by P. O. Dixon
Charlotte said, “That is the thing. You see, Phoebe did not see the gentlemen either.”
“Oh? I suppose she went out for a walk.” Although her cousin had never been a great walker, she had made a concerted effort to join Elizabeth whenever she could while they were in Hunsford. Elizabeth had no doubt that the presence of a certain gentleman whom they were always meeting in the lanes was a strong inducement.
How odd that he should always turn and accompany them with such regularity. How odd the manner in which he directed so much of his attention toward her when it was evident that Phoebe was the one who went out of her way to garner his good opinion. Elizabeth was convinced that Phoebe had convinced herself that Mr. Darcy was courting her.
How odd that the gentleman believed he was courting me. Whatever I do, I must make sure that Phoebe never learns of what happened between Mr. Darcy and me since we have been here in Kent. I am sure it would break her heart to know that all of her hopes were in vain. Although I have always considered her marital scheme for the four of us to be little more than a diversion, I am not entirely certain she viewed it in the same light-hearted spirit.
Charlotte did marry Mr. Collins, after all—something Elizabeth never thought would happen. Had it not been for the colonel, who is to say that I might have been so hasty in rejecting Mr. Darcy’s hand?
Was her own sense of right and wrong enough to warrant the refusal of a man who professed to being ardently in love with her merely on the basis on the grievances of another man so wholly unconnected to her?
She shook her head. The material point is I did not accept Mr. Darcy’s hand, and that is the end of that.
“No,” said Charlotte, piercing Elizabeth’s musings. “I have not seen her since breakfast. She asked about your whereabouts, and after I said you had gone out for a walk, she informed me that she would be in the bedroom embarking on a letter-writing campaign to her father as well as her relations in Brighton.”
“Brighton? Is Phoebe planning to go away to Brighton?”
“To visit her father’s relations,” Charlotte said, nodding. “It appears so.”
“That is rather odd. I know that she had long wanted to visit Brighton, however. But, why now?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I suppose this time in Kent has taught her to abandon the hope of winning Mr. Darcy’s hand.”
Feigning a lightness of heart she did not honestly feel given the events which had unfolded over the past weeks, Elizabeth said, “I suppose. One never truly knows where affairs of the heart and possible felicity in marriage are concerned. Perhaps Phoebe has a cousin in Brighton who is in want of a wife, and she simply chose not to mention him before.”
Chapter 19
a similar fate
Georgiana knew she should not have listened to what was meant to be a private conversation between her brother and her cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, but her brother had been exhibiting such odd behavior since his return from Kent. Any clues she might detect were sure to put her mind at ease. Besides, her own name had been invoked. What more license did she need to explain herself? Surely a lady’s curiosity, once piqued, demanded satisfaction.
Once inside the parlor at Darcy House, Georgiana paced the floor.
She had truly believed she could rely on her brother’s discretion to keep the secret of her near elopement with George Wickham to himself. She had counted upon her cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam as well. She had even relied on George Wickham himself, as well as his accomplice and her former guardian, Mrs. Younge, to guard the secret.
How alarmed she was to learn that her brother had confided her greatest secret to a stranger, someone who was so wholly unconnected to her as well as to her brother. What in the world was he thinking? Georgiana simply would not allow her companion, Mrs. Annesley, who had been studying her with a concerned eye, to know just how deeply disturbed she was by this discovery. But surely her brother would know.
I cannot wait until I see my brother.
Soon after being informed that her brother was alone in his study, Georgiana stormed into the room, surprising herself just as much as him by her severity.
“How dare you discuss my private affairs with someone so wholly unconnected to our family?” Georgiana demanded after recounting what she had heard.
Darcy’s large mahogany desk was as untidy as was his physical appearance, both a consequence of the continuing tumult of his mind in the aftermath of his disastrous proposal of marriage to Miss Elizabeth. Taken aback by his younger sister’s impertinence, Darcy arose from his seat. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner, young lady? Have you forgotten what you are about?”
“The least you might have done is forewarned me that you have confided my secret in others! Then I might know how to act should fate throw me in their paths.”
“Georgiana, there is no harm in Miss Elizabeth Bennet knowing what happened — almost happened to you. I told her in the hopes that she might avoid a similar fate. Surely you would have done the same.”
The irony of his confession was not lost on him, for he had no way of knowing whether Elizabeth had even read his letter. He prayed that she had.
“Confide my personal affairs to a casual acquaintance?” Georgiana asked. “I think not. My question stands. How could you do such a thing?”
“Miss Elizabeth is more than a casual acquaintance to me. I love her!”
And as soon as that, Georgiana’s expression changed from one of serious displeasure to one of anticipation laced with contrition. “You—you love her? Brother, I did not know. I am so sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“Indeed, for rather than berating you, I feel I ought to be wishing you joy.”
“No—I am afraid that will not be necessary. Not now—most likely, not ever.”
“So that means you did not tell her that you love her. Is it because you are ashamed of her, owing to her lack of wealth and her lack of fortune, her family’s want of connections?”
“No—yes. What I mean to say is I went to her to profess my ardent love for her in terms that hardly recommended my suit. Not only did I confess my struggles to avoid falling in love with her, owing to her lack of fortune and want of connections in comparison with my own, but I also did so with every expectation of a favorable reply.”
“There is little wonder that she said no.”
“Little wonder indeed.”
“But, what of your heart? Have you abandoned all hope?”
“If it were merely the fact that I insulted her family, I might have a fair amount of hope, but there is more to my story than that. For one, she blames me for all of George Wickham’s misfortunes.”
“Is that the reason you confided in Miss Elizabeth Bennet, my secret? In order to provide evidence of George’s true character.”
Darcy nodded.
“But it did not work?” asked Georgiana.
He shrugged. “I can only hope she takes my words to heart, so that she and her family are spared. I should hate to think I confided in Miss Elizabeth something so critical to your reputation in vain.”
“I suspect there is more than your perceived slight against Mr. Wickham that has given you reason to abandon all hope.”
“There is.”
“What is it, if you do not mind my asking?”
“It has to do with her sister, Miss Jane Bennet, and Charles Bingley. Miss Elizabeth believes that I am the reason that Charles did not return to Hertfordshire—that I am the cause of her sister’s broken heart.”
“Are you not?”
Darcy swept his fingers through his dark hair. His part in the affair in conjunction with the Bingley sisters came to mind. He was not pleased that his sister’s new friend, Miss Bingley, had discussed the matter with the younger woman, but he knew he had no one to blame but himself. Disguise of any sort was his abhorrence, and yet he had willingly taken part in the scheme to keep his friend and Miss Jane Bennet apart.
“I do not deny it. Nor did I deny it to Miss Elizabe
th. I did what I did in the interest of my friend. I never believed that Miss Bennet’s feelings for him were sincere. However, Miss Elizabeth’s strong stance in defense of her sister has given me reason to believe that all hope for her forgiveness is lost, for as much as she loves her sister, she would never accept the man whom she believes has been the cause of subjecting her sister to derision for disappointed hopes. Those were her expressed words.”
“Then, Brother, you know what you must do.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“You must do everything in your power to reunite Mr. Bingley with Miss Jane Bennet.”
“Georgiana, my dear, I cannot believe you would suggest such a thing. I thought—I was of the opinion that you—”
“That I wanted Mr. Bingley for myself. I will not deny that was — nay, has long been my heart’s greatest desire. But Mr. Bingley does not love me. I know you well enough to know that disguise of any sort is your abhorrence and yet you purposely resorted to a scheme to separate Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet, which tells me that you knew he was in her power.
“If I am to be completely honest with myself, I must confess that I do not love him—not in the way I would wish to love the man with whom I am to spend the rest of my life. I suspect after what happened in Ramsgate, I was merely pacifying my wounded vanity.”
“I am sorry to hear you say that, for I will not deny the prospect of an alliance between the two of you would have pleased me exceedingly.”
“I know, Brother. I know. All you have ever wanted for me was that I might be happy. That is also my greatest wish for you. Now, I urge you to speak with Mr. Bingley.”
Chapter 20
A Measure of Hope
London, England - Cheapside
Having taken Elizabeth’s vehement rebuke of his officiousness in separating his friend from her sister to heart, as well as his sister’s advice, Darcy sought to make amends by making his friend Bingley aware of Miss Jane Bennet’s presence in town and accompanying him to Cheapside to call on her.
Seeing Miss Elizabeth upon his arrival was met with some surprise. He was certain, having heard it directly from his aunt, that Elizabeth had planned to be in Kent another fortnight at least. His aunt had also expressed her hope that Miss Elizabeth might remain in that part of the country even longer.
The irony of his aunt’s commendation of Miss Elizabeth Bennet was not lost on Mr. Darcy. How differently Lady Catherine might have behaved toward the young lady had she been presented to her ladyship as her future niece. By the manner of Elizabeth’s reception, one would never have guessed that Darcy’s last meeting with her in Kent had been wrought with so much contention and strife. He hoped rather than knew that his letter may have played some part in that.
Soon after all the usual civilities had been exchanged during which Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley had the pleasure of meeting the Bennet relations’ aunt, Mrs. Gardiner, the latter suggested that the young people might enjoy a walk to the nearby park for a breath of fresh air.
With so much to say on both their parts, neither Darcy nor Bingley were inclined to object and soon enough Elizabeth and Darcy had outpaced Jane and Bingley by a considerable distance, thus allowing each couple time to talk in privacy.
“I am sorry if my being here seems untoward,” said Darcy, after every topic on the weather and the park’s general beauty were exhausted.
“You could not have known that I would be here. I was expected to remain in Kent for another fortnight, at least.”
“You are correct,” Darcy said. “I did not know you would be here, but I would be lying if I said I did not hope.”
Elizabeth lowered her eyelids.
Mr. Darcy said, “Not that I mean to cause you any undue stress. As I wrote, I have no intention of repeating the avowal of that which you found so disgusting when we were together at the parsonage house.”
“Sir, I wish you would not say that.”
“Pardon, Miss Elizabeth?”
“It is just that words were exchanged on both our parts that perhaps would never have been spoken had a better understanding of each other’s character existed. Your letter–”
“So, you did read all I have to say.”
“I did. How can I apologize enough for judging you so harshly on the basis of Mr. Wickham’s outright falsehoods, convenient bending of the facts, and half-truths?”
“I gave you no reason to believe otherwise. In hindsight, I believe I ought to have been more forthcoming. This is not the first incidence of Mr. Wickham attempting to poison the hearts and minds of people against me. I dare say it will not be the last.”
“Be that as it may, I ought to have been more circumspect. I have always fancied myself an excellent studier of peoples’ characters.”
“If I am to be completely honest, then I must apologize for my part in any misunderstandings between us. I would like to make amends.”
“Is not your generosity in bringing Mr. Bingley here to Cheapside to see Jane proof of your contrition?”
“If I could do more, I most certainly would: perhaps be more open about my family’s history with Mr. Wickham as a means of preventing him from further ingratiating himself and perhaps inflicting similar harm on other unsuspecting young ladies.”
“I would never ask you to do that, sir. At least, not as it relates to my own family. I believe we are perfectly safe from him now that the militia has left Hertfordshire.”
“I must confess that I am delighted to hear that.”
Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged a look which offered the former a measure of hope. He might not have her heart, but at least he was on his way to winning her good opinion.
Whether Mr. Darcy or Elizabeth had the greater share of disappointment that their intimate intercourse was then interrupted when Jane and Bingley joined them on the lane could not be said.
The very real possibility existed that they were both suffering somewhat conflicting emotions: gladness in having taken those first steps towards eliminating any ongoing ill will and awkwardness between them pursuant to the failed proposal and anxiousness over what the next step between the two of them would be.
Chapter 21
Chance for Happiness
Darcy and Bingley called on the Gardiners once again two days hence. The former’s hope of a repetition of the warm reception from Miss Elizabeth was suspended upon his learning that she was not there.
Sitting in the Gardiners’ parlor with Miss Bennet and his friend Bingley was rather awkward, but Darcy was determined to see Elizabeth that day. Bingley must have noticed Darcy’s discomfort, and after a quarter hour had passed, he said, “What say the two of you that we go to the park for a bit of exercise and fresh air. We are certain to encounter Miss Elizabeth somewhere along the way.”
“No—” Darcy said. “That is to say, I know how eager you have been to visit Miss Bennet this morning. I shall leave you to it.” He looked at Jane. “If you will pardon me, Miss Bennet, I believe I shall take my leave.”
If Jane knew what Mr. Darcy’s true intention was for such a hasty departure, her countenance did not reflect it. She smiled. “By all means, sir. And allow me to express my gratitude for your having come all this way to call on us. Pray you shall enjoy a lovely day.”
Allowing no time for his friend to object, Darcy was gone directly.
He soon came across Elizabeth sitting on a park bench. From where he stood, she appeared to be in some distress. Mr. Darcy approached her directly, causing her to startle and spring to her feet.
“Good God! Miss Elizabeth, what is the matter? You look unwell. Shall I accompany to your uncle’s home?”
“No, I thank you,” she replied, endeavoring to recover herself. “There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well. I am only worried by some dreadful news which I have just received by way of the mail.”
Having said as much and likely observing his wretched suspense mixed with compassion, she must have felt a lengthier explanation was warranted.
Her distress evident by the trembling in her voice and even her hands, she continued, “It is a letter from my cousin Phoebe. When she left Kent, she traveled to Brighton to visit her relations – her father’s sister. At least that was the reason she gave, but in truth, she went there for the express purpose of throwing herself into Mr. Wickham’s path.”
“Wickham?”
Elizabeth nodded. “The worst part is she did so as a means of seeking revenge against me.” Elizabeth lowered her head as well as her voice. “Phoebe was at the parsonage that night. She must have heard everything. Till this moment, I had no knowledge that she was there, but it seems she heard it all, and she believes my affection for Mr. Wickham is the reason for my refusal.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath, hoping to slow her racing heartbeat. “What is more, she foolishly believes I ruined her chance for happiness, and she means to do the same thing to me.”
“I am not following.”
She turned away and looked over the nearby pond. Its waters were so calm—a striking contrast to the tumult of her mind.
How could Phoebe be so foolish?
“I am almost embarrassed to be discussing such a sensitive subject with you, sir.”
Darcy moved in front of her to command a full view of her face. “Clearly you are upset. It might help to confide in someone – to confide in me.”
“It is just that Phoebe has fancied herself in love with you since the day she first laid eyes on you, sir,” Elizabeth confessed, searching his face for his reaction to her speech.
“What?” Mr. Darcy asked, his expression unreadable.
