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The Very Essence of Love

Page 7

by Andreea Catana


  “What could I tell him? What could I tell Lady Catherine? That I am running away because of a woman?”

  Instead, Darcy remained in the drawing-room, listening to his cousin recount the events of the past week in London, where there was talk of a scandal at Court. The wife of an Earl was suspected of conducting a most immoral affair with one of her husband’s friends, who had interests in trade.

  “I find it offensive that individuals like Lord Callingwood’s friend believe they are of equal rank as an Earl. This is what new money does to people, it makes them think they are equal to us. I really think, Fitzwilliam, that you should use this situation as an example and take less of an interest in such people.” Colonel Fitzwilliam was puzzled at such a direct order and turned to Darcy for clarification.

  Darcy, unwilling, replied, “Lady Catherine does not approve of my friendship with Mr. Bingley.”

  “Quite so. Everyone should know their station in life. It has always been my belief that any change in the natural order of things will end in disaster. We can tolerate those people in trade, as we tolerate others who are less fortunate than us. Take the example of Mr. Collins. He has found a wife of his measure; Mrs. Collins is not brighter than him and has enough dowry to raise his status. I feel that if he had instead chosen that Bennet cousin of his as his wife, she would have made him miserable.”

  “Which Bennet cousin?” the Colonel asked, not understanding a great deal.

  It was Darcy’s turn to face him, “I believe that you know the young lady her ladyship is speaking of. Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” The Colonel’s countenance changed into a content, yet surprised smile.

  “You do not say! Miss Elizabeth Bennet? The one I met in London a few weeks ago?”

  “Yes, the very same one!” Darcy replied, knowing full well his cousin was deliberately feigning his ignorance.

  “It appears that this young lady knows all the gentlemen in London and elsewhere. I do not like this one bit. I cannot fancy her at all.”

  Darcy felt a strange sensation stirring in him like a sharp pain. The present conversation was making him remember how a few hours ago he had wished to ask for her hand in marriage, only for their discussion to be turned into a verbal duel about hidden interests and harsh words about her family.

  “What faults does your ladyship find in her?” Darcy asked before he could censure his thoughts on the matter.

  “I find her to be impertinent. Miss Elizabeth gives her opinion too freely for a young lady of her age and means.”

  “I have found her charming for almost the same reasons,” The Colonel said, entertained by this discussion, while Darcy felt another stab of pain in his body, as his cousin praised her.

  Lady Catherine continued, egged on by this sudden supporter of Miss Elizabeth, “She does not care to bow to her superiors. I believe she thinks herself better than her peers. See how she treated Mr. Collins, who made her quite an excellent proposal of marriage. Who is going to propose to her now considering that she will be virtually penniless once her father dies?” The Colonel laughed, causing further annoyance to her ladyship. “I expect you shall see reason once you see her tonight. She is invited to dine here at Rosings with Mr. and Mrs. Collins.”

  The Colonel gave no reply and exchanged an amused glance with Darcy, to which he replied only with a feeble grin. With this victory over her nephews, Lady Catherine retired to her chamber, allowing them to carry on their conversation.

  “Do you feel the same, cousin, about Miss Elizabeth?” the Colonel asked in jest. “I understand that you have known her far longer than I have.” Darcy kept silent, taking care not to reveal anything of his torment. The Colonel continued, teasing, “You told me once you were impressed by her ‘fine pair of eyes.’ Are the same pair of eyes responsible for your visit to Rosings? I find it hard to believe it is a mere coincidence that you are here at the same time.”

  “I am afraid that Miss Elizabeth cannot be easily described. Everyone is right about her and everyone is wrong.”

  “You speak in riddles now, Darcy,” the Colonel spoke in earnest, sensing there was something more in what his cousin did not choose to reveal.

  “I…. I…” Darcy stopped before he said anything else. “Please, forgive me, but I do not know…. My thoughts are not…” He suddenly changed his mind. “Tell me more about Georgiana. How is she?”

  “Your sister is well; I saw her before I left for Kent and she was in good health. She has most excellent company…”

  “Miss Jane Bennet?” Darcy interrupted, with a displeased voice.

  “Yes. Miss Jane Bennet, precisely her. What do you think of her? Is this another young lady you do not know what to think about?”

  “This is serious,” Darcy protested and the Colonel regained his sincere countenance as he gave a simple, objective opinion of Miss Jane Bennet that had been drawn after seeing her on a couple of occasions. He had found her reserved, at least with him, as though there had been something on her mind for a long time, but she was well-mannered, and Georgiana took to her instantly. But the Colonel’s answer did not appear to please Darcy and he mused again,“Has Miss Jane ever asked about Mr. Bingley while she was at the house?”

  “Your friend?” the Colonel paused, but upon seeing Darcy’s seriousness, he said, “Not that I know of, but I have noticed she is in Georgiana’s confidence, perhaps she asked her. What is the matter? Do you not see Miss Bennet as good enough for your sister? What is it that you have against her?”

  “Nothing in particular. Or maybe nothing yet. I have met Miss Bennet and I think just as you do. That she is reserved and well-mannered. I just have a feeling that there is more to this whole matter and if this friendship is not taken care of it could very well lead to disaster.”

  “C’mon, Darcy! I think the whole affair with Wickham has ruined your capacity to trust others. Not all the people you meet are like that charlatan. He was indeed a most manipulative individual but Georgiana is out of his reach. I promise you. There are now much more trustworthy people around her to avoid any possibility that Wickham can get in touch with her again. There is not a single chance he could harm her again.”

  When the Collinses and their guests arrived for dinner, Darcy was looking out of the window. He had spent the last half an hour hoping to witness the moment of their arrival. He was also afraid that one guest would be missing from the party.

  “There is a possibility she might not come.” Darcy thought, hoping to ease his mind, “I would not blame her, I behaved appallingly towards her, accusing her sister Jane, the sister she loves the most, of deception for her own benefit.”

  The carriage arrived on time and Darcy allowed his gaze to remain fixed on the passengers of the carriage who descended one by one. When Elizabeth stepped out, aided by Sir William, Mr. Darcy observed Mr. Collins to be the most nervous one, instructing his party on details of some sort, but he had neither the curiosity nor the time to remain to see what else was happening.

  “Thank God you appeared, Darcy!” The Colonel greeted him,” I thought I would have to stand here by myself making conversation with people I barely know.” Darcy took his position next to his cousin and strove to appear much calmer than he was in reality. Mr. Collins entered, followed by his wife and Miss Elizabeth. At last, Sir William and his daughter appeared.

  Darcy bowed to the ladies, looking for a sign in Elizabeth to tell him of her spirits. Her face bore no traces of sadness or uneasiness as he had expected. Quite the contrary. She was poised, as though no unpleasant discussion had taken place that morning, for he had left her in quite a distraught state.

  “Is it possible that she has forgotten all about it?” Darcy felt confused.

  After all the introductions had been made, the Colonel made a loud remark about how glad he was to see Miss Elizabeth again under more pleasant circumstances. He enquired about her health following her accident in the capital, and a prolonged conversation on the subject made Darcy feel jealous of his cousin’s acquainta
nce with Elizabeth. He was almost grateful when his aunt made her appearance in the drawing-room, bringing things to order. Darcy looked at Elizabeth more than once, but she never returned his gaze, preferring instead to enter into a conversation with Mrs. Collins and Maria Lucas.

  At the dinner table, Elizabeth was paired with the Colonel, facing Darcy, which delighted the first and upset the latter. Darcy, who had been placed next to his cousin, Anne de Bourgh, glanced at Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam from time to time, only to find his cousin utterly amused by their conversation, sustained by smiles and laughter on both sides. Darcy realised that even though he had been correct to speak to Miss Elizabeth freely in the morning on a delicate theme, he had done her a great injustice. He had wounded something in her that was now driving her to exclude him from her company. The thought pained him and he prayed that he would have a chance to redeem himself later on.

  “Colonel Fitzwilliam, tell me at once what is the source of your amusement,” Lady Catherine commanded when she had been irritated enough by the familiarity of her nephew with one of Mr. Collins’s guests, for she could not allow Miss Elizabeth to be more than that to her.

  The Colonel cleared his throat and replied, “Miss Elizabeth was telling me a fable she had once heard of a grasshopper invited to a royal dinner.”

  Lady Catherine was not amused,

  “Miss Elizabeth, do you like such silly amusements?”

  “Yes, your ladyship,” Elizabeth answered gleefully, “I am very fond of fables. I believe they are always a pleasant way to amuse oneself.”

  “Quite so, if you are a child and you do not understand that they are meant to ridicule the very people who are in charge of this great country,” she exclaimed.

  “I believe fables are designed to ridicule what ought to be ridiculed in a society for the betterment of it. How can we improve ourselves if we do not see what we ought to change?” Elizabeth answered.

  “By my honour, I believe you speak like a revolutionary! Have your parents taught you to think like this?” Lady Catherine was irritated and sought her nephews’ support in her indignation. However, both Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were eagerly anticipating Elizabeth’s response.

  ‘No, ma’am,” Elizabeth almost gave a smile imagining her mother being called a revolutionary. “My father likes to read, but my parents are similar to any other parents, preoccupied, I am afraid, with rather mundane things. Your ladyship must imagine that in a family with five daughters, there is little concern for a revolution to happen.”

  “Yes, I imagine that it must be difficult for your mother to have all her daughters at home.”

  Darcy looked at Elizabeth and for the first time that evening, their eyes locked. Because of the lighting in the room, Darcy was not sure if he had imagined her blush, or if it was just the heat of indignation at having to see his countenance.

  “At times, yes,” Elizabeth replied, finally relinquishing Darcy’s gaze. “But most of the time, she thinks of manoeuvres to have her daughters wedded, so she is entertained enough. I believe all mothers are prone to such worrying and do their best to secure the happiness of a daughter.” Darcy knew she had said it more for him than for Lady Catherine. Elizabeth’s remark caused equal amusement and concern from different sides, especially from the highest-ranked in the room, who expressed some disapproval by scoffing.

  After dinner, the party returned to the drawing-room and Mrs. Jenkinson delighted the guests with her performance at the pianoforte. Mrs. Collins barely managed to hide a yawn, brought about by the plentiful dinner and warm room, while Elizabeth sat on the sofa with a dignified smile on her lips. Darcy observed her at every opportunity, keen on noticing if she ever returned the favour. She did not.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” the Colonel approached her once the performance was over, with Darcy’s gaze on both of them, “I hope you were not offended by her ladyship’s words.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I believe I have to let you in on a secret about myself, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I am not easily intimidated. I am afraid I am too obstinate for that.”

  “I see it! I am curious, however, what you do when someone offends you.”

  “I laugh at them, and occasionally at myself,” she replied honestly, looking for the first time at Mr. Darcy. “I believe mocking one’s vices and follies may be the best medicine against believing you are superior to another being and for judging them accordingly.”

  Chapter 10

  “The Colonel has come to see you again, Lizzy,” Charlotte said after entering Elizabeth’s chamber that morning. “This is the third time in the last few days,” she whispered, seeing Elizabeth’s less than enthusiastic smile. “Of course, last time he came with Mr. Darcy, but since Mr. Darcy didn’t speak a word, I shall not count his visit as such. Are you not content?”

  Elizabeth retorted politely that she was. Charlotte, who had known her friend for a long time, quickly realised it was not the case but could not understand the reason for her disappointment. The Colonel was amiable and well-mannered, he could tell funny stories and, most importantly, he showed a preference for her friend.

  “Tell me at once, Lizzy, if you do not like him and I shall return to the parlour to inform him that you are indisposed.”

  “No, no…” Elizabeth said hastily. “I think the world of Colonel Fitzwilliam and I am grateful for all his visits. He’s been more than kind and generous to call upon me.”

  “I do believe that it is not a coincidence that he has come to see you almost every day. Perhaps, you will leave Hunsford engaged.”

  The suggestion made by Charlotte darkened Elizabeth’s mind instantly, for she had never sought to encourage Colonel Fitzwilliam in that manner. Nor did she wish for such an outcome, regardless of how interesting she had found the Colonel. Her feelings were resolute, she knew her heart and in spite of herself, it was inclined towards someone else. Mr. Darcy.

  It pained her to admit it, but she had no other choice. The agony of her thoughts had been terrible, for she had so many reasons to despise the man. She was hurt by his obstinacy in believing Jane a schemer – the opposition against her sister was a blow she could not forgive, for she was the most selfless and generous young lady anyone could ever meet. She was mortified equally by his words about her family. Her mother and even her father were subject to his scrutiny. “God knows what he thinks of Lydia, Kitty or Mary. He could have been right about some things, he was, however, not right about all of them. No one is entirely faultless in life. We are all ridiculous and virtuous on occasion.”

  “What do you say, Lizzy?” Charlotte spoke, bringing her back to reality. “Are you not happy you have come here?”

  “I never should have come here,” Elizabeth thought, but for the sake of delicacy she did not tell her friend.

  The Colonel’s visit did not last long, other than pleasantries, and an invitation to Rosings Park, it did not contain much. Certainly, the Colonel was pleasant enough, and she admired him greatly, but his effect on her was bound to end within the circle of friendship.

  When he left, Elizabeth returned to her chamber and soon after determined to forget all her thoughts and engage in something much more rewarding. For example, to reply to the letter she had received from her father. Her father had no news to give to her, other than Lydia’s constant pleading that she be allowed to accompany Mrs. Forster to Brighton. He was not partial to that idea, much in opposition to Mrs. Bennet, who took Lydia’s side. Elizabeth sensed his resolve would be lost and he would agree in the end with both of them just to be left alone and this upset her. She knew her parents to be just like her, of flesh and blood, therefore subject to imperfections, yet she wished her father was of a more firm nature and would put an end to it all.

  “Mama has already done so much to harm Jane’s cause. Because of her silliness, Mr. Darcy thinks the worst of her. And possibly even myself. He is indeed a proud man and I do not expect that it shall pass.”

  Elizabeth sat to write her reply, and once i
t was finished, she was content. She urged her father to postpone any decision until her arrival in Hertfordshire, at least until she had a chance to talk to her mother as well. She could not count on Lydia for common sense, but her mother could be reached if one knew how to approach the subject.

  Elizabeth excused herself to Mr. Collins and Charlotte and went to post the letter and once she had done so, she decided she would walk. The day was bright, the sky was clear, and she was in no danger of being caught in the rain again. She avoided the path that led to Rosings Park and chose instead the route that Charlotte had shown her yesterday that led to a small pond. It had once been the location of the former village church, but was now a wild and deserted place, reminding her of her own favourite place at Longbourn.

  She found the old church strangely fascinating, with its silent walls and the wild plants growing on the inside. Two ducks quarrelled in the distance, filling the scenery with life. Elizabeth removed her bonnet and sat down. It was truly a peaceful place and for the first time in quite a while she too felt peaceful. She paused to marvel at how little it took to make her happy, to allow her mind to forget for a couple of minutes all that had been weighing her down. Suddenly, she felt homesick, wishing to travel back to Hertfordshire.

  She was in the middle of the road when she saw Mr. Darcy. He was standing motionless, as if waiting for something to happen, or maybe Elizabeth imagined it to be so. As he caught sight of her, the expression on his countenance changed. She wondered what she should do, continue on her way which would take her towards him, or return in the direction she had come from.

  It was Mr. Darcy who moved first. The distance between them grew smaller and only then did Elizabeth notice that his face showed signs of having been deprived of sleep. He was still as imposing as he had been when she first saw him, noble and proud, but there was something else about him she could not decipher. Elizabeth felt her heart pounding inside her chest and was afraid he would hear just how loud it was. Mr. Darcy stopped before her and before she could say anything, he said, “Miss Elizabeth, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you…”

 

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