“There is one more part of the story that I am not constrained from relating to you as I am not under the privilege of any party. A lawyer colleague from another firm came to ask my advice about some detail of the rights of a husband over his wife’s inheritance. The details were obscure, but my friend could have looked them up easily enough. I am certain that his object in asking me was to alert me. I knew Mr. Wickham to be his client.”
Elizabeth could not see the full picture of what it all meant, although the colonel’s concerns made her sure that some misdeeds had taken place around the will. He had been careful not to say that Mr. Wickham had been behind the events, but he did use that name, and he mentioned no-one else by name.
Then he said, “I can not tell you the choices that Mr. Darcy has been compelled to make, or the factors that he is forced to weigh in his decision. However, I do think I know you well enough, Miss Bennet, to know that if you saw the whole facts of the case clearly, you would not prejudge him in as harsh a light as you do now.”
20
Colonel Fitzwilliam told Elizabeth, “I know that I have given you much to consider. Honestly, I don’t know whether what I have said can really help you with your situation or with the choices that you have to make. What I most wish that I could convey to you is maybe best put this way,”
His eyes were kind and gentle as he said, “When I recommended you to Mr. Darcy and, by extension, him to you, please, believe me, I would not have done so if I did not know both you and he to be good, honest people with pure hearts and intentions. I believe you have much that you could share. I am sorry for all that I have to leave in obscurity and I only hope I have been of some help.”
Courteously he left her to her reading and her thoughts, saying, “I hope I will at least have the pleasure of your company at dinner tonight.”
When the storm rolled nearer and the inevitable rush of the downpour began to rattle the windows, Elizabeth thought of Jane. She could not delay any longer discussion of their new situation, even though her own feelings were in utter turmoil.
As she rose to go upstairs, she saw outside, approaching through the heavy mist of rain, the figure of a man leading a horse. Both of their heads were bowed under the storm.
Even shrouded in mist she would have immediately recognized the fine black horse but Elizabeth’s attention was fixed on the man. With his coat carried over his shoulder, Mr. Darcy had only his white cotton shirt and his already skin-tight white riding pants against the downpour. His hair hung in long, unruly curls and his clothes were stuck to his body, heavy with the deluge. Cascades of water poured from him.
Mr. Darcy’s boots and the horse’s hooves splashed as they trudged to the house.
Elizabeth rushed to a closet across the hall for towels. She ran with them to the great front doors. Two liveried servants were there before her, opening the door and ready, holding out much larger towels and blankets, leaving Elizabeth to feel foolish.
When he saw her coming to greet him, Mr. Darcy’s eyes glowed like coals.
His gaze turned slowly on to Elizabeth, disconcerting her. He ran his hands through his hair and shook out a spray of water. The speed and strength of his hands made Elizabeth’s breath catch. Her hands waved with the towels but for a moment she could not speak.
He thanked the servants and told them, “Take those towels and blankets out to Admiral and lead him to the stables. His right forefoot is tender. He caught a sharp stone under the shoe and he may need to be re-shod.” His ga Elizabeth, quite tenderly, although his face still blazed under the running rivulets of water. He took one of the towels she had brought and rubbed his hair, fast and hard, spraying water around the hallway. Elizabeth wanted to step back but she was fixed to the spot, hypnotized by him.
“Thank you,” he handed her back the wet towel and took the other from her. His look was fierce and seemed to mock her without pity. Steam rose in wisps from his clothes that hung, heavy and almost transparent. Water poured off him. Elizabeth was transfixed, rooted and unable to move.
He shouted after the departing servants, “Tell the farrier I’ll be out to see about Admiral presently. And when you’ve stabled him, hurry back for a sip of rum. The rain is cold.”
It was all too much to take in. Elizabeth spent the afternoon in her room and tried to think through everything that had taken place. however she looked at her circumstance it became no more clear. She knew the truth was that she wanted to have just a little time to consider her answer to Mr. Darcy. It was infuriating of him not to allow it.
Doubts now grew and nagged at her, though. What the good colonel had told her suggested that Mr. Darcy may have good enough reason for the way that he acted. Reasons she could only guess at and none of her guessing brought her any comfort. But why would the man not explain himself?
She knew that she must tell Jane and so she went straightaway. Elizabeth hurried across the house to Georgiana’s room. As she crossed the hall she heard voices in the but she did not pause to find out whose they were.
Jane’s face flushed a little as Elizabeth put the circumstances. Elizabeth assumed it was from the prospect of having to turn around and make the same voyage all the way back, with all that would entail.
She had explained it all to her sister as clearly as she could, including the parts that Colonel Fitzwilliam had confided to her.
She said, “So now we will be trapped here and with nothing more to look forward to than another sea voyage, and every bit as harsh as the first.” She rose and paced around the room. Jane’s frown reminded her of the patient. She sat again and put her hands in her lap.
“But still, Jane,” she said, “All because of the self-importance of that man. Why would he not simply tell me his reasons? Why must he be so infuriating.”
Jane surprised Elizabeth when she said, “Perhaps you are a little too hard on him, sister. I believe that he has much to contend with and heavy burdens of responsibility.”
“He has the burdens of wealth and he’s responsible for an idiotic idea in fetching us both out here. He is responsible for behaving like a total brute keeping you practically locked up in here.” Elizabeth wondered what Jane meant about ‘burdens of responsibility’ and why she seemed to be taking Mr. Darcy’s part. Then, as Elizabeth talked about her being confined to Georgiana’s rooms, she saw a look pass over her sister’s face “Jane, is there something you know that I do not?”
She didn’t see how there could be, but when Jane’s eyes immediately dropped she knew that something was afoot. “Jane?”
“I can’t. I can’t, Lizzy. You won’t be upset with me. Please? I can not.” Elizabeth studied her sister’s eyes until Jane shook her head and said, “Lizzy, I am sworn to secrecy.”
“Sworn by whom? Jane, who…?” it could be only one person, so far as Elizabeth could see. But how could it be so? “Does this house have a contagious disease that swears everyone to secrecy, and am I the only one immune?”
She looked deep into her sister’s eyes. “Jane…” and then she saw it. “He has come to you, here?”
Jane blushed. “I am sworn to secrecy, Lizzy. Did I not say so?”
“He comes here to see you?”
“Lizzy, don’t make me say. Please?”
“I wonder if perhaps there is no need for you to say.”
21
Miss Bingley was at dinner again that evening with her brother, and they had brought her sister Louisa Hunt. A married lady, she was smaller, a paler, and plainer image of her sister. Elizabeth realized in an instant that she was the girl with Georgiana and the paper lanterns in the watercolor. It was she who Colonel Fitzwilliam had captured by the sundial.
Elizabeth was determined to get through the evening with good grace and her head high. Her manner with Mr. Darcy would be civil, no matter what. She asked him, “I trust you suffered no ill-effects from the rain, Mr. Darcy. You didn’t catch a cold or a chill from it, I hope.” The image of him steaming as he panted in the hallway, drenched and dr
ipping, rose in her mind. That made it hard for her to keep her composure.
Mr. Darcy came as near to a laugh as she had yet seen him. “No, not at all, Miss Bennet. Here the rain brings us fruitful land and fertile beauty. We do not shy away or allow our purpose to be thrown off simply because some water falls from the sky.”
“Here you have so much to be proud of.”
“Truly we do. The beauty of the region, the bounty of the crops, and the hardy resistance to rain that every living thing here enjoys. In Boston, I suppose that most of the time everybody is nearer to shelter and may be less disposed to tolerate the variations in climate.”
“I believe we are practical in knowing what is beneficial from what can bring us harm.”
She wasn’t sure that she was keeping up the lightness of tone that she had hoped for. She changed tack, “I hope your horse’s hoof has recovered, too.”
“Thank you, Miss Bennet. It was only a small stone, but I wanted it taken out before it caused him pain.”
“And you walked him back in the rain to save him hurting from it? How far away were you when he picked it up?”
“Only a few miles, but I let him rest a while in the shelter of a tree before we headed back.”
“It seems you show a good deal more kindness to your animals than sometimes you do to people.”
“Horses are loyal and very dependable, Miss Bennet. They won’t leave you in trouble and they never go back on their word.”
“Fine and admirable qualities, Mr. Darcy. It seems people are such a source of regular disappointment for you. What a shame it is that you can’t marry a horse instead.”
“People so often disappoint, it’s true. And once my good opinion of someone is lost, it is lost for ever.”
“Damnation, then. A rush to irreversible judgment would be one of the sizeable faults in your character, were you to admit that you had any.”
“Character? I have some, I hope.”
“Faults, Mr. Darcy. Faults like pride, vanity, an excess of judgment.”
“Oh, I am hardly without faults, Miss Bennet, but is pride in one’s discipline in keeping to a purpose, or in a focussed intellect really a fault? Or a confidence in my own judgment that does not get blown this way and that and undermined by every little shower or breeze that passes?”
“You are, as you say, resistant to weather. Such certainty in your own views must be a strong indication of perfection.” She cast what she hoped was a bright and easy smile around the table, “So we are to understand that you have faults but only in theory. None that can be seen in the light of day. You must indeed be the perfect specimen. No wonder you find people so often disappointing.”
He said, “You are determined most willfully to misunderstand, Miss Bennet.”
The sparkle in Miss Bingley’s eye showed her to be impressed and at least a little pleased to see Elizabeth hold her own with Darcy, even though Elizabeth could see that she was impatient for the focus of the conversation to be returned to her.
Darcy’s eyes stayed on Elizabeth a little longer than it was comfortable for her, then and through the rest of dinner.
Miss Caroline favored Elizabeth with a smile. “Am I to understand that we will be deprived of your company and that of your sister too, and almost as soon as you have arrived?” Caroline made a frown that seemed a little theatrical to Elizabeth, “It is really too unsettling. Does nobody stay in one place any more?”
Mr. Bingley chimed in, “At least we shall have the pleasure of showing some hospitality and entertainment to you and your sister. If I understand correctly, Miss Bennet, you will still be here for the dance.”
“Brother, are we really to have that dance?”
Miss Caroline looked to Mr. Darcy for confirmation.
He barely looked up as he said, “I know nothing about it.”
“The arrangements are in hand,” Mr. Bingley announced brightly, “I spoke with cook this afternoon and I have given instructions to the housekeeper and the head of staff. Musicians are engaged and invitation cards are in preparation. It will be a grand affair.”
From the far end of the table, Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “It is a wonderful idea. It will be splendid for the Bennet sisters to at least have some good memory to take back with them.” His kindly eyes rested on Elizabeth. “If you really must leave us.”
“Alas,” Elizabeth said, “That decision is not mine.”
“Oh,” the colonel said, “but I was given to understand that it was.”
So, Mr, Darcy was representing her as going back on her part of the bargain, when it was he who refused to take his future wife into his confidence. He had left her with no choice and he knew it. Looking back at him now, his gaze was hard on her. Plainly, he was not going to be seen to give way. If he was so unbending over a matter that could be resolved so very simply, she felt sure that she was making a lucky escape from marrying the brute.
Caroline chipped in, brightly, “The dance will give us the opportunity to welcome you both and to bid you a fond farewell all at the same time. Parting is said to be such a sweet sorrow.”
Mr. Darcy looked down the table at Mr. Bingley. “I didn’t know that you were even here at Pemberley today. I should like to have seen you.”
“After I saw to getting the arrangements for the dance in order, I met up with Colonel Fitwilliam which was a great piece of luck, wasn’t it?”
The colonel nodded, but then his face froze as Mr. Bingley said, “He showed me a fantastic…” but there he hesitated and looked around the table, “A great spot. In the garden. Which I will tell you about. Later.”
Mr. Darcy frowned and looked between Mr. Bingley and the colonel. “He showed you a spot in the garden?” Mr. Bingley’s cheeks began to glow but he nodded. Mr. Darcy went on, “In the rain?”
“Oh,” Mr. Bingley said in haste, “It wasn’t raining at that moment,” and then he smiled.
The colonel maintained a poker face as Mr. Darcy’s eyes went between the two men.
On the way out of the dining room, Darcy caught Bingley’s arm and held him back so they would not be overheard. “That business about the spot in the garden, Bingley.”
“Yes, I didn’t really mean a spot in the garden.”
“I know what you meant. Fitzwilliam showed you the letter from the Bennet sisters’ mother, didn’t he.”
“Yes, it’s really very charming. But I realized that I shouldn’t say it.”
“No. Particularly not in front of your sister.”
“But, if Miss Elizabeth is returning to Boston, surely–”
“That isn’t the point. If Caroline learned the reason the Bennet sisters traveled here, she could cause some serious trouble.”
“I know. And I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“So, I should take the letter back., Do you still have it?”
“Yes. I-” Bingley reached for his inside pocket. Then the pocket on the other side. then the two pockets in his vest. Finally, he searched all of the pockets in his pants. “I must have left it in the billiard room.”
“The billiard room on the way to the terrace, where your sister goes regularly to smoke?”
“Oh, gosh. I’ll go and get it now.”
“I’ll go.”
Bingley called after him, “I must have left it on the drinks table by the billiard cues and the scoreboard.” Darcy threw him a look.
When Darcy got to the billiard room, the dark, sweet aroma of Caroline’s tobacco hung in the air. He retrieved the envelope from the center of the blue baize of the billiard table.
22
When he rejoined the party in the withdrawing room, Elizabeth told Mr. Darcy, “I am concerned for Jane. Although she is with Georgiana, your sister is no company, Mr. Darcy. I hate to think of Jane having nobody to talk to the whole of the time. I think maybe that I should join her in future and take some of my meals with her, if you have no objection.”
Miss Bingley leaned close, “Nobody will object in the least, my
dear,” and she smiled, “You must, of course, do whatever will bring you comfort.”
Somebody suggested playing cards, an idea which Louisa was very enthusiastic about. Mr. Bingley and the colonel were sporting enough to indulge her, and Miss Caroline tried to encourage Elizabeth to join in, but she was not inclined to play.
Caroline plainly hoped that she and Darcy would be the couple left out. When Elizabeth resisted, though, she was sure that she caught Caroline’s eyes narrow in the first trace of a sulk. Caroline’s superior poise soon recovered though and she joined the card table with much gay talk as though it were the best idea in the world.
As Elizabeth was too agitated to remain still, she and Mr. Darcy walked around the room together. She asked him about the many landscape paintings as they passed. In response, he told her the viewpoint and location of their subject matter and the names of each of the artists. Soon she said, “Should we not talk a little? Have perhaps some light conversation?”
“Is it required, Miss Bennet? I am perfectly content simply to be in your company.” She was sure that he was entertaining himself by mocking her.
“Now, you see, that could prompt me to make a remark of some consequence, and then where would we be?” Before he could respond she told him, “That is precisely the value of light conversation. It agreeably fills the space where matters of consequence might otherwise flow.”
“Since what you require must be talk of no importance, would you not rather imagine what it is that you would want me to say and then simply consider it said?”
Elizabeth was still resolved that she would keep her mood or at least her conversation and her outward demeanor light and civil. She resigned herself to the safer subject of the paintings. “These landscapes are all very finely executed and they give a delightful impression of your beautiful scenery nearby.”
After he studied her at length, a trace of his smirk pulled at the corners of his lips and he answered, “Yes.”
Urgently, Darcy Page 9