by Rose Lorimer
She paused and stared at us, her next words filled with tension. “I have inquired in town about t-these… these things, and it seems my father’s acquaintance was right! At first, I did not believe it could be true — you know, g-ghosts — otherwise I would never have agreed to accompany Elizabeth here. But many people swear they have heard the n-noises… the c-cries…”
It took all my strength not to roll my eyes.
Elizabeth must have noticed my annoyance for her eyes turned to me, filled with mirth. “Why, Mr Darcy! Do you not believe in ghosts?”
I raised one of my eyebrows in defiance and cleared my throat. I was not inclined to tolerate nonsense. “No, I do not.” She arched her eyebrows, encouraging me to elaborate. I sighed. “I am not exactly a religious man per se, Miss Elizabeth, but as I told you, I attend services regularly and like to read the Bible. I believe there is a verse that says ‘people are destined to die once, and after that to face judgment’. So, as you see, if I believe the Bible is correct, I cannot believe the dead can return to haunt the living.”
“They say everyone with good sense should avoid these parts of the coast,” Miss Wiley insisted. “People have died there. How do you explain what the locals say, sir, about the curse and the noises and the ghosts?”
“I am afraid, I do not,” I retorted. “I do not profess to know all the answers, Miss Wiley, but if my convictions are strong enough to keep my faith, I am sure, if I were to give myself the trouble to look for those answers, I would find a reasonable explanation for them.”
I looked back at Elizabeth and by her smile, she seemed satisfied with my answer.
“I believe we must be arriving,” Richard said, moving his head towards the window.
I looked outside and confirmed he was right. The white sands of Sennes Cove were just below the hill where we were. Five minutes later, the carriage stopped, and the footman was already opening the door and unloading our things. “H-How long do you plan to stay, sir?” he asked.
Something in his voice caught my attention. “We must leave by half-past two. We do not want to travel in the dark.”
I might have imagined it, but he seemed relieved. Was this ghost nonsense a real concern in these parts as Miss Wiley had mentioned?
Richard put a carpet on the ground and sat on it. Miss Elizabeth and Miss Wiley joined him. I preferred to stretch my legs and walk towards the water, attracted by its mighty roar.
Despite the cold, the day was sunny and very pleasant. I removed my hat and turned my face to the sun, enjoying its warmth. The surrounding scenery and combination of colours could not be more astonishing. White sands and waves breaking in the surf contrasted with the green-brownish carpet of heather covering the hills. The light blue extended from the four corners of the sky gifting us a perfect day for a picnic.
Loud gasps and giggles caught my attention, and I looked back just in time to see a lost bonnet flying away on a gust of wind. Elizabeth was just behind it, running. Suspiciously enough, Richard — intentionally or not — seemed too busy with one of the food hampers to notice her.
I scowled and hesitated, and then I ran after the stubborn object, keeping my eyes on it as I muttered complaints against Richard and his supposed appetite. Was I to believe he was so focused on his food that he could not help her?
The bonnet finally stopped and I leaned to fetch it. My head bumped into something and I groaned, falling on my knees. Rubbing my head, I opened my eyes and saw Elizabeth sat on the sand, grimacing, her hand on her forehead.
What had I done? Annoyed with my clumsiness and, moved more by instinct than concern, I went to her and I took her face in my hands, turning the wounded part towards me. There was a fresh red mark there. “I am very sorry, Miss Elizabeth. I should have seen you coming,” I said, caressing her face. A sudden need to kiss it took me by surprise and I closed my eyes. Silly as it could be, I remembered one of the few admonitions my mother used to give: “The heart cannot desire what your eyes cannot see. So, stay away from that apple pie!”
I felt her hand resting on mine. My eyes opened and our gazes met. The depth of her green eyes was so compelling I felt my heart undecided between beating faster or stopping completely.
She took a deep breath and smiled. “It was not your fault. I am sure I will survive.”
Chapter 12
Elizabeth
Butterflies! Dozens of them plaguing my stomach. For some seconds I could not breathe. But I knew he was blaming himself for our awkward encounter. The man seemed to carry the whole world on his shoulders. I put my hand on his to reassure him I was equally guilty, but my heart stopped when he opened his eyes. Their intense blue was like a storm. I felt lightheaded and took a deep breath, keeping my resolve. “It was not your fault. I am sure I will survive.”
Slowly, he released my face, sitting beside me on the fluffy sand.
A sneeze interrupted the moment.
“Bless you,” I said, concerned. “I hope you are not suffering from yesterday’s rain?”
As soon as the words left my lips I already regretted them. We had not talked about it yet, and I was not sure how Mr Darcy was feeling about it. If I knew him at all, he would be feeling quite embarrassed by now.
He was looking for something in his pockets when he stopped upon hearing my words.
“Here, take mine,” I said, producing a handkerchief from my reticule.
His gaze rested on my hand and he frowned. “How did you know I was there?” he asked, his low voice hinting I was correct in my previous assumptions.
“When I went down to eat, I found Charles putting on his coat, preparing to leave. He told me of his business at the port and mentioned you had received a letter, and that it would be good for me to keep you company. On the way to the breakfast room, I stopped at one window and saw you on the bench. But then, you fell on your knees. I could not see your face but I guessed it must have been sad news. When the rain began and you did not move, I thought I should do something.”
He took the handkerchief but did not use it. Instead, he examined it. I smiled as he carefully passed his finger over my embroidered initials ERB. “What is the ‘R’ for?”
“Rose. My name is Elizabeth Rose Bennet. That is why there is a rose in the other three corners. You see?”
He raised his gaze to me, but his expression was sad. “It is beautiful. Suits you…” He stopped, looking back at the handkerchief as if all the answers to his problems were in there. “You must be wondering what happened to me yesterday. Even I cannot believe my pathetic—”
“Mr Darcy, please… do not disparage yourself. From the little I know of you, I am sure you must have had a good reason. You are not a man prone to ungentlemanly behaviour…” I paused, considering the wisdom of my next words. “But I also know your true feelings remain hidden, faraway from the eyes of others. Forgive me if I am being impertinent, but everyone has a limit.”
He stared at me, then sighed. “You could not be more correct.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “But it seems my secrets are translucent before your eyes. How is it possible you know me so well, Miss Elizabeth?”
“It must be my superior intellect!”
His smile did not reach his eyes. “I owe you an explanation.”
“You owe me nothing. But if you really want to explain, do it because you consider me a friend.”
He lowered his eyes again. “I do.”
In the next minutes, Mr Darcy told me about the reasons behind his lack of appetite and sleepless nights. He told me about his life, one sad event after another: his parents’ death, his sister’s disappointment, and his former friend’s betrayal and recent death. He also told me of another betrayal but did not share it in that moment.
I could not help myself. While he opened his heart to me, I gently took one of his hands and held it. He seemed to have taken courage from it. I knew it because as the painful sequence of facts was being disclosed, he squeezed it when trapped in emotional moments.
For the
first time since meeting him, I understood his pain and the burden he was carrying. It broke my heart. But it was a relief to know he did not despise me, that most of his reticent behaviour was because of disappointments, shame and guilt.
Once he had finished, he seemed exhausted and excused himself, going for a walk.
Colonel Fitzwilliam soon joined me. “Is everything well, Miss Bennet?” he asked, looking towards where his cousin was walking.
“Yes, Colonel. Thank you. Mr Darcy was just telling me what happened to him yesterday.”
He arched his eyebrows. “Good. I am glad Darcy had the courage to talk to you. You know, Miss Bennet, Darcy is too reserved and sharing personal things is never easy for him. I believe I am the only one he can really trust — well most of the time at least.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, even I had an unpleasant surprise when Darcy concluded some business without seeking my opinion. In the end, it brought him a lot of suffering.”
“He told me there was one last thing, but he could not share that yet. Do you think they are the same?”
The colonel pursed his lips. “Yes. Perhaps in the future he can tell you that.” He checked his pocket watch. “Well, it is almost lunch time. Let us eat something.”
I nodded, feeling discomfited. I had so many questions, but resigned myself to the colonel’s dismissal.
I did not want to devalue Mr Darcy’s reasons for such sorrow, but I was not convinced that what he had told me was enough to cause him such distress. But, perhaps, this secret the Colonel had mentioned might.
What could it be?
Chapter 13
Darcy
I excused myself and walked away, closing my eyes, concentrating on the sound of the waves, on the salty smell coming with the wet wind, opening and closing my hand, fighting the pleasant feeling of her touch. I could not spend any more time so close to her. Now that I had told her my story, I should keep my distance.
It did not change the fact I still could feel it. Not just the softness of her skin or the warmth of her touch. No. It was the emotional connection growing between us that really scared me.
What are you doing to me, Elizabeth?
I stopped my steps and looked behind, where the three figures were seated, their voices swallowed by the roar of the sea. But I could see them; I could see her, looking in my direction.
This could not be happening.
What am I supposed to do? Should I go away? No. Just two weeks had passed. Leaving was not an option — not one I could take without offending Bingley. Besides, where else would I go? Back to Pemberley, to my life as it was? I could not. I was not prepared for that yet.
How on earth am I expected to spend two more weeks in Elizabeth’s company without surrendering to this impossible infatuation?
Time was against me. Too much time.
Thinking about time…
I turned to the road, and realised Bingley’s carriage was more than late, even if it took them longer to load it or it was coming at a slower pace. Almost an hour had passed since our arrival. Something must have happened.
Welcoming the distraction, I returned and shared my concerns with Richard.
He cleaned his mouth and looked back to the road. “You are right, Darcy. I will ask the footman to return and check. He can use one of the carriage horses.”
Richard and the footman freed the horse, and I was about to volunteer myself for the task when we heard a rider approaching. I could recognise him as one of Bingley’s footmen. His horse was loaded with bags.
“Colonel, Mr Darcy,” the young man called, dismounting his horse. “Mr Bingley sends his regrets. He’ll not be joinin’ you. Just after we load’d the carriage and start our journey, the main axle collapsed. The carriage will need to be sent to town and be repair’d. But don’t worry. It hurt nobody. They are all fine. He said it isn’t necessary for you to waste your day returning, so I brought the other things you’ll need for the day.” He spoke with the same haste as he unloaded the bags. Remounting his horse, he added, “I just advise leaving before dark. You know. It is… safer to ride while it’s still day.”
“We will do that. Thank you,” Richard said, and the footman urged his horse forward.
“Well, at least they are all safe,” Elizabeth said. “Thank God they were not on their way already. With the carriage travelling fast, they could have had a much worse accident.”
My attention returned to the young footman riding away. “He was in a hurry,” I muttered to Richard. He pursed his lips and nodded.
“I am sorry, Lizzy,” Miss Wiley said, startling us all again. Suddenly the quiet lady became quite talkative again. “I do not see it as a blessing, but a warning! Do you not see? I believe we should not be here. This place is cursed, and it is giving me shivers! Did you see the way the footman fled from here?”
Yes, fear was a cruel master whose claws grasped deep in one’s soul. But whatever the reason for the young man’s concern, I was not inclined to take part in it. I had too much on my mind already.
“Oh, Edith,” Elizabeth intervened, taking her friend’s hand, “there is no need to fear. We have two strong and capable gentlemen with us and, as you mentioned, we are spending the day, not the night here. Soon we will return to the house. For now, let us enjoy this beautiful day, shall we?”
Elizabeth’s reassuring voice brought Miss Wiley back to her sedate self. Blessedly, the young woman just nodded, abandoning the subject of curses and ghosts.
Elizabeth looked at me and smiled. But I could not return it. I clutched my fists and felt my back stiffening as a wave of contradictory feelings assaulted me. Elizabeth’s appeasing nature was causing me an inexplicable irritation.
How was I supposed to forget her if she continued to be so damned perfect?
***
As the day progressed, we partook of the food, talked about things of no consequence or kept quiet peacefully contemplating the sea.
But my mind was anything but peaceful. So I kept my distance, and succeeded in secluding myself for most of the day until Elizabeth stood up, smoothed her crimson velvet dress and matching coat and said, “I would like to see this most westerly point of continental England. Would anyone like to accompany me? By the sign up there, it should be a less-than-two-miles walk.”
Miss Wiley widened her eyes, shaking her head in fast and short movements. “No, Lizzy, I beg you. Do not go. Let us stay here and wait for our departure, which I hope will be soon.”
I turned and gave Richard a pointed look. Do not dare to leave me here with Miss Wiley. He held back a smirk and nodded.
Leaping to my feet, I walked towards Elizabeth. “I will go with you,” I said, knowing I would regret my decision. But if I needed to choose between two evils, I would choose Elizabeth. I could not stay behind with someone whose only conversation was ghosts and curses.
“Excellent,” Elizabeth replied, smiling. She turned to Richard. “Colonel?”
“Do not worry about me, Miss Bennet. After eating as I did, I believe I could just enjoy a well-deserved nap, if Miss Wiley does not mind, of course.”
Before the fearful lady could respond, I offered my arm to Elizabeth and almost dragged her away. I could sense more than see my action had amused her.
After walking in silence for some time, she said, “I believe my friend must be causing you some annoyance, Mr Darcy, and I apologise for her behaviour. She is a good person, but quite impressionable sometimes. I dare say she would improve—”
“I thank you for your concern, Miss Elizabeth, but you do not need to apologise on her behalf. I can perfectly understand,” I said, harsher than necessary.
“Can you really?” Elizabeth retorted, stopping and removing her hand from my arm.
For the first time since meeting her, her tone surprised me. I looked at her and instead of her bright eyes, I saw resentment.
That sight, however, instead of placating my unjustified rage, ignited a much
more destructive reaction. Deep inside me I knew it was not Miss Wiley’s fearful behaviour which was irritating me. I was annoyed with myself and my inability to control my growing infatuation for Elizabeth. It was consuming me. “I am afraid I do not understand, madam. Would you care to explain?”
She lowered her gaze and sighed. “You are right. Edith can be really annoying sometimes. I cannot blame you. That is why I apologised on her behalf. She cannot control it, but I know you have noticed that already.”
I moved away from her. I could not walk with her apologising, being nice, understanding… so close. I needed some distance. I needed to shout, run. I could not control my frustrations any longer, not without making a complete fool of myself, falling on my knees and begging her to stop being so… dammed perfect! Her concern, her way of protecting her friend; her consideration toward Richard before leaving Miss Wiley in his care; the way she had supported me every time I felt sad and alone, or in my lowest moment, like on the day before. Elizabeth was too conscious of people’s needs — my needs. She was the kindest person I had ever met.
It was ironic that despite all the people I knew from the elegant ton, it had been a country miss who finally broke my defences against the world and opened a breech in the walls surrounding my heart.
And I hated— loved — her for it.
No! It could not be!
I turned my back to her. I could not allow myself to love her. By all which was sacred, I could not! I needed to find a way out of that madness!
“Why are you doing this?” I asked angrily, turning to face her. If I could not stay away from her, I would give her a good reason to stay away from me. “Why are you always good to me when I am rude and unpleasant? Why can you not be angry, shout at me and say what you really think, Miss Bennet? Such a dejected and pathetic man,” I said, freeing my frustrations. I had called her ‘Miss Bennet’. Not Miss Elizabeth or Elizabeth as she had been for some time now. Thinking about her simply as Elizabeth had made me feel closer to her. No more. As my heart slowly conquered its territory against my reason, I could not help but wanting her closer, thinking about her, taking her in my arms and forgetting about the world. Pushing her away was the only way from not going mad. “Stop that! I do not want your attentions. Please, stay away from me!”