Rocks in the Stream

by Lewis Whelchel

  Asserting herself as mistress, Jane proceeded with the civilities. “Mr. Darcy, please allow me to introduce you to our cousin, Mr. Grinly, and his daughter, Constance. The Grinlys reside in Wiltshire and have been visiting in Hertfordshire since my wedding. Mr. Grinly, Mr. Darcy is my husband’s good friend.”

  Darcy was shocked by Mr. Grinly’s appearance. He was old, so much older than Elizabeth or himself. How could she be wedding herself to a man twice her age? He cleared his throat. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir, and you, also, Miss Grinly.”

  “I am happy to meet you, Mr. Darcy.” Grinly was certain he was not, but could not say why, other than that Elizabeth had reacted very poorly when she saw him.

  Constance honored Mr. Darcy with a low curtsy. Rising up, she touched Elizabeth’s arm.

  Elizabeth realized that everyone was looking at her. She heard Constance when she saw Mr. Darcy and realized that she must have guessed his identity. Elizabeth did not know if Constance had told her father that such a man existed, but she was certain that he would now know that Darcy meant much more to her than a common acquaintance.

  “Mr. Darcy . . . ” Elizabeth’s voice wavered. A chill passed through her body and anguish flashed in her eyes as she spoke the words that condemned her. “Mr. Darcy,” she repeated, “Mr. Grinly and I are to be married.”

  * * * * *

  ELIZABETH’S ANNOUNCEMENT CAME AS NO surprise to Darcy, but somewhere in his heart, he had harbored a self-deluding hope that it was not true. He looked at her with all the intensity of emotion he could spare from the agony he was enduring. His eyes locked onto hers. “You have my congratulations, Miss Bennet.”

  Mr. Grinly looked from Elizabeth to Darcy and back again, wishing for anything that would break their gaze and put an end to whatever was passing between them. Elizabeth had never looked at him with such an expression of longing and desire, and now she was bestowing those passions on another man.

  Jane noticed Mr. Grinly’s discomfort and attempted to intervene on his behalf. “Lizzy.”

  Elizabeth did not seem to hear her. Her eyes were fixed on Mr. Darcy.

  Once again, Jane called her name, this time more firmly.

  Elizabeth slowly turned her head towards her sister, her eyes not leaving Darcy until the last moment. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Darcy has just this moment arrived from London, and I believe he would like to freshen up. Perhaps we can continue this visit another time when he has had a chance to rest from his trip.” Jane stepped close to Elizabeth, struggling to gain her attention. “Would you and Mr. Grinly care to join us for dinner tomorrow?” She would say or do anything to get Elizabeth away from Netherfield.

  Elizabeth did not know how to respond. She realized that she had been engaged in self-deception when she accepted Mr. Grinly, but now her faith and honor bound her to him. She looked at Mr. Darcy, whose expression was one of shock and disbelief. His face looked pale. He did not look well. Oh, how her heart went out to him!

  “I . . . yes . . . thank you, Jane.”

  Mr. Grinly spoke to Elizabeth in a low voice. She turned her head slightly to hear him.

  In heated jealousy, Darcy watched as Mr. Grinly whispered quietly to Elizabeth in an intimate manner. Though Darcy could not hear what Mr. Grinly told her, she made that obvious by her next statement.

  “We should be returning to Longbourn, Jane. We will see you tomorrow.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes turned once again towards Darcy, and every emotion of love, passion, and yearning that she ever felt for him returned with a force that nearly took her breath away.

  Jane stepped between Elizabeth and Darcy, but her presence seemed not to matter. She took Elizabeth’s hand and led her from the room. “I look forward to it. Please give my love to Mama. Goodbye, Miss Grinly. It was a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bingley.”

  Mr. Bingley saw them off at the door.

  * * * * *

  DARCY COLLAPSED ONTO THE SOFA. He had held his breath from the moment Elizabeth left the room until he heard the front door close. Inhaling deeply, Darcy closed his eyes and turned his head away from Jane to conceal his tortured emotions from her. He had seen Elizabeth! The fact that she was marrying anyone but him was torment enough, but that she was not marrying for love caused an even deeper wound. It was obvious to him that Elizabeth was not in love with Mr. Grinly and never would be. Despite all the hurt he had caused her, the look of regret in her eyes had been unmistakable. She still loved him!

  Darcy stood and walked to the window. He could feel Mrs. Bingley’s eyes on him as they followed his progress across the room.

  “Mr. Darcy, are you unwell?”

  “I . . . I do not know.”

  “The damage has been done, sir. It was apparent to me, and I fear to everyone in the room, that my sister still loves you.”

  “And I have never ceased loving her. I had resolved to return to Hertfordshire before I received your husband’s letter announcing her engagement. I was to leave the very next day.” He looked out the window again. The beauty of the garden was lost to him. “I did not know what to do. It was not my intention to hurt her further. I suppose I came to punish myself for my foolishness.”

  Jane’s frustration spent itself in a burst of emotion. She quickly crossed the room and placed herself directly in front of Mr. Darcy.

  “And what about Elizabeth?” she cried angrily. “Did you come to punish her as well?”

  The suddenness and violence of her attack left him speechless. All he could do was shake his head and step back from her.

  “I am sorry. Please forgive me, sir.”

  “Believe me, madam, I have asked myself that same question, and I have no answer for it other than to charge myself with selfishness and an unwillingness to let her go.”

  “What will you do now?”

  What will I do now? “Your sister,” said Darcy sadly, “does not love Mr. Grinly.”

  “I am certain my husband told you that we would withdraw our invitation to you if you did anything to disturb Elizabeth’s happiness.”

  “He did.”

  “You have done that.”

  “I did . . . ”

  “Your presence here has ruined her happiness with Mr. Grinly, and I grieve for it.” Jane invited Mr. Darcy to sit near her on a sofa.

  He took his place, though perhaps a little uncomfortably at the restraint of sitting compared to the freedom of walking around the room as an outlet for his frustration.

  “It is my fault, though,” continued Jane. “I encouraged her to accept Mr. Grinly when it was apparent that she should not. I overcame her objections to the match, and though she confessed to me that she was still in love with you, I told her you did not care for her anymore.”

  “I do care for her. I love her.”

  “I consented to my husband’s request to invite you back to Netherfield. Perhaps if she had not called today, perhaps if she had not seen you again, all would be well with her. So you see, her unhappiness is my doing.”

  “If it is still your wish, I will leave immediately.”

  “Please, sir, do not! She will be expecting to see you tomorrow. Do not leave her wondering what her own feelings may be. Tomorrow I will ask her again, and if she tells me she loves you, I will do everything in my power to ensure that she does not marry Mr. Grinly. She could not be happy. I was wrong before, but I will not be wrong again.”

  “And if she does not love me?”

  “Then you will have to leave. Mr. Darcy, I am left not knowing how to repair the damage I have created in her life. There will be scandal and upset if she terminates her engagement to Mr. Grinly, and there may be a lifetime of regret and misery if she does not. What has changed, sir? Why are you back?” This question had bothered her from the moment he stepped from his carriage.

  Darcy felt nothing but gratitude for the opportunity this question provided to explain himself. “I spent my whole life trying to live up to my f
ather’s expectations for me. As he has been dead for five years, you can see what a futile effort that has been.” He got up from the sofa and walked back to the window.

  “When I attempted to persuade Bingley not to marry you — please forgive me for that — I was voicing my own objections to an attachment I had formed for your sister. Bingley saw right through the charade.”

  “So you did love her. I cannot imagine that your father would not have approved of Elizabeth.”

  “My father told me that I could not be happy in an unequal alliance as to family, fortune, and position in society. I have since learned that none of those has any claim on happiness.”

  “And how did you learn this?”

  “An acquaintance recently offered me £35,000 if I would marry his daughter. She is an attractive, pleasant young woman from a prestigious family, and it would be the kind of match of which my father would have approved.”

  “But I thought you loved Elizabeth.” Neither she nor Elizabeth could offer any such advantages. No wonder Mr. Darcy thought she was unworthy of being Bingley’s wife.

  “I was horrified when he made the offer. He knew I did not love his daughter, and I reminded him of that. He said it took more than love to make a good marriage. At that moment, I realized that love is all that is necessary and that my father was wrong. I knew I had hurt your sister, and I despised myself for it. I wanted to return to Hertfordshire, and I wanted to know if your sister would give me another chance and if, after all the pain I had caused her, she still loved me. Because I had not received an invitation from Netherfield, I intended to come to Meryton. The night before my departure, I received Bingley’s letter announcing your sister’s engagement. You cannot comprehend what I now suffer.”

  “Indeed I cannot, but it seems to me that brought it all on yourself.” Mr. Darcy was a complicated man. Had he exerted himself more and been more considerate of others, either Elizabeth would be his or neither of them would be suffering from such misery.

  Jane passed quietly out of the room to search for her husband. She felt the need for the reassurance of his love. She was grateful to him for loving her, and his affection was dearer than ever to her as she understood all that he had sacrificed to marry her.

  * * * * *

  ONCE OUT THE DOOR OF Netherfield, the Longbourn party formed up with Elizabeth on one side of Mr. Grinly and Constance on the other. At a distance from the house where conversation would be desirable, there was only silence. Elizabeth could not speak, Mr. Grinly would not speak, and Constance dared not speak.

  It had taken only a moment for Mr. Grinly to ascertain that not only was Mr. Darcy more than an acquaintance to Elizabeth but that her heart belonged to him. He could not imagine a person looking more stricken than Elizabeth on seeing Mr. Darcy. Her pale skin had become white, and her eyes were filled with anguish.

  For her part, Constance knew from Elizabeth’s reaction that Mr. Darcy was the man to whom she referred when she spoke of someone who had disappointed her. Constance kept looking at Elizabeth for some sign of reassurance from her that all would be well, but Elizabeth would not return her glance.

  Elizabeth’s feelings for Mr. Darcy were a mass of confusion. He had left her, hurt her, and given no explanation for his behavior. It was perfectly natural for her to accept a proposal from a respectable man like Mr. Grinly, but why did she feel so awful, as if she had committed some kind of betrayal?

  The answer was painful. Against her will, she was passionately in love with Mr. Darcy, and she realized she did not love Mr. Grinly at all. In that moment, she repented of every feeling of distrust and resentment she ever felt for Mr. Darcy. In that instant, it all meant nothing. All that mattered was him.

  * * * * *

  DARCY FOLLOWED MRS. BINGLEY OUT of the drawing room and climbed the stairs to his bedchamber. He wished to be alone with his thoughts. Lying on his bed, he pulled Elizabeth’s purple ribbon from the place he always kept it, in the pocket nearest his heart. He laced the ribbon through his fingers and held it to his lips, reproaching himself for the pride and uncertainty that had cost him Elizabeth. Was there any chance that she would break her engagement to Mr. Grinly? Was there any chance at all?

  * * * * *

  ELIZABETH LITERALLY FLED FROM MR. Grinly when they reached the entryway at Longbourn. How she longed to confide in Jane! There was no one else with whom she could talk about her feelings. Finally persuaded that Mr. Darcy did not return her love, she had accepted Mr. Grinly in the hope of forgetting him, in the hope of being loved, in the hope of some semblance of a happy future.

  Now everything changed. Seeing Mr. Darcy brought back all the feelings she had for him. She remembered how she felt when he kissed her. The instant she saw that look of passion in his eyes, she knew he still loved her. He must have known of her engagement. She was certain Jane would not have invited him back without informing him. Why did he come back if not to claim her?

  But could she allow that? Did not honor bind her to Mr. Grinly? Surely, it must. She knew that to reject Mr. Grinly would be to hurt him in nearly the same manner he had suffered when his wife died. It would do the same to Constance, who might never understand. How much pain would she cause them? They had done nothing at all to deserve it.

  Her own family would be embarrassed if she ended her engagement. Poor Mama! She had told the whole of Meryton. Could she rely on Mr. Darcy to make her an offer? Could she base her future on such an expectation? He had disappointed her before. She had felt abandoned and rejected because of him, but all of that seemed forgotten the moment their eyes met.

  How much would Mr. Darcy suffer and how much would she suffer if she tried to live a life without him? If she could not be whole without Mr. Darcy, then marrying Mr. Grinly would be tragically wrong. How could she be a good wife knowing she loved another? How could she give herself to Mr. Grinly knowing she wanted Mr. Darcy?

  She collapsed on her bed with all the pain of a tortured mind and cried until there were no more tears. When she was herself again, it was night, and the room was dark. She crawled under the bedclothes and pulled them close around her chin, praying for the insensibility of sleep.

  * * * * *

  ELIZABETH KNEW SHE WOULD HAVE to face Mr. Grinly and Constance. She would have to give them some explanation as to why she ran up to her room the previous night without another word to them. Elizabeth was certain that Mr. Grinly would find some way to excuse her actions. Having slept badly and feeling poorly for it, Elizabeth crept down to the drawing room to await the inevitable. To her surprise, Constance was already up. She appeared to be struggling with some needlework.

  “Good morning, Constance.” Elizabeth sat down next to her.

  “Elizabeth, I must ask you. Was that him? Is Mr. Darcy the man who loved you?”

  “He is,” whispered Elizabeth.

  “He still loves you, I think.”

  Elizabeth could not respond.

  “If you leave me, I do not know how I shall bear it.” Constance set down her work and laced her fingers together, clasping her hands tightly. “I watched you look at him. You do not look at my father in the same way.” Constance started to cry softly. “I could see it in your eyes. You love him.” Constance could not bury a sob. She burst into tears and ran from the room.

  * * * * *

  ELIZABETH WALKED TO THE WINDOW. Her mind returned to that exact, unexpected moment when she had come upon Mr. Darcy at Netherfield. Before seeing him, her heart felt free in the knowledge that he was gone from her life. Now Mr. Darcy was back, and she felt that her freedom had been taken away. There was no denying how she felt about him, and now that she had seen him and the love and passion in his eyes, she knew she could never forget him.

  Her mind revolved in circles between the shock of her revived feelings for Mr. Darcy, the pain she caused Mr. Grinly, and the knowledge that Mr. Darcy loved her. The circle tightened around her and she felt trapped in the vise-like grip of self-reproach for having been weak. If Jane accu
sed Mr. Darcy of trifling with her, is that not what she had done to Mr. Grinly and Constance?

  She whispered his name. “Mr. Darcy.”

  Just at that moment, Mr. Grinly entered the drawing room, soon enough to hear Elizabeth pronounce that man’s name.

  “No, Elizabeth, it is I, Thomas.”

  “Oh . . . I . . . ” She sighed. “Good morning, Mr. Grinly.”

  He winced at her formality. He stepped next to her, cringing when she unconsciously moved away from him. She did not look well, and it appeared as though she had slept very little and was emotionally spent. Mr. Grinly clenched his teeth at the thought of her crying the night away over Mr. Darcy.

  “Good morning,” he said with an air of cheerfulness that he did not feel. “Did you sleep well? I missed you last evening. You did not come down from your room.”

  “I was not well, but I will be fine. I felt ill after our walk back from Netherfield.”

  “Constance and I were worried about you, and I am worried now.” His daughter had just come to him in tears, directly from her conversation with Elizabeth. Mr. Grinly now knew about Mr. Darcy’s connection to his intended and was fairly certain he understood her feelings towards the man. He wondered whether it was something she could overcome.

  “I am sorry.”

  “My only concern is for you,” he paused, “and us.”

  Elizabeth turned away from him as a shiver ran up her spine. It was a reminder of her weariness of body and mind.

  “Oh . . . ” she whispered.

  Mr. Grinly saw that she looked pale and seemed unsteady on her feet.

  “Elizabeth, are you unwell?”

  “I . . . I feel a little lightheaded.”

  With a quick motion, Mr. Grinly put one arm around her waist and lifted her to a sofa. “Let me call for tea.” He rang the bell and requested that tea be brought to Miss Elizabeth as quickly as may be. Sensing Mr. Grinly’s urgency and seeing that Elizabeth was out of countenance, Mrs. Hill hurried from the room on her errand.

  “You are putting yourself to too much trouble for me, you . . . ”