Sorrow and Second Chances

by E Bradshaw

  “Yes, of course,” she answered with a nod, and she fell into step by his side.

  For a long moment there was a tense silence between them as Darcy inwardly wondered how he should begin. Then Elizabeth surprised him by speaking first.

  “I wanted to thank you, sir, for all the kindness that you have shown towards my father and my sisters over the last two weeks,” she began. “I know it has meant a great deal to my father to have someone he can talk to at this difficult time. Indeed, I believe he trusts you a great deal, for he seems to be able to speak more freely with you than with any of our other neighbours or friends.”

  Darcy seized upon his opportunity. “You see me as a friend, then?” he asked in a hopeful tone as he glanced down at her.

  Elizabeth blushed slightly in response and did not dare to meet his eyes, he noticed, but to her credit she did not shy away from answering him. “Yes, you have been very good to us all,” she murmured. “I know my father values your friendship – and he always looks forward to your visits.”

  “But what about you?” he persisted daringly.

  “Me?” asked Elizabeth, as her cheeks flushed crimson and she fixed her eyes upon her moving feet.

  “Yes, you,” repeated Darcy. “Do you trust me? Do you look forward to my visits?” He took a deep breath before asking the question he most wished to know the answer to. “Should I hold out any hope that you now view me in a better light than you did before?”

  There, he had said it; he had finally asked her. He held his breath as he waited for her answer, though it seemed like a painfully long wait while he did. He glanced at her, noticing her uncomfortable expression and the way in which she nibbled on her bottom lip, and he wondered what she might be thinking. He hoped that she was just feeling embarrassed, rather than trying to find a suitable answer to let him down gently. Finally, just as he was wondering whether he should say something to fill the awkward silence between them, she gave him an answer.

  “Yes,” she whispered, with a brief sideways look up at him.

  “Yes?” he repeated disbelievingly.

  “Yes, I trust you; yes, I look forward to your visits. When we are not arguing, that is,” she added wryly.

  A small grin passed across Darcy’s face at that. “And should I hold out any hope?” he persisted. “Would I be welcome if I were to return again?”

  “You are leaving?” queried Elizabeth with a sudden, concerned look.

  Darcy was more elated by the concern which he saw in her expression than with anything else he had ever felt glad about before. Consequently, he could not help but smile widely at her as he replied. “Yes, I am leaving – but I will return if you tell me that I am welcome.”

  “Where are you going?”

  He noticed that she had not answered his question. “I am setting off to Pemberley today,” he explained. “I have a great many responsibilities waiting for me, and besides, I miss my sister.”

  “Have you been putting off your responsibilities because of us?” asked Elizabeth with a frown.

  Darcy shrugged, but he did not answer.

  “You have, haven’t you?” persisted Elizabeth. “It has been very kind of you to visit as you have, but you should not have put off returning home because of us.”

  “I cannot think of anything that was more important than making this return visit to Hertfordshire,” countered Darcy in a heartfelt tone, and he carefully watched Elizabeth for her reaction. He knew that she had understood his full meaning, for she briefly glanced up at him with an expression of surprise before quickly looking away again and anxiously biting on her bottom lip. He wished he could be blunt and tell her how extremely distracting it was to watch her do that; to tell her how much he wished he could take her within his arms and kiss her.

  Instead, he clasped his hands behind his back as he walked beside her, determinedly keeping control over himself and forcing himself to be patient.

  “I cannot give you any sort of answer at the moment,” Elizabeth finally answered as she shook her head. “I wish I could, but my emotions have been all over the place ever since my mother died. You have been very kind to me, Mr Darcy, but I still feel as though I hardly know you. I do not wish to offer you false hope by giving you an answer when I hardly know my own mind at the moment. It would not be fair – and especially not when I suspect that I have already injured you beyond forgiveness.”

  Darcy drew breath to respond to her words, but he hesitated when he glanced at Elizabeth’s face. She looked immensely troubled and it was clear that she was struggling to express what was in her thoughts.

  “You cannot know how deeply ashamed I have been of myself for my thoughtless conduct and for the way I spoke to you in the past,” she explained with a grief-stricken look. “To my utter shame, I now know how wrong I was to judge you as I did and to accuse you of ill treating Mr Wickham – when I now understand that nothing could be further from the truth. I wish I could tell you how sorry I am for my hasty judgements and my awful words. You are not the man I had assumed you were; you have been kind and considerate to me and my family, when I know very well that I do not deserve it. I have been a very selfish creature –”

  Darcy could listen to no more, and without really thinking about what he did, he abruptly cut off her words by putting out a hand to grasp her shoulder and suddenly stopped her in her tracks. “Please, Miss Bennet, I beg you, do not distress yourself,” he said softly. He brought his free hand up to grasp her other shoulder, turning her to face him as he did, and gazed earnestly into her eyes. He was aghast to see tears welling up within their depths, and he decided there and then to throw all caution to the wind and tell her honestly how he felt.

  “I cannot bear to hear you put yourself down in such a way,” he added with a kindly smile. “Yes, admittedly, some of what you said to me in the past was misguided, but you were absolutely right in everything else. I have been proud and conceited; I have shown a lack of consideration towards others – and you were the only person who has ever been honest enough or brave enough to tell me so to my face. I have learnt a great many important lessons because of you – and although they have been immensely painful, I thank you for them because I believe that your honesty is leading me to be a better man. Without your frankness, I would have carried on as I was before, but I want to be a better man – for you, Elizabeth.”

  He could easily see that he had astonished her, and he knew very well that he was skirting well over the line of acceptable conduct with his close proximity and with his use of her Christian name – but he felt that they had travelled well beyond the realms of proper conduct a long time ago. Somewhere between their heated argument at the Hunsford Parsonage and their private conversation in the dark of her bedroom, they had crossed an invisible line. They could never return to holding polite, stilted conversations about music or politics, or the state of the weather, when they had already bared so much of their inner souls to one another. Let other people conduct their courtships in such a way, he thought determinedly to himself, but he could remain silent no longer. If he had felt less for her then he might have been able to restrain his candour, but he knew he was well beyond that now.

  Elizabeth was regarding him with a look that was part astonishment and part apprehension, and so he gently released her shoulders and took a deliberate step back. He had no wish to alarm her or pressurise her, and so he drew a deep breath to steady himself and tried to explain himself more coherently. “I didn’t come here today to make you feel uncomfortable about the past, or to try and extract a promise from you about the future,” he began gently. “I simply came to say goodbye – and to find out if I should think of returning one day. I know how terrible it is to lose a parent; I remember how lost and utterly drained I felt when my own parents died, and so I have no wish to add a further burden to your shoulders.”

  He saw tears glinting in Elizabeth’s eyes as she looked up at him, though she appeared to be too choked up with emotion to respond in that moment.
Guessing that she might feel more comfortable if she were not forced to face him straight-on, Darcy indicated with a little gesture that they should continue walking together, and once again, Elizabeth wordlessly fell into step by his side. “I know you need time to grieve and to be alone with your family,” Darcy continued gently. “I have no wish to intrude upon that and so I have decided that it is best I leave for the time being. I want to give you space in which to think and time to heal. You are right in saying that you hardly know me, but I hope at least that I have made a better impression upon you than I did before. I hope you realise that I took your reproofs very much to heart and that I am trying to be a better man.”

  “You are too hard upon yourself,” interrupted Elizabeth in an earnest tone. “You are an honourable man and I was very wrong to speak to you as I did.”

  “But I was in the wrong in regards to my friend and your sister,” countered Darcy solemnly. “You were entirely right to be angry with me on that score.”

  “And yet, you seem to have made amends there, as far as I can see,” replied Elizabeth. “Mr Bingley has been a regular visitor here since your return, and I cannot help but think that he would not have come so often without your approval.”

  Darcy grimaced to realise how much influence he had hitherto held over his friend’s decisions. “I came clean and admitted the truth to Bingley,” he replied with a rueful look, “though it was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do. It was immensely distressing to see the hurt and disappointment in his eyes when he realised what a false friend I had been. He has proven himself to be a far more forgiving man than I could be in such a circumstance, and fortunately we have since put it all behind us. But I was very wrong to interfere in my friend’s affairs and I shall never do so again. Your sister is an excellent woman and I only hope that I can see the two of them happy together one day.”

  Elizabeth smiled slightly on hearing his praise for her sister, but she remained silent as they walked, and thus Darcy guessed that she must be feeling rather embarrassed. It was the first time that they had openly broached the extremely fraught topic of his failed proposal and their subsequent argument on that fateful day in Kent, and he appreciated that it wasn’t an easy discussion for either of them. He had dared far more in this conversation than he had originally planned to discuss with her, and though he was pleased that they had cleared the air between them – and was moreover immensely gratified to hear that Elizabeth held a much better opinion of him – he still wondered whether she would actually be pleased to see him return to Hertfordshire in the future.

  After a few more steps taken in silence, he decided to broach the subject again. “I will be in Derbyshire for a while,” he commented; “at least until after the harvest.”

  “And your sister is already there?” asked Elizabeth. She appeared relieved by the change of subject.

  “Yes, she is,” nodded Darcy. “Georgiana was with me in London, but she travelled onto Pemberley shortly after I arrived here in Hertfordshire. She wrote to me earlier this week to ask if I would soon be joining her, or whether I would be remaining here for a little longer.”

  “Your sister has heard about us?” asked Elizabeth in an uneasy tone.

  “Yes,” admitted Darcy somewhat self-consciously, “we have talked of you. My sister was very curious to hear more about you since I had previously mentioned you and your family in my letters.”

  Darcy took note of Elizabeth’s obvious unease at this disclosure, and he realised that she must be wondering if he had revealed the truth of their fraught history to his sister. Thus, he attempted to put her mind at rest a little. “I know that you have never met her, but Georgiana has heard a lot about your family, and she is eager to meet you all. She is a generous-hearted girl, but she is shy, and she finds it difficult to form friendships. I think that she would greatly enjoy meeting you and your sisters, though, for she has never known what it is like to be surrounded by other young women, and I think she would benefit a great deal from some lively company. Indeed, she has only one troublesome brother to keep her company,” Darcy added with a sideways smile in Elizabeth’s direction, “and since I hear that he is quite an unsociable, taciturn sort of person, I imagine it cannot be easy for the poor girl.”

  Elizabeth’s apprehension immediately dissipated at his joke, and her whole demeanour lightened as she suddenly laughed. “Indeed, I have heard the same about her brother,” she smiled back at him.

  Darcy grinned in response, feeling thrilled that the two of them seemed to have reached a more amicable place, especially since their relationship had so often been volatile in the past. In fact, he felt emboldened enough by Elizabeth’s animated smile to push her for an answer. “Would I presume too much if I were to introduce you to my sister one day?” he asked tentatively.

  He knew that Elizabeth had understood that his request had a much deeper significance from the way in which she suddenly blushed in response. Nevertheless, she nodded and directed a brief, warm smile in his direction. “I would be very pleased to make her acquaintance,” she answered generously. “Though I think that our encounter will have to wait for a few months,” she added shyly, “or at least until you next visit Hertfordshire.”

  Darcy silently released a breath that he hadn’t even realised he had been holding; he could hardly comprehend it, but he knew what her words had meant. He knew that he should not allow his hopes to rise too much, but nevertheless, he was thrilled to realise that Elizabeth was willing – eager, even – to see him again in the future. He knew her far too well by now to misconstrue her words or believe that she would give him such an answer just to be polite; he knew that if she had absolutely decided against him, she would have told him so directly to his face. She was much too scrupled and moreover far too honest to mislead him, or to pretend to have feelings that she did not have. Indeed, it was far more than he could ever have hoped for when he had first set off from London to attend her mother’s funeral, and in his great happiness he had to struggle mightily not to grin like a fool.

  Instead, he swallowed, nodded decisively and focussed his eyes on the garden before them as he answered. “These next few months are going to seem like a very long time,” he murmured quietly, “but at least I can leave knowing that we are on good terms with one another.”

  “Not just good terms, Mr Darcy,” answered Elizabeth with a shy smile in his direction, “but good friends. You have been very kind to me and my family over these recent days and I shall not forget it. You will be greatly missed while you are away and we shall... I shall look forward to your return.”

  They had walked a full circle around the grounds, and on hearing Elizabeth’s quite breath-taking words, Darcy decisively halted her again before they came into view of the house. He guessed that Elizabeth’s sisters might be peering out of the windows in the hopes of spying upon them, but he wanted their parting to be completely private. And nor could he part from her without making his own position entirely clear. Thus, he lifted her hand up to his lips and placed a reverent kiss upon the back of her knuckles.

  “Your friendship means a great deal to me, Miss Bennet,” he answered quietly, as he looked directly into her eyes, “but I hope you know that I will never be content with friendship alone.” He did not give her time to respond, though he heard her gasp softly as he bowed over her hand. “Until we meet again, Miss Bennet,” he said formally – and then he turned and marched decisively away from her before he could be tempted to push her for anything more.

  Chapter 10

  Early October 1812

  As he always did whenever he felt on edge or impatient over something, Darcy paced nervously up and down along the hallways of Pemberley as he struggled to suppress his tension. He should have known that his efficient team of staff would have everything under their control, but still he could not help but check and then re-check that all the arrangements were in order for his expected guests. A large party of friends were due to arrive that day, and he
felt both tense with nervous energy and sick with nerves. It was so important to him that everything was in order and that he made a good impression, and so he could not help but pace around and irritate his long-suffering (but fortunately, very forbearing) servants with his endless instructions. He felt that everything must be perfect – for it was none other than Elizabeth and her family who were coming to stay at Pemberley, and Darcy felt sure that this would be his opportunity to unequivocally demonstrate his intentions and to convince her that he would make a good husband to her.

  Although he had been kept very busy in the months since he had returned to his country estate, it had still seemed like a tortuously long time since he had last seen her. He had left Hertfordshire in early June, and in that time he had exchanged only a handful of letters with Mr Bennet. He was always eager for news from Longbourn, and no matter what he was doing or who he was with, he always found himself thinking of Elizabeth and her family and wondering how they all fared. Of course, there was no way he could write directly to Elizabeth since they had no formal agreement between them, and so he had instead been forced to content himself with hearing of Elizabeth and the rest of her family from Mr Bennet’s rather irregular and frustratingly brief correspondence.

  Needless to say, Darcy had not been able to ask directly after Elizabeth in his own letters, though he had sometimes thought that Mr Bennet had taken pity on him, for the older gentleman had found reason in more than one of his missives to mention Elizabeth and to write a little about her daily habits. Nevertheless, such brief letters were no recompense for actually seeing Elizabeth in person, and he missed her terribly. He had always carefully read and re-read Mr Bennet’s letters, closely analysing his words for any hidden meanings, but they never revealed anything of what he truly wished to know.

  Mr Bennet had told him of their brief visit to London to see their Gardiner relations, and he would relay little insights into how they were all passing their time, but other than that, Mr Bennet’s correspondence had given very little away. It did not reveal, for example, how Elizabeth and her sisters had been faring in the months since he had last seen them, nor if they were managing to adapt to their mother’s absence. He wanted to know if Elizabeth missed him as he missed her; if she ever thought of him; if she dreamt of him... and if she ever thought about his entirely unguarded words at their parting. Obviously, there was no way that he could ask such improper questions of Elizabeth’s father, of all people, and so he had instead been forced to be patient and wait until he could see her again.