So Far Away

by P. O. Dixon

  “I am glad you understand.”

  “What I understand is that my sister will be devastated by this development. I am aware that you only arrived in town yesterday, which must be your excuse for not informing Elizabeth that you are encumbered. I expect you to tell her today.”

  ~*~

  Elizabeth’s busy mind did not know what to make of what was happening. Mr. Darcy had not called on her as promised, leaving her with little choice other than to conjecture the meaning of his cousin’s words the evening before on her own. Wanting to escape the confines of the house in order to dwell on those matters that must surely exasperate her, Elizabeth grabbed her wrap and headed outside. Ever vigilant, Miss Greene soon followed.

  Elizabeth had not walked very far when, to her surprise, she espied Mr. Darcy straight ahead. No doubt, he meant to call on her at her home. She considered it quite fortunate that they would spend time together, just the two of them, without exciting her mama’s hopes that he might actually be calling on her sister Kitty. Turning to her companion, Elizabeth asked for time alone with Mr. Darcy.

  “I shall allow a discrete distance between us, but His Grace would object were I to abandon you altogether,” said Miss Greene.

  “Yes, and we both know that what His Grace wants His Grace gets, do we not?”

  “I am merely doing my job, my lady.”

  “Pray, forgive my shortness, Miss Greene.” By now, Darcy and Elizabeth were mere steps apart. Nodding to her companion as a means of tacitly commanding her to stay right where she was, Elizabeth walked to where Darcy stood.

  He bowed and she curtsied. Darcy said, “I was on my way to see you. Are you expected elsewhere?”

  “No, sir, I simply wanted time away from the house—to take in the fresh air.”

  “May I walk with you?”

  “I do not know that I can stop you, sir, if that is your desire.”

  “You’re angry with me. I am sure I know the reason. There is much for us to discuss,” he said, falling in step beside her. “Allow me to start by apologizing for my cousin’s unseemly behavior last evening at the theater.”

  “You surprise me, sir. You have never taken it upon yourself to apologize for your cousin’s rudeness before. Why are you doing so now? Or does the fact that others are wishing the two of you joy oblige you to speak for her?”

  “It was wrong of Lady Victoria to insinuate that our situation called for such felicitations. She meant to rattle you with premature suppositions.”

  “Premature suppositions? Speak plainly, Mr. Darcy.”

  Darcy commenced telling Elizabeth everything that he had told Avery earlier but in terms more suitable to her maidenly sensibilities. Throughout his speech, Elizabeth colored, she fumed, and she silently questioned.

  Does he honestly expect me to believe that he is being falsely accused of fathering a child? That his cousin’s claims cannot possibly be true, because he has no remembrance of any such transgression? Does he suppose I am completely naïve?

  “My stance is that my cousin’s duplicity will soon become known. Patience and a sufficient passage of time is all this situation requires.”

  Elizabeth could not believe she was hearing him correctly. She said nothing.

  As if taking Elizabeth’s silence as encouragement to push forth the merits of his proposal, Mr. Darcy pressed on. “Elizabeth, you asked me to wait for you, and I did. Is it too much for me to ask that you wait for me?”

  “How dare you compare the two situations? I asked for time to reunite with my family, not wait to see if a child is the consequence of a union that you will not even acknowledge.”

  Searching her face for a modicum of understanding and finding none, he persisted. “I cannot acknowledge that of which I have no remembrance.”

  “What does that even mean, Mr. Darcy? Either the two of you shared intimacies that ought to be reserved for a husband and wife or – heaven forbid – a man and his mistress, or you did not.”

  He swept his fingers through his hair. “She cared for me when I was recovering from the injuries I sustained in the carriage accident. I was in and out of consciousness. Those weeks are lost to me, but I am sure that, had I engaged in such intimacies as she suggests occurred, I would remember.”

  “And if a child is born then what do you plan to do, sir?”

  “I am obligated to marry her.”

  “But what if the child is not yours?”

  “Then I am obliged to save her.”

  Elizabeth was unable to hide the pain in her voice. “You love her?”

  “No—no, not in the way you mean. I love you. I have always loved you. I always will love you—only you. I want to spend my life with you.”

  “Then how exactly do you feel about her?”

  “I … I love her as a cousin ought to love a cousin.”

  Elizabeth’s heartbeat thundered with rage. Her temper she dared not vouch for. “If you love her, then for heaven’s sake, go … be with her. Many a marriage has survived with less affection than you profess towards your cousin. As much as she loves you, no doubt she will be everything you would wish for in a wife.”

  He shook his head. “You’re wrong. You are everything I wish for in a wife.”

  “Were that the case then you would not be doing this.”

  “Would that it were only that simple.”

  “As I do not quite see the complication that you continue alluding to, I do not see that there’s any point in further discussion. Take this—” she struggled, but managed to rip the gold necklace from her neck, sending the single white pearl flying through the air “—and take your broken promises and pray leave me alone, Mr. Darcy!”

  Her severe reaction coupled with her biting tone pierced him deeply. No doubt, she was in pain. He was in pain too. This situation was agonizing for both of them. Surmising hers was greater than his due to its suddenness, he reached out his hand to her, not to accept the necklace, but to comfort her. “Elizabeth, my love?”

  She recoiled from his touch. “Do not refer to me in such endearing terms! I never wish to hear you speak to me in such a manner ever again. Goodbye, Mr. Darcy.”

  With those words, she hastily turned and set off in Miss Greene’s direction. The turmoil in Elizabeth’s mind was now painfully great. She quickly outpaced her companion, still clutching the broken chain he had refused to accept. She had trusted this man, depended upon him, loved him.

  How dare he betray me in such a manner as this? I shall never forgive him!

  Chapter 22 ~ Utterly Uncontrolled

  All the gloom of Lydia’s attitude was cleared away when she received a letter from her particular friend, Mrs. Harriet Forster, the wife of the regiment encamped outside of Meryton. The letter was but a single sheet and covered with words scratched across every possible inch of the page. It spoke of Harriet’s boredom now that Lydia was in London. She would like nothing better than for Lydia to be her particular guest when the militia set up camp in Brighton.

  Lydia’s enthusiasm on this occasion was scarcely to be contained.

  “Oh, Mama, may I please, please go to Brighton with my friend?”

  “I do not know that that is such a wise idea. Besides, your prospects of finding a rich husband are much brighter here in town.”

  “But, Mama, how am I to meet anyone when I am not even allowed to attend any of the elegant balls? I am sure I will find Brighton far more diverting. Besides, that is where all the officers will be: Mr. Wickham, Mr. Denny.”

  “Oh, Lydia. It is so unfair that Lizzy will not allow you to accompany her to the balls along with Jane, Mary, and Kitty, but I do not know that it will be fair to deny the older girls their share of fun here in town by cutting their visit short.”

  “Whatever do you mean? My sisters are not invited to come.”

  “Surely you do not suppose I will allow you to travel to Brighton without a mother’s supervision? Why, I must remain here with your sisters to see that they are making the most of their time i
n town to find rich husbands.”

  “In traveling to Brighton as my friend Harriet’s guest, I am certain to be well supervised, for she is a married woman and her husband is the colonel. What better assurance do you need that I will be well looked after?”

  Mrs. Bennet placed her finger on her chin. “I suppose you have a point. Indeed, it sounds like a very agreeable scheme. I know that, were I able to travel to Brighton, I most certainly would. A little sea-bathing would set me up forever, but first you must speak with your father to obtain his permission.”

  With that bit of encouragement, Lydia happily skipped off. Of course her father would say yes. When had he ever given himself the trouble of answering no to any of her petitions? She was mightily tempted to turn a somersault mid-stride, and she would have if she had been out of doors. “I’m going to Brighton,” she said, her voice a merry tune. “I’m going to Brighton.”

  ~*~

  Elizabeth was not equal to the task of facing anyone after seeing Mr. Darcy—not her sister Jane, not Avery, who would be annoyed that she and Darcy even had a secret understanding in the first place, and not Lady Sophia, who would know better than anyone would how wounded Elizabeth was as a result of this disheartening change of fortune. She certainly did not want to be bothered with her mama’s foolishness about finding husbands for her daughters at such a time as this. She did not have to, for, immediately upon entering the house, she discerned that the urgency of Lydia’s situation outweighed her own distress.

  Elizabeth was all too aware that young Lydia was not happy about being away from Meryton. Indeed, she had gone from being everybody’s darling in the confines of Meryton to rather insignificant in London. Not only was she not so rich as the other young ladies, her wild behavior, whenever she was allowed to have fun with her sisters, made her more of a spectacle than an object of admiration among the gentlemen who sought women with either fortune, connection, or both, as prospective brides.

  All that would change were she to travel with the Forsters to Brighton, for she had always been a favorite of the officers—they noticed her and made her feel special. In Lydia’s imagination, a visit to Brighton comprised every possibility of earthly happiness. She saw, with the creative eye of fancy, the streets of that gay bathing-place covered with officers. She saw all the glories of the camp—its tents stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded with the young and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet. To complete the view, she saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly flirting with at least six officers at once. A season in London that confined her to the occasional exhibition or play was nothing by comparison.

  Vain, ignorant, and utterly uncontrolled, Lydia wants only encouragement to make herself an embarrassment to us all. If ever there was a time when her sister needed reigning in, this was it. Elizabeth knew that she would have to be the one to prevail upon her father to deny Lydia such opportunity.

  Mr. Bennet listened to Elizabeth attentively and seeing she was so passionate and her plea so ardent, he affectionately took her by the hand. “Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. I fail to see the harm in allowing her to go. She has been miserable since coming to town, and, as you well know, when Lydia is miserable the entire household is miserable, for she will not have it any other way.”

  “But, Papa, a young girl with Lydia’s exuberant spirits will surely find herself in trouble with so much temptation, and so little supervision, and absolutely no parental guidance.”

  “I trust the colonel and his wife will see that she comes to no harm.”

  “With all due respect, the colonel will be busy with his own affairs, and his wife is scarcely more than a child herself.”

  “I am afraid the decision is made. Lydia will go to Brighton, and I shall enjoy a peaceful reprieve while she is gone.”

  “Is that all you ever think about?”

  He reared back his head. “I beg your pardon, young lady?”

  “Sir, you speak of Lydia’s going away as the difference between you enjoying peace versus turmoil—as though that is all that is at stake, when really it has nothing at all to do with your comfort and everything to do with your daughter’s safety and your family’s reputation.”

  Letting go of Elizabeth’s hand, Mr. Bennet steeled his expression. “I will not be told how I shall and shall not behave as regards my family’s safety or even my family’s reputation, not by you—not by anyone. Do you understand me? No one knows how I have suffered. How I decide to bear my lot in life is no one’s concern but my own.”

  “It is a father’s job to protect his family, not ridicule them and send them away when they do not meet with his pleasure.”

  “How do you know what a father should and should not do when your greatest example in that regard was a detestable child abductor whom you foolishly consider as someone worthy of esteem despite all the prevailing wisdom to the contrary?”

  Elizabeth recoiled at the cold hearted and hurtful manner of his reproach. When would he see that she would never allow herself to learn to hate the late duke, despite what he had done? The man who had committed those unspeakable crimes was not the man she remembered—the man whom she had adored for the better part of her life.

  If only her papa had it in him, if not to forgive, then surely to show some understanding and compassion. She would not entertain that discussion with him again—not in that moment. Disappointed and sorry, yet forced to be content that she had done her part in protecting her sister, she left him to his book. She did not intend to increase her vexations by dwelling on them. She was confident of having performed her duty, and there was nothing more to do.

  Besides, there was the matter of her painful parting of ways with Mr. Darcy. A part of her insisted that no good would come from dwelling on what might have been, even though her heart whispered it would be a long time before she would understand or forgive him for what he had done.

  Chapter 23 ~ So Far Away

  Avery sought out Elizabeth later that evening to determine how she had left things with his friend. “I spoke with Darcy this morning at the club.”

  “Then you know that he and his cousin—”

  Avery interrupted Elizabeth. “I know that he has wounded you deeply and, depending upon how things unfold, I do not know that I will ever forgive him.”

  “You knew?”

  “I’m not blind, Elizabeth.”

  “I feel like such a fool.”

  “You have no reason to feel that way. You did nothing wrong. You followed your heart. Things do not always unfold as we plan. I, too, have had to examine the workings of my heart because of all this. I am afraid you and mother will not be pleased with what I am about to tell you.”

  “What is it, Avery?”

  “You see, in my haste to chastise Darcy for his ill-treatment toward you, I realized that I have behaved just as poorly with the woman I love. This afternoon, I made amends for my inattentiveness. I offered Miss Hamilton my hand in marriage, and she accepted. Margaret is to be the next Duchess of Dunsmore.”

  Elizabeth’s stunned silence encouraged Avery to continue. “You have nothing to say? I know you never liked her, but I expect you to pretend to be happy for me.”

  “Indeed, I wish you great joy, Avery.”

  “Your tone insists otherwise, dear Sister, but I suppose you will come around in time.”

  “Yes, in time. I suppose we shall be privy to a fair degree of her company now that you are officially engaged.”

  “Indeed. Her family will dine with us early next week. By then I am confident our mother will have accustomed herself to the fact that the next Duchess of Dunsmore does not descend from noble lineage.”

  Endeavoring to lighten the atmosphere for Avery’s sake, Elizabeth said, “Oh dear! That reminds me of something.”

  “What, pray tell?”

  “You listed the members of our family who will not be pleased to hear of your engagement, but you neglected to mention my mama. You have not the slightest notion of what th
e loss of yet another potential son-in-law will do to her poor nerves.”

  “I know what you’re doing, Elizabeth. You are trying to hide your pain for the sake of my joy. If I have one regret with the timing of all this, it is that it coincides with your heartbreak.”

  “I’m certain that, in time, any anguish I’m now suffering will fade.” Again, her voice filled with optimism that she did not feel. “Besides, I’ve heard it said that the endings of all things are but the beginnings of other, more beautiful things to come. It is only fitting that you should know the joy you are no doubt feeling. You’ve certainly waited long enough.”

  “I did not mean for my joy to overshadow the heartache you must be feeling. I know how much you esteem Darcy and, likewise, how deeply he cares for you.”

  “Indeed. He promised he would wait for me.” She shrugged. “So much for promises.”

  Avery took Elizabeth by the hand. “I do not know what Darcy told you, but he has assured me that this situation is not of his choosing.”

  “I cannot agree. One always has a choice. He chose his cousin.”

  “You know that, as much as I do not want this, I have asked Darcy to stay away. Trust me, it is better this way. Darcy is an honorable man, but until this matter is resolved one way or another, it is better that he keeps his distance from you.”

  ~*~

  Elizabeth and Darcy had not crossed paths in weeks. As she did not intend to shrink from society and, in so doing, add to her misery, she went about the business of enjoying all the Season’s gaieties. She surmised that he was the one eschewing society. It was just as well, for the last thing she wanted or needed to see was Mr. Darcy parading about with his cousin Lady Victoria.

  Elizabeth may not have seen Darcy, but that was not to say he had not seen her. On one particular evening, Darcy stood on the balcony overlooking a crowded ballroom floor. He had but one purpose in mind, that being to gaze upon her from a discrete distance. He saw her standing there with her sisters Miss Bennet and Miss Mary by her side. How lovely she looked. He was certain that he could stand there and gaze upon her all night. He longed for the right to go to her and request a set. His blindness to his cousin’s faults had stripped him of that privilege. He silently chastised himself, for he had no one to blame but himself. We are so close, yet so far away.