Rocks in the Stream

by Lewis Whelchel

  I loved you then, and I love you now. Please forgive me for allowing fear and uncertainty to come between us. Please forgive me for the pain I caused you. I hope that one day you will remember me with kindness.

  I wish you every happiness in your new life with Mr. Grinly. He must be a good man if he was able to obtain your affection.

  I remain, &c.

  Fitzwilliam Darcy

  * * * * *

  HE WAS GONE. MR. DARCY was gone. She always thought he would be there, somewhere, and that perhaps she might see him from time to time. It was a silly notion, of course, for she would soon be living in Wiltshire. By returning the ribbon, he had released her and surrendered her to Mr. Grinly. Her heart ached for Mr. Darcy, for she knew very well how he must feel. She would not show the letter to Mr. Grinly but would destroy it. She would keep the ribbon as a memento of the love and happiness she once felt and never expected to feel again.

  * * * * *

  CONSTANCE WAS IN HER ROOM waiting for Elizabeth who usually came by this time to help her dress. Today, she had dressed alone. Constance was impatient to see her friend and to be assured that all was well. She had retired before Elizabeth and her father returned from Netherfield and so did not know the outcome of that meeting.

  The knock at the door was not that of Elizabeth but her father. She smiled a greeting to him as he entered the room.

  “Constance, we will be leaving Longbourn tomorrow for home.”

  “And Elizabeth?”

  “Elizabeth and I will not be wed. She will not be coming with us.” I did not love you . . . The pain was still fresh.

  “She loves him, does she not?”

  “Yes.” He put his arm around Constance and she leaned her head against his shoulder. “I knew that she did not love me, but I hoped that, in time, she would. I cannot break the engagement, but it is out of my power to make her happy, and it is impossible for me to do anything that will make her otherwise.”

  “Will she end it? That might be damaging to her reputation.”

  “I have to trust that Mr. Darcy will preserve her. I cannot do anything more than absent myself from her life.”

  “I wanted so much . . . I wish . . . ”

  “I have also wished. Constance, I am so sorry. This is not what I intended for us.”

  “Have you spoken with her?” She felt hollow at the prospect of returning to Wiltshire without Elizabeth.

  “Not yet, but I cannot put it off any longer.” He rose to leave. “We will depart early and breakfast on the road.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  * * * * *

  ELIZABETH SLIPPED MR. DARCY’S LETTER into her pocket, and after sitting on the bench quietly for a half-hour, she was enough recovered to be able to go into the drawing room and wait for Mr. Grinly — for Thomas, she reminded herself. She wanted to come to a firm understanding with him and arrange to be married as soon as possible. He would take her into Kent, and then they would travel to Wiltshire. Elizabeth would ask him if they could take Constance with them so that there would be no reason to return to Hertfordshire. She would miss seeing Jane, but there was no other way.

  From her place in the drawing room, she heard heavy footsteps, and concluding that it was Mr. Grinly, she calmed herself as best as she could and then rose when he came in the room.

  “Good morning, Thomas.

  “Good morning, Miss Bennet.”

  She frowned at his formality but assumed that he felt distant from her because of her behavior the previous night. She was going to close that distance. “Will you sit with me, sir?”

  “No, please, forgive me.” There would always be the fear of intrusion if they remained in the house. “Perhaps we can go out into the garden?”

  “I would like that.”

  They walked in silence as he followed her to the bench where she was sitting the day he had proposed. It was protected from view of the house by a large tree. Mr. Grinly chose not to sit, but leaned against the tree.

  He knew not how to begin. He knew not how to tell her that he loved her but could not marry her. He wanted to tell her —

  Elizabeth interrupted his thoughts. “I would like to be married as soon as possible, Thomas. I hope you will agree.”

  Mr. Grinly was astonished by this revelation. It was a resolution that he would have welcomed yesterday, but today he had better knowledge, and though it was a tempting offer, it could not sway him. He knew his decision was correct.

  “Miss Bennet . . . ”

  She could see a tide of pain wash over his face. A sense of foreboding sprang up in her mind.

  “ . . . I know that you still love Mr. Darcy.”

  Elizabeth raised her hand as if to interrupt him, but he forestalled her. “Please, let me continue. Your heart belongs to another man.” He paced away from her. “I fear that if we were to marry, you would come to regret your decision and would soon resent Constance and me. It will be impossible for me to secure your lasting happiness.”

  Elizabeth suddenly felt heavy and would have been unable to stir from the bench had she desired it. The enormity of what he was saying was nearly incomprehensible.

  “Thomas, you can secure it! I will be happy with you. I will!” She closed her eyes for a moment. “What you say is true, but it does not mean I do not respect and esteem you. I am committed to you. I have promised myself to you, and I do want to marry you. I have chosen you, Thomas. In time, I will forget about Mr. Darcy as I am surrounded by your love and Constance’s affection. My feelings for him have brought me nothing but heartache. I know that you will not hurt me and that I am safe with you.”

  As she spoke, her strength returned and her courage rallied. She rose up and stood directly in front of him. “I will love you, Thomas, and I am truly sorry I do not now because you are a good, worthy man deserving of my affections. We shall be very happy together. I know we shall.”

  He stepped away from her as he felt his resolve weaken. Every instinct called out to him to take her in his arms, hold her, and love her just as much as he could and to be satisfied with whatever affection she could give him in return.

  “Miss Bennet, I know that Mr. Darcy hurt you, but it is only those for whom we feel the most love, only those who are most dear to us, who can truly hurt us, but that does not mean we cease to love them.”

  “Which is to say that I have hurt you.”

  “Remember the joy that Mr. Darcy brought you and the way you felt whenever you were with him. Think of the passion that is in his eyes when he looks at you. Forgive him. Love him. That is where your happiness is to be found, and that is where you belong.” He never imagined that the ultimate expression of his love for her would be to give her up to another man.

  She struggled to catch her breath, but could not.

  “I am begging you, Elizabeth, to agree to end our engagement — to end it for the sake of the happiness of us all.”

  Why did the feeling she was experiencing remind her of rolling down the hill with Jane when they were girls? It seemed as if she were falling and could not stop herself.

  “I know it will cost you some embarrassment and for a time will be uncomfortable, but in the end, it will be the best for all concerned.” He ceased to speak and turned away from her.

  “I am so sorry, Mr. Grinly. I beg that you will forgive me.”

  “There is nothing to forgive. You have done nothing wrong.”

  “Yes, I have. I have raised expectations in you. I know what you must be feeling. I know that Constance will be deeply wounded. How shall I bear knowing that I have done that?”

  “I have already spoken to Constance and explained my sentiments. She is saddened, but composed, and is in agreement with me.”

  “To what did she agree, sir?”

  “That we cannot bring you the fulfillment and pleasure your life deserves, and because of that, you and I should not marry.”

  “What you truly mean,” Elizabeth said bitterly, “is that I cannot bring you the happiness yo
u deserve.”

  “No, not if your heart belongs to another.”

  He knew it would hurt, but he wanted Elizabeth to know that he was fully detached from any expectations. He wanted her to be free to accept Mr. Darcy.

  “Very well.”

  * * * * *

  IT WAS DONE. ELIZABETH WAS no longer to be married. She sat in stunned silence, wondering how it was possible that so much of her life could change in just an instant of time. She must have slipped into a reverie, because it was with a start that she heard him speak to her.

  “ . . . and may I ask one thing of you?”

  “Yes . . . of course . . . anything.”

  He sat down next to her on the bench. “You must allow me to be the one who informs your mother. I can imagine how she will react, and you do not deserve that. You must allow me to do this. You must give me this opportunity to help you.”

  “You take too much upon yourself, sir.”

  She reached out to touch his hand by way of emphasis but, recalling their change in situation, withdrew it with an embarrassed look.

  “I think not,” replied Mr. Grinly in a gentle tone of voice. “Constance and I will leave for Wiltshire in the morning. You will talk to her, will you not?”

  “I will. I could not let her leave without speaking to her.” Elizabeth watched him stand and walk slowly back to the house.

  When he was gone from her sight, she could not hold back her tears. The shock of one moment being engaged to marry and the next moment unshackled, though not free, was overwhelming.

  * * * * *

  THE PASSAGE OF TIME TO Mr. Darcy was irrelevant today. His worries were not centered on the length of the trip from Hertfordshire to London, but on the rest of his life. Never having given his heart to any woman, he now found it lost, and as the distance between himself and Netherfield grew, he knew a part of him, what he recognized as the best part, remained behind.

  When he told Mrs. Bingley of his love for Elizabeth, he never imagined that his ultimate act of love would be giving her up. He had hoped to win her back. He had hoped that love was enough, but she had sent him away. She had consigned them both to a life without love — he, because he was not allowed to love her, and she, because she did not love Mr. Grinly. Peering through the darkness that surrounded his mind, he knew he would never see clearly again.

  * * * * *

  RECALLING HER SITUATION, ELIZABETH WIPED her tears and walked into the house. Mr. Grinly was in the drawing room talking to her mother. Elizabeth drew up near the door, though she remained out of sight of both, and listened to what passed between them.

  “In choosing a wife, Mrs. Bennet, it is my desire to provide myself with a companion I can love and respect and who returns that love and for that woman to be a friend to Constance.” Before she could make any reply, he quickly asked, “May I sit down?”

  Mrs. Bennet was not pleased with his gravity. Though she knew him not to be of a lively disposition, this serious talk was making her uncomfortable. She invited him to sit in a chair opposite the sofa on which she sat.

  “Because of these desires, and as a result of serious conversation with Miss Bennet, we have agreed to end our engagement.”

  “What? You cannot be serious! You cannot end the engagement! What kind of talk is this?”

  “Indeed, I cannot end it, but Miss Bennet can, and I have persuaded her that she must, and she has agreed that it should be done.”

  “Mr. Grinly, please! I will talk to Lizzy myself. There must be some mistake. I will tell her that she shall marry you!”

  “That is impossible.”

  “Why is it impossible? It must be possible.”

  “I cannot in good conscience marry your daughter.”

  “What? Good conscience? What has that girl done to offend you?”

  “I believe it is impossible, madam, for Miss Bennet to offend anyone. However, it is not in my power to bring her the happiness she deserves. She will be miserable with me and would soon regret marrying me.”

  “Lizzy is a good humored sort of girl. There will be no unhappiness, of course there will not. I will talk to her. I will bring her to reason.”

  “Madam, it is not she with whom you must speak. This is my decision, not hers. Her delicacy of mind alone allows her to acquiesce. I am resolved. For her welfare and that of my daughter and myself, I cannot marry Miss Bennet. It is impossible.”

  “She shall be ruined! We shall all be ruined!”

  “She has not been compromised. Her virtue is intact, and she will love again and be loved by someone who can truly care for her. I agree that there may be some uncomfortable moments, but your true friends will stand by you and console you in your disappointment.”

  “You cannot be serious! Why cannot you make her happy?”

  “I beg of you,” Mr. Grinly said earnestly, “that you do not make this any more uncomfortable for Miss Bennet or myself than it already is. The decision has been made.”

  “Oh, Mr. Grinly!”

  Elizabeth chose this moment to enter the room. “Mama —”

  “Lizzy, I am done with you from this day forward! I do not know what you have done to make Mr. Grinly reject you, but it must have been something awful!”

  Elizabeth silently agreed with her mother in this regard.

  “Mrs. Bennet, you must not blame her. It is wholly my decision.”

  “Mr. Grinly,” said Elizabeth, “you should not, I mean, I —”

  “Elizabeth, please.” He looked at her earnestly, begging her with his eyes not to speak further.

  She was sorry to be the cause of all the pain and discomfort he must be feeling. Mr. Grinly was correct, though. Ending the engagement was the only way he and Constance could hope to arrive at happiness in the future. For herself, she held no such expectations.

  “Elizabeth, I am done with you. You have disgraced us all!” Mrs. Bennet stormed out of the room.

  * * * * *

  ELIZABETH TOOK HER MOTHER’S SEAT on the sofa. She had no tears left for crying, though she felt all the sorrow that often accompanies such tears. She felt shamed and embarrassed and could only imagine what life would be like at Longbourn until her mother had vented every feeling she had on the subject. In all likelihood, it would be no time soon.

  Mr. Grinly sympathized with Elizabeth. He was no longer able to prevent forming an ill opinion of her mother. He had been striving to love her, and he was willing to make many allowances, but he would not countenance cruelty to Elizabeth. He first broke the silence. “Miss Bennet, perhaps you should stay with Mrs. Bingley until your mother’s anger has abated. Would you like me to arrange for an invitation?”

  “No, but thank you,” Elizabeth answered with a weak smile. “I want to be the one who breaks the news to Jane. I am grateful to you, for in speaking to my mother, you have preserved me from some of her immediate disappointment, but I cannot ask you to do more.”

  He looked at her silently.

  “I will go speak with Constance now, sir. I will ask her to walk out with me.”

  “I will leave you. I know you would wish to speak with her alone.”

  It would be a conversation he would like very much to hear, but by his very presence, it would not take place. Elizabeth and Constance had a close relationship. It would be uncomfortable for both of them, but it was an experience that should not be denied them. They had shared so much together, and they would very likely never meet again.

  “I will go to her now.” Elizabeth was on the point of leaving the drawing room when Mr. Grinly called her back.

  “Miss Bennet . . . Elizabeth . . . ” his voice softened. “I cannot leave Longbourn without saying . . . ”

  She colored, looking at him expectantly. He seemed embarrassed, which only contributed to her anxiety.

  “Elizabeth, I must express my admiration for you. You have brought such joy to my life since I have been here and —”

  She could not help but interrupt him. Hearing such things from him would
be unbearable. “ . . . and pain,” she concluded for him.

  He thought for a moment. “I do suffer, but that does not change how I feel about you. I would give anything for matters to have worked out differently.”

  How could she respond to such a profession?

  “I wish you every happiness, Elizabeth — every happiness imaginable.”

  “Mr. Grinly, that is my hope for you. And I also hope someday you will forgive me.”

  Elizabeth left the drawing room, knowing that this was the last conversation she would ever have with him. Ascending the stairs with no little apprehension, she reached the top with her courage nearly failing her.

  * * * * *

  ELIZABETH WAS CERTAIN THAT CONSTANCE knew who was knocking and so was not surprised when she was not immediately invited in. There was a little time between her knock and Constance’s opening the door — a hesitation, as if a decision was being made or a resolution determined.

  Constance opened the door. She said nothing to Elizabeth and then walked back to the bed and sat down.

  “I am sorry for disturbing you,” said Elizabeth.

  “Your visit is unexpected. I did not believe that I would see you again.” Constance turned nervously away from Elizabeth. She felt very agitated.

  “I suppose that your father has informed you that we —”

  “Yes, he did! Yes, my father told me that you . . . ” She stopped with a horror-stricken look on her face.

  Elizabeth refused to be offended by her abruptness, knowing that she must be frustrated by all the changes occurring in her life, but before she could consider it further, Constance ran to Elizabeth and embraced her.

  “Oh, Elizabeth. I did not mean to be harsh. Please, forgive me. Please.” Constance was torn between feelings of resentment for Elizabeth, as a daughter might feel for her injured father, and feelings of compassion, such as a friend might feel for another who was suffering.

  “There is nothing to forgive.” Elizabeth’s voice was full of compassion and gentleness. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

  “Yes, I would like that.”