by Hahn, Jan
After dinner while the men enjoyed their brandy and cigars, Jane and I discussed Georgiana’s interests with her, discovering that music was her great passion. My aunt led her to the pianoforte, and she and Jane scanned the stack of music, selecting particular favourites.
I wandered to the window and pulled back the lace curtains to see that it had begun to rain once more. I thought of the night in the cave, the storm outside, and Mr. Darcy’s comforting embrace. My mind, naturally, wandered to the firestorm that had erupted between us the morning after. I could feel his arms around me, his lips upon mine, how hungrily he had sought possession of my mouth.
Of whom could he have been thinking? I knew for certain it was not me. Did he not confess that very fact when he termed our kiss a mistake? Surely, there were some other lips he longed to kiss, some other woman he wished to hold in his arms. I shuddered at the thought.
“Miss Eliza,” Miss Bingley said, appearing beside me and jarring me back to the present. “You do not appear any the worse for wear from your little excursion.”
“Excursion?” I could not believe she would dismiss our abduction to that degree.
“Yes, you must have found it quite fortuitous to be thrown into Mr. Darcy’s daily company. I know I would have found it exhilarating.”
“No doubt,” I said, “but then I was too busy keeping myself alive. I fear I missed the exhilarating part altogether. What a pity!”
She looked down her nose at me in that particular way she had and was just about to say something when the men returned to the room, and her attention was diverted.
Georgiana was prevailed upon to play for us. She was nervous, and I offered to turn the pages of the music for her. Quite accomplished at the instrument, she had no reason to fear playing for an audience other than her natural timidity. Everyone was appreciative of her performance.
“Now, Lizzy, it is your turn,” my uncle said.
“Oh no, please, I — ”
Mr. Bingley and Jane joined his pleas. Reluctantly, I took my place at the piano, opened a piece of music, and began to play poorly. With the exception of Caroline, however, the audience was kind in its judgment and urged me to render another. I wished nothing more than to leave the instrument when I looked up to see Mr. Darcy standing before me.
“I would greatly enjoy hearing you sing,” he said, “for I have rarely heard anything that gave me greater pleasure.”
Was that sarcasm I heard in his voice, or did I imagine it? Could he deliberately wish to humiliate me? Did this request relate to my singing for Morgan, for I knew that he resented my having done so?
“I am sorry, sir, but I am not in the mood to sing.” I met his gaze and held it, refusing to back down or be bullied.
“My misfortune,” he said. “Perhaps another time.”
He turned away, and I rose quickly, seeing that Caroline hurried toward the instrument. Jane urged her to play, and she was more than willing to astound us with her expertise, causing her fingers to fly in a rousing sonatina.
Afterwards, my aunt suggested tables be set up for those who wished to play card games. My father declined, preferring to return to his favourite author, and Mr. Darcy asked if I would join him in my uncle’s library in search of a certain book. I knew that most in the room were aware he did not seek a book, but they allowed us this subterfuge in order to be alone. I could not miss their knowing glances.
Mr. Darcy opened the door, and squaring my shoulders, I lifted my chin, prepared for what I must do and say as I walked before him.
Inside the study, he poured us both a glass of sherry and said nothing until we had taken a sip. We stood before the fireplace facing each other. Our eyes met as we lifted the tiny glasses to our mouths.
“The time has come,” he said. “Unless you need longer to consider my question, I must ask for your answer. Do say if you require more time, as I am not in the habit of proposing, much less asking the question twice. Will you consent to be my wife?”
My heart was in my throat, and I had to swallow twice before speaking. “I do not need longer to consider it. I thank you for the honour, sir, but my decision remains the same. I cannot . . . I will not marry you.”
His colour rose, and his eyes darkened. Otherwise, he did not portray any outward indication of emotion. “Elizabeth, be very certain of what you are saying, for I shall not renew my addresses again.”
He held my eyes as though they were physically joined to his. I could not look away. “I am certain,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.
He blinked more than once, his eyes as black as midnight. “Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”
Placing the glass on a nearby table, he turned to depart the room, but I stopped him.
“Mr. Darcy, allow me to thank you for all that you did to protect me during the trial we were forced to endure. I shall never forget your kindness and — and your sacrifice.”
His eyes had been downcast as I spoke, and when he lifted them to meet mine, I began to tremble at the intensity of his gaze.
“Elizabeth, I shall never forget what happened between us in the cave. I cannot rid myself of the guilt I feel for taking advantage of you.”
I felt myself blush, remembering the intensity of his kiss and the shameless way I had responded. My voice shook as I attempted to make light of it.
“It is in the past and shall be forgotten if neither of us speaks of it again.”
“We are not the only ones who must remain silent.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you forgotten that the highwayman witnessed my transgression, and in his evil mind it appeared that we were both willing participants? He may well testify to the same in a public trial.”
My eyes widened at the thought, but I dismissed it. “That will not happen. Morgan would never betray — that is, I feel certain he will not speak of it.”
Mr. Darcy’s eyes narrowed at my words, and he held my gaze for the longest time.
“I see,” he finally said. “Then I shall leave. May God help you, Elizabeth.”
His voice broke and, turning quickly, he left the room.
What happened thereafter I did not witness, for I fled above stairs to my chamber and locked the door behind me. Throwing myself upon the bed, I gave way to the tears that had threatened to erupt all day.
I knew that I had just refused the only man I had ever loved and possibly could ever love. And why? Because I believed he did not love me. But what was that look about? That final shocking expression I had seen upon his face?
It was not long before my aunt and sister knocked at the door, as well as my father.
“Please go away,” I cried. “I cannot speak to anyone right now.”
They continued to ask admittance, but I refused. Never had I behaved so rudely in my aunt’s house or to my father. I simply could not face them, not when I felt as though my insides had been ripped from my body.
I cried until I made myself ill, having to grab the chamber pot and lose the little bit of dinner I had managed to eat earlier. Fortunately, by that time, my family had given up and left me to my misery. I washed my face and pulled off my clothes. I did not bother to find a nightgown, but crawled into bed in my chemise.
A half-hour or so later I heard a light tap at the door once again, and Jane’s gentle voice entreated me to grant her entrance. Sighing deeply, I rose and unlocked the door.
“Are you alone?” I asked before opening it.
When she replied in the affirmative, I turned the knob, and she gathered me into her arms.
“Oh, Lizzy, what have you done?”
“Destroyed all my chances of happiness.” I gave myself up to a good cry on her shoulder.
At length, she drew me to the bed, where she bade me lie down and then gently washed my face. I asked her what Mr. Darcy had said to them, and she told me that he had met privately with our father for a few moments, and then
he and his sister left the house. Caroline insisted that she and Mr. Bingley do the same shortly thereafter.
After the guests had departed, my father had said only that there would not be a wedding because I had refused Mr. Darcy.
“Papá is very upset, Lizzy. You must talk to him.”
“I know, and I shall tomorrow. I just cannot face anyone tonight but you.”
She hugged me again and crawled into the bed with me. “Talk to me. Make me understand why you will not marry Mr. Darcy.”
“He does not love me,” I said, my tone hopeless and defeated.
“He must care for you somewhat, else he would not have offered.”
“Oh, but he would. Can you not see that? He is a good man and willing to do the right thing. He is even willing to sacrifice his happiness to save my reputation. How can I allow him to do that?”
“Your opinion of Mr. Darcy is greatly altered. A week ago you would not have described him as either a good man or one capable of sacrifice.”
“True. But I am changed from the girl I was a week ago. The journey we were forced to endure has shown me the man’s true character, and I discovered the flaw in my own. I was deceived by my own prejudice, Jane.”
I then told her all that Mr. Darcy had related about Mr. Wickham and cautioned her that we must not reveal his despicable actions toward Miss Darcy. She was shocked and horrified, naturally, and could hardly believe it.
“Wickham so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. Darcy! Dear Lizzy, only consider what he must have suffered. Having to relate such a thing of his sister — it is really too distressing. And poor Wickham! There is such an expression of goodness in his countenance, such an openness and gentleness in his manner. Perchance it is all a mistake. Perhaps he is not quite so bad.”
“No, Jane,” I replied, shaking my head. “You cannot have it both ways. One man has all the goodness and the other all the appearance of it.”
She flopped down upon the pillow next to me, and we remained silent for awhile.
“Shall I blow out the candle?” I asked.
“If you wish, but I cannot make out one thing. Why do you insist that Mr. Darcy does not love you?”
I extinguished the candle before answering her. I lay down in the dark room and felt my loss anew.
“Never once did he mention the word, Jane. All of his reasons for marriage were practical and for my well-being. He never said he loved me. He did not even pretend to do so.”
“Many people marry without love. Do you not think it might naturally come about if you consented to be his wife? He does not appear to dislike you.”
“I cannot enter into such an unequal union.”
“Are not all marriages unequal? The husband is always the head over the wife, you know that.”
“I am aware of the law, but I refer to something entirely different.”
“What is it?”
“I shall not marry a man who does not love me when I know that I have fallen desperately in love with him.”
“Oh, dearest!” Jane pulled me close and allowed me to weep upon her shoulder once again.
“I want to go home — home to Longbourn where I am safe.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Surely Father will take us tomorrow if we but ask.”
He did not, however. We were to remain in London for some time to come.
Chapter Eleven
The next day was Sunday, and as was the custom in my uncle’s house, the entire household, including the servants, met for morning prayers. My uncle chose a passage from Proverbs for his reading. I sat next to Jane on the sofa, still sleepy from the night before, my eyes swollen from weeping. I confess I had a difficult time concentrating on the text, and my mind strayed until I heard the following words:
“There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which I know not: the way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man with a maid.”
The way of a man with a maid. Instantly I felt Mr. Darcy’s arms around me. I remembered his mouth caressing mine and how easily he had taken command of my senses. Yes, the writer spoke the truth. It was too wonderful to comprehend. And then I felt abashed that my mind had wandered so far from the scripture and to a scene that should have caused me shame. I willed myself to return to the present and heed my uncle’s reading.
“For three things the earth is disquieted, and for four it cannot bear: a servant when he reigneth; a fool when he is filled with meat; an unloved woman when she is married; and a handmaid that is heir to her mistress.”
An unloved woman when she is married. Once again, I was struck with the revelation of wisdom and the way my uncle’s choice in scripture applied to my life. I knew with certainty that neither the earth nor I could bear marriage to Mr. Darcy, knowing I was unloved.
Tears began to well up within me, and I kept my gaze lowered, thankful that we were now praying. I blinked several times, and with the final amen, I was able to restrain the signs of emotion stirred up by my thoughts.
Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, along with Jane and the children, left for church services shortly thereafter. My father had already said he and I would not attend because, in my present state, he felt I did not need the added burden of prying eyes.
As soon as they walked out the door, he asked me to accompany him into my uncle’s study. He sat down upon the tapestry-covered divan and patted the place next to him, indicating that I should join him.
“Now, Lizzy,” he said, taking my hand, “I am not about to scold you or even admonish you for your decision, although heaven help us when your mother hears that I have permitted you to refuse another proposal. You and I may have to take up residence in the stable when we return to Longbourn.”
“Oh, Father, I do not care. Let us return home this very day, and I shall gladly move into the barn.”
“Yes, well, let us hope it does not come to that. But I must ask why, Lizzy? Tell me the reason you have refused to marry Mr. Darcy. I know he is a proud, disagreeable man and has never paid proper attentions to you, but you are a sensible girl, able to overlook such slights and make the practical decision when called upon. I am afraid you will suffer for this, my dear, much more than you can imagine.”
I lowered my head and chewed my lip. “Perhaps, but I cannot marry him.”
“So he is a man of low character after all. Wickham’s wild tales have merit?”
“Oh no, Papá. Mr. Wickham’s inventions were just that — pure invention. Mr. Darcy possesses sterling character traits. He is generous, courageous, compassionate, and honest. He is not guilty of Mr. Wickham’s accusations.”
I had looked about the room as I talked, but when my eyes settled upon those of my father’s, I saw the furrow in his brow deepen.
“From this account, I would believe you think highly of the man. What on earth would make you refuse him?”
“I pray you do not demand an answer.” My eyes filled with tears in spite of my best efforts as I gazed upon his anxious countenance. I hated to cause him worry. “Trust me when I say I have made the right decision.”
He studied my expression for some time, but at last he patted my hand again, leaned over, and kissed my forehead.
“Very well, have it your way. I could never refuse you anything, and I will not cause you more distress.”
“And shall we go home today?”
“Not today, dear. You forget it is Sunday, and the coaches will not be available until the morrow, but first thing in the morning, I shall secure our tickets, and you and Jane and I shall leave on the mid-day excursion.”
“Thank you, Papá.” I kissed his cheek and, rising, selected a book from my uncle’s shelves before leaving the room.
“Lizzy,” he said before I reached the door, “I think you should know. Mr. Darcy said he would not make any announcement to the press and advised that we refrain from doing so, as well. The more time that elapses before it is made
known that there will not be a wedding, the better it will be for you.”
I nodded. That was kind of Mr. Darcy. He could have published it in the papers first thing — I knew that well — but once again, he attempted to protect me. Ah, well, I would leave London tomorrow and put all of it behind me.
* * *
We spent the remainder of the day quietly. My aunt and uncle returned from church with Jane and the children, and we sat down to a pork roast with all the trimmings. Jane had evidently told my relations enough that they did not question me as to my decision. I was grateful for their acceptance and understanding.
Indeed, I had a new appreciation for my family. I had always loved them dearly, but since returning, I felt their worth even more. I could hardly wait to see Mamá and my younger sisters, even though I had oft times done whatever I could to escape their presence. How easily we took each other for granted.
Jane and I took turns reading to the children that afternoon so that my aunt might take a nap. No matter how we tried, we could not persuade the two older children to lie down and rest. Both of them proclaimed they were too big for such babyish habits. The little ones, however, soon fell asleep, and Jane took our older cousins for a walk in the park. I would have gone with them but for the ever-present reporters still lurking outside the front door.
I meandered about the house, picked up several books and attempted to read, but could find nothing that held my interest. More than once, I wandered to the window, pulling the curtains back to peer outside.
What was I looking for? Did I expect to see Mr. Darcy come driving up, now ready to declare his undying love? Of course not. I knew without a doubt I should most likely never see him again, and the very thought made my heart ache.
Returning to my bedchamber, I lay down, vowing that I would take a long afternoon nap, but sleep would not come. Each time I closed my eyes I saw him standing there, that haunting expression about his eyes just before he walked out the door last night. What had it meant? Why could he not express his feelings? Why had I fallen in love with such a mysterious man, one of whose emotions I could never be sure?
