darcy agreed to play a piano piece before the small audience. Her fingers were still trembling when she first started, but the encouraging look of Miss Bennet gave her strength to continue and soon the sound filled the drawing-room pleasantly. After the impromptu performance, Miss Darcy was still seated at the pianoforte as another conversation started nearby, spurred by the realisation on Miss Bingley’s part that her friend Miss Darcy relied a little too much for support on Miss Bennet.

  The first one to speak was Miss Bingley.

  “And how is your sister, Miss Elizabeth? Is she still in town?”

  “No, she has returned to Longbourn,” Jane replied, without realising Darcy’s keen interest in her words, though Miss Bingley picked up on it at once.

  “Oh, yes!” Miss. Bingley feigned remembrance. “Mr. Darcy, we saw Miss Elizabeth at Lady Pollock’s party if I am not mistaken, just this past week?”

  Mr. Darcy confirmed that he had indeed seen Miss Elizabeth but kept quiet about how much it had cost him to have seen her that night. He had been tormented ever since. His fists tightened unconsciously, while he moved near the mantlepiece, further from the ladies, trying to regain his composure.

  His detachment might have given Miss Bingley hope that she was on the right track. “I am sure,” she said, “that only the most important of matters have urged Miss Elizabeth to return to Meryton as soon as possible. Of course, she will miss the entertainment of the capital, for I have never seen such fine amusements as I have seen here, but there, I imagine, she will find other ways to divert herself. Of course, she may have her friends in the militia, as I recall. Especially one particular gentleman officer,” she ended, almost in a whisper.

  Jane did not answer, unsure how to respond to such an insinuation, and lowered her head as Miss Bingley put down her cup of coffee, determined to deliver the last blow.

  “Is Mr. Wickham still in Meryton?”

  The mention of that name must have reached Miss Darcy and her brother. and their reactions could not have been more different. Miss Darcy stopped the music in the room unexpectedly. She went suddenly pale and stood up, clutching the edge of the piano for support. Mr. Darcy’s countenance expressed dismay and fury at the same time. Miss Bingley met his gaze with repentance but it was not enough.

  “Are you well, Miss Darcy?” Jane asked, hurrying to help her friend. Darcy did the same, but his intent was received less warmly, so he allowed his sister’s friend to be of service.

  “Yes,” Miss Darcy answered in an almost inaudible voice, “I think I just need some rest.”

  Darcy suggested at once that it would indeed be best for his sister to retire to her chamber to rest and watched closely as she left the drawing-room alongside Miss Bennet. Miss Bingley said nothing further to the ladies other than the usual words of farewell, but when their footsteps faded down the hall she regained her voice, saying what she thought should be said in that moment to gain her host’s instant forgiveness.

  “Mr. Darcy, I feel I am at fault for what has happened. My visit has fatigued dear Georgiana extensively and I feel it is best if I leave.”

  The effect of her calculated words was the opposite of what she had expected. Darcy offered her no words of comfort, continuing to lo
ok furiously at her. His eyes reflected disappointment, a nuance that did not go unnoticed by Miss Bingley.

  “Miss Bingley,” he spoke at last, “I feel there was something else in particular that fatigued my sister. Your words of imprudence.”

  “I am not sure I understand, Mr. Darcy,” she said in an almost stammering voice.” On this account, Mr. Darcy knew she was right. Miss Bingley was unaware of how she had caused harm by mentioning Mr. Wickham’s name and he was not going to explain himself.

  “Your words of imprudence towards other people. I speak here of Miss Bennet, who has been the target of your incessant attack.”

  Miss Bingley contested his words, striving to be convincing, but it was in vain, for Mr. Darcy spoke with even more vehemence.

  “I have always suspected that you did not like Miss Benent and tonight it has become quite obvious. I know that women often employ techniques to cause each other harm, use words and intelligence acquired from other people to hurt, but I shall not tolerate it in my house.”

  “I thought we were in agreement about Miss Bennet,” she almost whispered, unable to find other arguments.

  “And I was utterly wrong about her. And about so many other things. Miss Jane Bennet has shown nothing but kindness towards my sister. She is a most honourable woman, a selfless creature that I find I am fortunate to know.”

  “You cannot say that, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley spoke, determined this time to defend herself. “You know that Miss Bennet has other interests. She seeks….”

  “And what might they be? Spending her nights awake looking after my sister? Not employing her time anywhere other than to care for someone unrelated to her. Oh yes, those are just the interests I am aware of. As far as your brother is concerned, I must say I deeply regret my involvement in advising him against Miss Bennet. If I am to give myself some excuse, I must say that it was done with a view to protecting him from an unequal marriage.”

  “And you were right, Mr. Darcy! Have you forgotten Miss Bennet’s family? Can you expect my brother to stand it? You surely remember how ridiculous they all are! How willing the mother is to procure marriage for her daughters! And then the sisters… superficial, vain, loud and impertinent…”

  “Vanity, superficiality, and impertinence are flaws I have seen in other ladies also, Miss Bingley, even if they were not aware of them themselves. It is so easy to judge someone when you have little knowledge of them,” Darcy interrupted, knowing she had carefully chosen her words to inflict harm on him as well. Miss Bingley was stunned beyond words with what she heard, mortified by the truth thrown at her.

  “Now, if you will excuse me, I shall call a carriage for you, Miss Bingley. I do believe it is late and I would not want your brother to worry about you.”

  Miss Bingley bid her farewell and left the house in tears, although Darcy was not sure how many of them were for his benefit. As soon as he saw her carriage depart, he retired to his study to ponder all that had happened and had been said. When he finally finished reviewing the afternoon, he sat down at his desk and began writing a letter.

  “My dear Charles…

  Chapter 17

  On the following day, the doctor called to see Miss Darcy again. He came around noon, saw his patient and after prescribing some invigorating remedy, declared that her recovery was a complete success. Mrs. Annesley shed some tears over the good news, while Jane embraced Georgiana with the happiness such a moment deserved.

  Mr. Darcy learned the details of what had happened when he returned home later on that day. He had joined Colonel Fitzwilliam in a visit to Lord Huxley, whose daughter had caught the Colonel’s attention recently. Wilhelmina Huxley was a charming creature of eighteen years, and although she could hardly be described as a beauty, had impressed his cousin to such an extent that he had even decided to ask Darcy for his opinion. She was also the only heiress of Lord Huxley, and her dowry amounted to 25,000 pounds, something the Colonel found was more than agreeable too.

  “So, what do you say, Darcy? Is she not a glorious young lady?” he asked once they had departed from the Earl’s house.

  Darcy confessed that the young lady had impressed him as well, for she was natural and spoke without affectation; she had seemed sincere and joyful. The colonel felt satisfied with the answer but insisted Darcy paid more compliments.

  “I see that you are quite taken with her, cousin!”

  “By Jupiter, I do not think I have seen someone lovelier. I mean, I am a gentleman of some experience, but the moment I saw her I realised she was unlike anyone else. Has anything like this ever happened to you, Darcy?”

  “Anything like what?” Darcy asked, fully understanding his cousin’s meaning.

  “You know, to look at a young lady and understand that they are…” The colonel strove to find the right words to convey what he was feeling but found only one so banal that it sounded vague…. “Special.”

  Darcy said nothing but smiled, amused with the way his cousin phrased his sentence. However, the Colonel insisted on a response.

  “Come, Darcy, do not be such a bore. Humour me! Without looking at his cousin, fully aware he was not speaking the truth, Darcy replied, “I… I …am not sure!”

  “You are not sure! Certainly you are jesting me! What about that “pair of fine eyes?” Darcy looked at him in surprise and gave a laugh.

  “Miss Elizabeth?”

  “The same one. And do not act so surprised, for I have seen myself how you looked at her at Rosings. Not to mention that she was the only one who succeeded in pulling you out of your misery when we all strove in vain. I must admit she does have more than a pair of fine eyes. She has wit.”

  “Indeed, she has,” Darcy replied, as Elizabeth’s face passed through his mind again.

  “It is a pity that her family is not well-connected,” the Colonel chose his words with care. “It hardly makes her a first choice for marriage, no matter how charming she is. I must confess I found her delightful at Rosings, especially how she stood up to Lady Catherine and you.”

  “Miss Elizabeth is the first-choice for me, I am not hers, however.” Instead of revealing his thoughts to his cousin, Darcy spoke, “Why is it so important for one’s family to be well-connected? If you marry for love, then it will be all worth it.”

  “Love?” the Colonel said, amused. “I believe this is the first time that I have heard you say that word. And to answer your question: perhaps, although you must be sure of the love she brings. For if it is just mere passion, that passes quickly and you are left only with the ashes of your soul.”

  “So, am I to understand you would not agree with me marrying someone who is not my equal, even though she is the daughter of a gentleman of lesser means?”

  The Colonel sighed, “You yourself have the answer to that. I personally find it to be a game of chance. If your union is a success, it was all worth it, but if it turns out to be a disaster, could you stand a lifetime of suffering?”

  Darcy had no answer to give his cousin.

  Before supper, Miss Bennet announced to both Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy that she was set on returning the following morning to Gracechurch Street to be with her aunt and uncle Gardiner, seeing that her purpose in the house had come to an end. Her words brought Georgiana to tears, but she had no other choice than to accept them. Jane assured her that they would continue to remain friends and renewed her promise to write as often as possible, assuring her of her affection and loyalty.

  When it was all agreed, Georgiana returned to her chamber to prepare for dinner. It gave Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet an unexpected moment alone in the drawing-room; Mr. Darcy was near the window looking out at the carriages and the people in the street, with a hopeful look on his countenance.

  From time to time, he looked at Miss Bennet and saw her content with her needlework. Since the conversation with his cousin, there had been so many things passing through his mind, demanding an answer. As difficult as it might have been, he needed to know. His nervousness was becomin
g evident.

  “Miss Bennet,” he spoke, turning from the window, “have you had any news from your sister?”

  Jane smiled shyly, intimidated by the sudden attempt at conversation. “I am afraid not, sir, it’s been too short a time to receive a letter. And I expect my sister to send her correspondence to Gracechurch Street.”

  “Yes, quite right!” Darcy nodded. “Miss Bennet, I know that we have had no time to talk about what happened yesterday with Miss Bingley, but I feel I need to apologise on her behalf.”

  “There is no need for such a gesture, Mr. Darcy. Perhaps she did not intend it.”

  “I am afraid she did. She wished to hurt you by implying some relationship to a person she knew is not of my preference.”

  “I understand, sir. I do not claim to excuse what she did, but I fear that Mr. Wickham’s acquaintance with our family has played well in her interest.”

  Darcy looked severely at Jane and spoke, “You agree with Mr. Wickham then?” Jane blushed, remembering the conversation she had with Elizabeth who told her about Mr. Wickham’s past. Elizabeth had been much more taken by his story than she was. Before she had time to decide on her response, he spoke again, “I shall not go into details, but I am aware that Mr. Wickham has managed to ingratiate himself with people of worth by pretending he has been a victim of my actions.”

  “Yes, he has,” Jane answered simply, spotting the pain her words gave Mr. Darcy. “But I also know that people can misrepresent or exaggerate things to their own advantage. I personally do not lend my ear to stories about people, especially when they are told with the intent of causing harm.

  “What about your sister? Does she believe him?”

  “My sister is clever, and yes, he did manage to secure her compassion, but do trust in Lizzy,” Jane pleaded, without realising that she used such familiarity in her words. “I have known her all my life and never found her to be steady in her errors for too long. It is one of the traits that I can always count on.”