“Indeed, you are mistaken, sir. I have not been at all able to account for the honor.”
“Miss Bennet, you ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it.”
Elizabeth did not move and choose to remain silent. Darcy moved closer to her but never diverted his gaze away from the duke while he stomped around them.
“A report of a most alarming nature reached me many days ago. I was told that you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would, in all likelihood, be soon united to my son, my own son, the heir to a dukedom, Lord Blake. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you. I have had to expend innumerable effort to locate you. I have come here directly from Hertfordshire.”
“If you believed it impossible to be true, I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could Your Grace propose by it?” Elizabeth felt the heat rising in her face.
Darcy moved a step closer until he could feel her arm touching his. He moved only to keep his body slightly in between the two.
Charnwood glare at Elizabeth. “At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.”
“Your coming will be rather a confirmation of it; if, indeed, such a report is in existence.”
The Duke huffed. “If? Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a report is spread these past few months?”
“I never heard that it was.” She tapped Darcy’s arm when he had opened his mouth to respond. She caught his attention, shook her head and then bestowed a smile upon him, one that he vaguely remembered seeing from somewhere.
“Miss Bennet! And can you likewise declare that there is no foundation for it?”
“I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with Your Grace. You may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer.”
“This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has he, has my son, made you an offer of marriage?” Lord Charnwood moved closer to her.
Darcy stepped in front of Elizabeth and glowered down at the duke until satisfied his message was received. He watched as Blake’s father move backwards.
Elizabeth’s right brow rose. “Your Grace has declared it to be impossible.”
“It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his reason. You have no fortune and no connections. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You may have drawn him in.”
“If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.”
“Your Grace! You have gone too far,” Darcy bellowed. “I insist you refrain from making such slanderous attacks. Come Miss Bennet. We will find your uncle.” He held out his arm.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Mr. Darcy, please allow us to finish. His Grace’s words are of no importance to me.”
A red-faced Lord Charnwood sputtered. “Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am his nearest relation, and am entitled to know all his concerns.”
“But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behavior as this, ever induce me to be explicit.”
“Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. You are not worthy of the title of duchess, nor is the connection available. My son is engaged to another. Now what do you have to say?”
“Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he made an offer to me. I suspect the choice was yours and not his.”
“The arrangement has just been settled. The family has signed the papers as have I. She is of noble blood, and I will demand he carry out his duty and obligations, which fall upon his shoulders as my heir.”
“By your own admission, Lord Blake is neither by honor nor inclination confined to this person, why can he not make another choice? And if I or another lady is his choice, why should anyone not accept him?
“Because honor, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid it. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest; for if I do not approve, then you should not expect to be noticed by his family or friends, if you willfully act against the inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted, and despised, by every one connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any of us.”
“These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Elizabeth. “But any wife of Lord Blake must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine.”
“Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Do you know your station in life? You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person's whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.”
“Your Grace!” Darcy shouted, moving towards the man until he took two steps backwards.
Lizzy touched Darcy’s arm again. She glanced around and noticed Georgiana, Kent, and Lady Victoria had arrived in the garden. “That will make Your Grace’s situation at present more pitiable; but it will have no effect on me .”
“Miss Bennet, hear what I have to say. I will not be interrupted.”
Darcy laughed, catching them off guard.
Lord Charnwood held up his hand. “Hear me in silence. My son is destined for someone who can provide a splendid fortune and name. I have completed the negotiations with…”
Darcy and Elizabeth waited.
“Why, with your uncle, Mr. Darcy. I have made arrangements for my son to marry Lady Victoria Fitzwilliam.”
Elizabeth and Darcy’s mouths dropped open And heard the others gasping. Kent moved quickly to stand beside Victoria, who had a stunned expression on her face. She covered her mouth as she stared at the Duke.
Lord Charnwood stepped around Darcy and glared at Elizabeth. “So, you see, the upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune such as yourself will not win the day. If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up. My son is a peer, and you are but a lowly daughter of a poor country gentleman. And who is your mother? Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition.”
“Whatever my connections may be, if your son does not object to them, they can be nothing to you.”
“Tell me once for all, are you engaged to him?”
When he heard Darcy quick intake of breath, Rawlings appeared and grabbed his shoulded as he whispered, “Steady yourself, my friend.”
Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of obliging Lord Charnwood, have answered this question, she could not but say, after a moment's deliberation, “I am not.”
The duke seemed pleased. “And will you promise me, never to enter into such an engagement?”
“Father! What are you doing here?” Blake sped towards Elizabeth. He stood between her and his father. “Darcy, would you be so kind to escort Miss Bennet into the house. Miss Bennet, Lady Victoria, Miss Darcy, Kent, Rawlings, please, I would like to speak to my father alone.”
Elizabeth nodded and took Darcy’s arm, and the others followed behind. When Elizabeth glanced up at him, Darcy noticed the sparkle in her eye. The duke had not intimidated her. A smile spread across his face; her matching smile lifted his spirits. They searched each other’s faces for a full minute, ignoring the father and son arguing. They were barely in the house when they heard loud shouts from the garden.
The duke sent a parting glare to his son and shouted so loud every
one heard, “We are not finished, Robert. You will do as I say.” He stormed towards the driveway. Blake stood, unable to move, while he watched his father disappear around the corner.
At the door, a hurrying Mrs. Reynolds nearly bumped into the couple, holding several messages in her hand. “Sir, these urgent letters have arrived for Miss Bennet.
Elizabeth accepted the letters and studied the envelopes. “These are from my sister, Jane. I…”
“We are close to the library. Would you like to go there and read them?”
“Yes. Thank you. I have been wondering why I had not received any news from her. She wrote the address very ill.”
While he led her to the library, the others left for the music room as Georgiana suggested. Darcy closed the door, giving Elizabeth privacy. He waited patiently outside, and when Blake arrived, they heard sobs coming from within. They burst in the library and rushed to her side.
“Would you like to sit down? Please! You are not well.” Darcy said.
Blake rushed ahead and held the back of a chair near the window. “Please, Miss Bennet. Rest here.”
“No. I am well.” Still she plopped into the chair while she tore open the other letter. Blake and Darcy moved their chairs closer to her.
Her sobs grew louder as she sped through the next letter. Darcy gently took hold of her hand. “Good God! What is the matter?” When her tears rolled down her cheeks, he gave her hand a slight squeeze. “Shall we find your Aunt and Uncle? Let me help you, Miss Elizabeth.” He stopped himself from pulling her to his chest. Every inch of his body ached to hold her, comfort her, and offer her solace; it was a Herculean effort not to do so.He rang for a servant. “Find Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner immediately, and bring them here. Make haste.”
Elizabeth lifted her teary eyes at Darcy when he handed her his handkerchief. “Yes, I must speak to Mr. Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not a second to lose.” She rose to leave.
Blake leaned in.. “What can I do? Just say the word and it shall be done. Anything.”
It was impossible for Darcy or Blake to leave her side. She appeared sorrowfully despondent.
Blake turned to Darcy. “What happened? What did my father say to her to upset her so?”
“It was not your father causing her distress.” After using his gaze to direct Blake’s attention to the letters in Elizabeth’s lap, Darcy refocused his attention on the sobbing woman. “Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take, to give you present relief?—A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.”
Elizabeth shook her head and attempting to recover herself, said, “No, I thank you; there is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well. I am only distressed by dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.”
She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few minutes she could not speak another word. Darcy and Blake watched in wretched suspense and in compassionate silence. At length, she spoke again. “I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from any one. My youngest sister has left all her friends, has eloped, and has thrown herself into the power of… of Mr. Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to—she is lost for ever.”
Darcy’s attention was fixed in astonishment on the trembling woman before him. While Elizabeth continued to cry and dab her eyes with his handkerchief, he threw the back of his hand across his mouth and squeezed his other hand into a fist. He fought the urge to wrap his arms around her, lift her chin, and kiss her tears. He heard nothing but her words and her cries.
Blake leaned back into his chair, “Oh my.” He pulled back and returned his hands to his sides. He jumped up and and stepped backwards, rubbing his forehead and then shook the thoughts away, his focus returning to the flustered woman, sobbing and wiping her tears with a wet and crimpled handkerchief. He looked down at his hand and realized that she had accepted Darcy’s. His handkerchief was still in his own hand, dry and crisp.
When she spoke again, she used an agitated tone. “When I consider, that I might have prevented it—I, who knew what he was. Had I but explained a part of it only, some part of what I learned to my own family! Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all too late now.”
Darcy’s body stiffened. “I am grieved, indeed, grieved, shocked. But is it certain, absolutely certain?”
“Oh yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland.”
Blake moved his chair closer. “And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?”
Elizabeth looked up at Blake with a dazed expression. “My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle's immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour.”
“Yes, of course. We will not keep you here, but if there is anything at all that I… we can do…” Blake leaned forward in his chair and took her hand. “anything at all.”
Nodding politely to Blake, she pulled her hand back and then turned back to Darcy. “But nothing can be done; I know that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”
Darcy shook his head, thinking how it was his fault as well. Why did he not speak to Mr. Bennet?
“When my eyes were opened to his real character.—Oh! had I known what I ought, what I dared, to do! But I knew not—I was afraid of doing too much. Wretched, wretched, mistake!”
Darcy made no answer. He seemed scarcely to hear her. He walked up and down the room in earnest meditation, his brow furrowed, and his air gloomy. “Mrs. Younge, she will know where they are. I will her and make her give Wickham to me. Who can I trust to find Mrs. Younge? She must reside in the seedy section of London. He continued to create a plan for locating Georgiana’s prior governess. His mind was reliving everything that happened one year earlier. He recalled a letter Mrs. Younge had sent him asking for monies due to her. It had an address. Yes, he would hurry back to London, find the letter, and seek her.
Blake glanced at the doorway. “Where is your uncle? Where is your aunt?”
Elizabeth turned away from Blake and towards Darcy; she quickly observed his demeanor and instantly understood it. Her power was sinking; everything must sink under such a proof of family weakness, such an assurance of the deepest disgrace. She should neither wonder nor condemn, but the belief of Mr. Darcy’s self-conquest brought nothing consolatory to her bosom, afforded no reduction of her distress. It was, on the contrary, exactly calculated to make her understand her own wishes; and never had she so honestly felt that she could have loved him, as now, when all love must be vain.
Elizabeth’s depth of feelings for Darcy was not lost on Blake. He rose from his chair, mumbling something about finding her relatives, and left the room.
Elizabeth wiped her tears. Lydia—the humiliation, the misery, she was bringing on them all—soon swallowed up every private care; and covering her face with his handkerchief, she was soon lost to everything else until she heard her aunt and uncle calling her name from the doorway.
Darcy, who, in a manner, which though it spoke compassion, spoke with restraint, said, “I am afraid you have long desired my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing, concern. Would to heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part, that might offer consolation to such distress!—But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks.”
“We will help her now, Darcy,” Mr. Gardiner said as he and his wife moved closer to their niece.
Darcy again expressed his sorrow for her distress, wished it a happier conclusion than there was at present reason to hope, and, with only one serious parting look, went away.
A World of Expectations_Book 2_The Confrontation Page 44
