His words touched her. Something in her understood his longing for her love, for acceptance: for she had once hungered to belong wholly to someone too. Her heart ached for him; for both of them.
“It is a dream,” she said, brokenly as she allowed herself one brief moment to tenderly stroke the rough contours of his cheek. “…a beautiful dream, but there is a real world out there. She looked up into eyes that gleamed black beneath the shadow of his brows. You are a good man; a beautiful man, but all for love and the world well lost is not the truth of it. We all have our place in this life and I have made promises, sir. You at least will understand that.”
She raised herself on her toes and softly kissed the corner of his mouth. With a choked sound he gathered her against him and held her tight. She rested her head on his chest and listened to the pounding of his heart. In the distance, the steps leading up to the front door shone white in the moonlight.
Stepping back, she brushed a shaking hand across her eyes and then looked up at him with an expression of determination on her face. “As we leave early, I will forgo breakfast tomorrow. Our paths are unlikely to cross again and so I bid you farewell.”
“You will forget me, you know,” she said, averting her eyes from the sight of his face and outstretched hand as she turned to walk away.
Chapter 32
Have I not seen the loveliest woman born
Because of her opinionated mind
Barter that horn and every good
By quiet natures understood
W.B. Yeats
Jane had been a particularly beautiful child and it had been said of her by the villagers of Longbourn that she been touched by magic at birth. While no one had ever called Elizabeth a changeling; she had been looked upon as a more perplexing, less attractive version of her sister and she had felt the difference throughout her childhood.
That she was not as blessed as Jane, was not something that she had ever articulated: it seemed to be self-evident - a ridiculous thing to make comment on. Nevertheless this belief was largely behind her conviction that no one could love her simply for herself as they did her sister. This was what had made it hard for her to believe in the love that she saw in Darcy’s eyes. Believing that someone could choose to love her was almost as hard as lowering her defenses and permitting herself to yield to the delight that coursed through her veins at his touch. To be chosen and cherished above all others by this man, challenged her deepest beliefs about herself.
As a young girl, Elizabeth had once been given a pomegranate: perhaps by her uncle Gardener – the event was now too misty to recall. What she did remember was the knife scoring the hard outer fruit and the beauty of the glistening rubies revealed within. Predictably, her carelessness had caused the sweet, red juice encapsulating the seeds to stain her best pinafore and this had brought on a fierce, public scold from her mother. In Elizabeth’s young mind, the pomegranate had somehow become connected to the tale of Pandora’s Box - a forbidden, glistening treasure trove that tempted but brought a great deal of trouble and humiliation in its wake. This was how she now viewed the mysterious, nebulous connection between herself and Darcy: it was beautiful, eminently desirable, but something to be looked at with suspicion: something that, deep within her, she knew she did not deserve.
On harvest night in the shadow of Pemberley’s oaks, she had touched Darcy’s cheek and kissed his mouth and allowed herself for one moment to believe in his love and to imagine how it could feel if she loved him in return. In that moment she had felt herself reaching out, using her fingers and mouth to express the exquisite ache that had flowed from her towards him. For a moment they had stood heartbroken but united and ever since then she had not been able to settle. Pandora’s Box was open and even though Elizabeth knew deep within herself that such intimacy with another was not for the likes of her, there was now a longing for what she could not have.
This upheaval in her emotions meant that the last week of her time away was spent trying to come to terms with what she might have had, and what she could realistically hope for. It seemed no longer possible to look with equanimity towards the future that she had once thought to share with Edmund. It was not enough for her. He was a good man but she could see now that he would make an indifferent husband at best. All of his passion was focused on his calling and over the last year he had made it abundantly clear that even their marriage would be subordinated to it.
In the light of Darcy’s words of love, Elizabeth began to see Edmund’s attitude as a form of selfishness. A man who would shut out the deepest feelings of those nearest and dearest to him was a cold man; even if he was focused on doing good deeds in the wider world. If they continued as they were, Elizabeth knew that there would come a time when resentment would drive her to point out this flaw to him. She could see that she was capable of making both him and herself very unhappy. It was better for both of them to end their relationship.
She began to long for home; was quietly pleased to say farewell to her cousins and impatient for the miles to pass a little faster. Secretly she hoped that at Longbourn, with the reality of daily life all around her, matters might magically right themselves: that she might look back on the events of her trip and know that her discontent with the future that Edmund offered had been a passing fancy. Only, it had not been so. She had been back almost a full day and nothing had changed. She felt no better. Indeed, she might even feel worse. She was irritable and disturbed. She was now certain that she would have to face him. Perhaps then she might regain her equilibrium.
Kitty (her ally in the house since the others had married) had rushed in and out, barely acknowledging her presence. She was seemingly caught up in the affairs of the parish. In fact it seemed that everyone had done very well without her. Apparently she was not essential to their well-being. She should have stayed on another week at Chalford as her aunt had pressed her to do: for she had not been home a day when her father’s dismissive humour and her mother’s shrill voice had begun to grate upon her. It seemed that nothing would cure her irritation but a long walk.
Although it was late in the afternoon and Jane and Charles were expected at Longbourn for dinner that evening, Elizabeth decided that she would anticipate their visit by several hours and spend some time in company with her eldest sister at Netherfield. Once Kitty told him that she was back, Edmund was sure to call at Longbourn that evening. She needed Jane to help her to clarify her thoughts before she met with him.
As she trudged down the lane towards Netherfield, Elizabeth felt something akin to guilty despair overwhelm her. While trying her best to be honest and respectful to all, she had led one man to believe that she loved him enough to marry him and had deceived another into believing that she could never care enough. How she had got herself into such a mess was a puzzle that she could not now unravel, but one thing that she knew with certainty was that the two men would not be alone in their suffering.
__________________________
Elizabeth found her sister sitting on the carpet in a pool of afternoon sunlight, surrounded by oddments of parlour bric-a-brac. Apparently little Charles was performing the essential task of bringing each item in the room to his mother in return for a kiss and an expression of her heartfelt thanks. The game was now expanded to include his Aunt Elizabeth and continued for some time until the inevitable happened and the toddler tripped on the edge of the carpet, banging his nose. There was a huge display of outraged distress and much kissing of the affected part. Then Jane said, “He’s tired. Do you want to come with me while I put him down for a short sleep, Lizzy?”
“I’ll wait here, I think.”
Some fifteen minutes later Jane returned.
“I’m so sorry, Lizzy but that’s the way it is with children. Everything has to be done on the instant. They don’t tolerate delay as well as we do.”
“As you do, Jane. I find that I don’t like waiting at all.”
“Yes. But then you never have. So, how was your holiday?”
Elizabeth searched for a run-of-the-mill response. “On the whole, it was good. The time I spent away cleared my mind.”
“And have you come to any resolution with regard to Edmund?”
“I have, Jane,” she began carefully, having decided to do the least damage by severely editing what she confided to her sister. “It is as you thought. I don’t believe that Edmund and I are really suited. We make excellent friends. We are similar in both temperament and intelligence – but in the end, I came to the conclusion that we are perhaps a little too alike.”
“Surely being similar should make it easy for you to understand one another? Wouldn’t that make for a more harmonious marriage?”
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth thought quickly and then added, “But where is the mystery? We work well together because we think the same, but when we are in company or alone together (which admittedly has not been very often) I find that I can predict with some certainty what he will say next and his experience is, no doubt, similar. There is very little challenge and even a certain amount of boredom in that. Certainly, there will be little to explore as the years go by. It’s hard to imagine now why I thought that it would work.”
“This is a departure! I thought that you might reconsider, Lizzy, but I never imagined that the similarities between you and Edmund would be the reason you would terminate the courtship. I thought that if you decided against him, it would be because of the difficulty of being the wife of a man who could barely support his wife or children. Mind you, I don’t condemn Edmund for that. He is one of that rare species: an idealistic vicar. Such men are probably the reason for the saying ‘poor as a church mouse’.”
Here Jane’s eyes took on a dreamy look as she let her mind meander into the complicated realm of mouse economics. “If the church can’t offer a decent living to a church mouse; what hope is there for a vicar who chooses to follow Christ’s example? A man who gives up everything material should be supported in some way so that he can still have a family,” she murmured, almost to herself, shaking her head regretfully.
Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled as she listened to her sister’s confused deliberations. She couldn’t resist indulging her sense of humour.
“You are laying all the blame on the church; but can one equate a mouse with a vicar? Just to begin with, their motivations are different. Church mice are considered poor because there is no food stored in a church, Jane. Mice live by their wits and those that are silly enough to live in churches all starve without exception. At this juncture, I think that I should point out that I never met a principled mouse. They are all thieves and they don’t have wives or household budgets, so one would have to conclude that they not in the same league as an idealistic vicar at all. He has chosen poverty not because he is silly; but in order to serve the greater good.”
Then she smiled sweetly at her sister’s confused embarrassment.
“Tell me, when are we to hear that you are expecting again? I remember you being just this illogical when you were carrying Little Charles.”
Jane shook her head in amazement but a secret smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. “You know me too well, Lizzy. To be honest, I’m not completely certain. Until I am, you are to say nothing to Mama or Charles.”
“I won’t. You know that you can rely on me to keep a secret…’
She shifted impatiently in her seat. “Jane, I hate to change the subject back to Edmund, but would you mind if I used you as a sounding board to get my mind in order before I see him.”
“Yes, but all this talk about the similarities between you confuses me, Lizzy. Perhaps I am a little dim nowadays, but I think it will confuse Edmund too. You should tell me what really made you change your mind about him and then I can help you.”
Elizabeth stopped speaking for a moment. Jane had unknowingly touched on the heart of the matter. Nevertheless, there were still parts of her tale that Elizabeth preferred to keep to herself, so she paused to think and then said reluctantly, “It comes down to the fact that there is something lacking between Edmund and myself, Jane. As you have just pointed out, principles don’t put food on the table. Facing poverty together would be difficult; but if I truly loved Edmund, I wouldn’t have allowed it to affect my thinking. Also, just the fact that I was happy to accept the constant deferral of our marriage plans, shows me that I don’t love him. I have come to the conclusion that, while I admire Edmund, respect is not enough.”
Alerted, Jane looked at her sister more speculatively. “You used to think that respect was everything. What has changed? Did you meet someone new while you were away?”
“No. Nobody new,” said Lizzy, crossing her fingers behind her back as she flirted with the truth – after all, it wasn’t really a lie. They had all known Darcy for quite some time.
Elizabeth had decided not to tell Jane about her encounter with Darcy because her sister was quite capable of connecting it to her changed attitude towards Edmund. From there it would be a small leap for Jane to imagine that Elizabeth had fallen madly in love. Knowing Jane, there was a strong possibility that she would then persuade Charles to let Darcy know that her sister was now free. The pressure of jumping out of one relationship into another was not what Elizabeth wanted at all.
“Hmm,” said Jane, breaking into Elizabeth’s thoughts. “Essentially, what you have to tell Edmund is that you were confused but you’ve finally realised that in marriage, respect is not enough… that you have never loved him and you can’t see that changing.”
“Yes. I suppose that’s the truth of it. But it sounds so horrible: so hurtful. I’m dreading it. I was going to go down to the village this morning to get it over with, but Kitty said he would be away until after lunch. Perhaps she will have seen him during the course of the afternoon and told him that I am back. It might be that he will call at Longbourn this evening. If that is the case, I rely on your support to distract Mama and give me a few minutes on my own with him.”
“Of course… Now there’s another one who’s changed,” murmured Jane. Then looking at Elizabeth’s puzzled expression, she explained: “Kitty has blossomed since you have been gone. She was a little nervous initially. She even asked my advice once or twice. But she hasn’t called around very much lately. And two Sundays ago at Longbourn, she couldn’t stop talking about her parish work.’
“But to return to the subject: you are going to look very inconsistent in Edmund’s eyes, you know, Lizzy. He will probably point out – and with some justification - that he is just the same man as he ever was and that if he is no longer good enough for you, then you are the one who has changed.”
“I know and he would be right. It took me a while, but I have realized that I have no overwhelming need to share his life. The truth is that I have always been content on my own. And with the hardships we would have to face, I came to the conclusion that there was a real possibility that I would make us both unhappy if we married,” said Lizzy, taking the blame on herself, while deliberately glossing over Edmund’s lack of passion and the role that Darcy had played in showing her what she would be missing in a loveless marriage.
“Perhaps it’s just as well that Kitty is enjoying parish work,” Jane said. “Edmund will need someone to rely on just now. I should imagine that things might be a little awkward between you for quite a while. In fact, I can’t see you being able to resume your duties. I think I ought to warn you that you are going to come into some condemnation from people of Meryton, Lizzy. Edmund has become very popular since the successful outcome of the harvest.”
Elizabeth sighed resignedly. “I know, Jane. It was my mistake and I must take the consequences.”
____________________________
“Don’t look at me as if I should be surprised, Lizzy,” said her mother much later that evening, as she put aside her cup and plate of cakes in order to launch into speech. “I have been waiting for this announcement since you came back. Normal people don’t prolong courtships for years and years. You should never have ent
ered into the arrangement in the first place. You should have stood back for your sister. As it is, you’ve not only wasted your own time but hers and, I daresay his as well,” said Mrs. Bennet scornfully.
“Stood back for Kitty?”
“Of course, Kitty. Who else? She had her eye on him long before you did. She would have had him too, if not for you. Had that been the case, he would have been a vastly different man. There would have been children and none of this nonsense of not heating the house in winter; wearing old coats with fraying cuffs and depriving himself to give from his personal income to the poor. Kitty at least, is a sensible girl and knows that a man must be managed.’
“But you encouraged all his idealistic nonsense; and the result of it is that he will always be fancying you to be his soulmate, his first and only love. He will be heartbroken - the poor man. Who knows how long Kitty will have to wait before he gets over it.” Mrs. Bennet nodded her head with satisfaction at the thought of all the misery that had been caused by her daughter’s willfulness.
Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably on her chair. While she doubted some of her mother’s claims, her interpretation of events as a whole did sound plausible. However, she would not accept blame without a fight.
“Edmund is an adult, Mama. He was a person of strong convictions and fixed behaviour when I met him. I did nothing to make him alter his way of life and I very much doubt that Kitty would be able to make him abandon his ideals. You say that he is heartbroken, but I saw nothing of that this evening. He appeared to take the end of our courtship quite calmly.”
She stopped to think. “And another thing, no one told me that Kitty was in love with him.”
“Of course we didn’t. You should have been able to see how she felt. I certainly did. But you don’t see what is in front of your nose: just like you don’t realise how much that man loves you. ‘Took the news calmly’ indeed! What did you want him to do? Lose his dignity and break down in front of you perhaps?” said her mother, her voice dripping with contempt.
The Golden Apples of the Sun Page 28
