They arrived in due time in an elegant carriage that Mr. Gardiner had arranged for the occasion, and when they heard their name announced in a loud voice, entered the room.
Mr. Gardiner took Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth to pay their respects to the lady and master of the house; they curtsied and were introduced to a young woman, who was revealed to be Lady Pollock and impressed them with her amiability and gentleness. They then moved into the ballroom to mingle, but due to the large number of people present, Mrs. Gardiner soon pleaded with her husband to find her a seat.
It was from this position that Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy in the crowd. He was accompanied by Mr. Bingley, Miss Bingley and the Hursts. Mr. Darcy appeared to be unaware of her presence and Elizabeth could not help wondering what his reaction would be on seeing her here. She found her cheeks reddening, which caught the attention of her aunt who believed her to be overwhelmed by the attendees at the party.
Elizabeth prayed she would remain unseen for the rest of the night and for a while, she was successful. When the music started and the people gathered to watch the dancing, Mrs. Gardiner asked to retire to the other room where it was much cooler.
As they did so, Elizabeth came face-to-face with Mr. Darcy, who was coming from the other room. His surprise at seeing Elizabeth was apparent. He immediately bowed to her and, before he could say anything, noticed Mrs. Gardiner’s presence. Mrs. Gardiner looked curiously at her flustered niece, obliging Elizabeth to make the necessary introductions.
Once the formalities were concluded, Mr. Darcy directed his gaze towards Elizabeth and said at once,
“Miss Elizabeth, would you do me the honour of dancing the next set with me?” Elizabeth exchanged a glance with her aunt, who gave her a shy smile, before giving her answer.
“So, that was the famous Mr. Darcy, Lizzy!” Her aunt remarked when he had left their presence to rejoin his party. “Did you know he was here?” Elizabeth’s silence was an answer in itself. “Why did you not tell me?”
“Because I wished he would not see me, aunt,” she replied most earnestly whilst looking in the direction of Mr. Darcy’s party, where her presence had clearly become known to his companions as well.
“He is accompanied by Mr. Bingley and his sister, and their company I desire even less.”
The music overpowered their voices and Elizabeth was silenced as she watched the dancers of the first set moving into the room. Her thoughts were on what she would say – if anything - to Mr. Darcy during the dance. During their set at Netherfield Park she provoked, more likely she teased, Mr. Darcy to speak because she knew it would inconvenience him greatly to talk to her. Now all she wanted was for him not to say a word, as she promised she herself would do.
She knew it was nonsensical but Elizabeth feared Mr. Darcy would somehow say something that would weaken her resolve to return to Longbourn. Elizabeth looked towards the end of the room and saw Miss Bingley observing her from a distance. Mr. Bingley was doing the same, but he appeared much more humble than his sister and had a guilty look on his face. Elizabeth turned to her aunt for conversation to avoid their scrutiny.
When Mr. Darcy approached her to claim her hand for the dance, she was calm and composed. But as they stood face-to-face waiting for the melody to fill the room, Elizabeth’s heart began beating so fast that she was afraid she would miss the first steps. This aroused further irritation at herself for allowing Mr. Darcy to have this strange effect on her. “I cannot allow it! I shall not!”
Elizabeth was determined to get through the dance in silence. She forced her mind not to think about his touches, which reminded her of others she had felt and had confused her. She was in the midst of succeeding in all of it, when she heard Mr. Darcy ask, “Why do you not come to the house anymore?”
Elizabeth started with the directness of his question and almost stopped dancing in surprise. He seemed preoccupied with something and she was not sure what he expected her to answer. “Does he want to tell me he has missed my visits? No, Lizzy, do not be silly!”
Elizabeth looked ahead in an attempt to compose herself and once she was sure of what she wanted to say, she uttered, “I have been busy preparing for my return to Longbourn.”
It was Mr. Darcy’s turn to be affected by something she said, or at least, that is what Elizabeth imagined.
“You are leaving London?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing to keep me here I am afraid.”
Her face was near Mr. Darcy’s face when she uttered the last sentence and she was immediately struck by the effect of her words. His expression changed entirely, from the preoccupation of before to muffled displeasure. Elizabeth realised he was dismayed by her answer, and she wondered to herself whether it had sounded harsh or impolite. Mr. Darcy turned to her and asked her before the music ended, “Nothing at all?”
“I am expected at home,” she answered briefly, and the last bit of hope disappeared from his face.
“Allow me then to wish you a safe trip home, Miss Elizabeth.” As soon as he spoke these words, Mr. Darcy bowed to her and disappeared into a different room, not to be seen again for the rest of the night.
Chapter 15
Elizabeth’s return journey to Longbourn was short and uneventful. Her father was the first to welcome her home, followed by Mary, as dutiful as ever. Inside, Elizabeth found all as it was before she left for Rosings Park and felt grateful, for it was a comfort to return to familiarity.
“Maybe in returning home, I can be my old self again and forget about all that has happened,” she fooled herself into thinking.
As she was climbing the stairs to her chamber, Lydia and Kitty stormed out of theirs, arguing over a new bonnet Mrs. Bennet had ordered for Lydia’s upcoming trip to Brighton, barely noticing Elizabeth’s arrival.
“They have been like this ever since I gave my permission for Lydia to leave for Brighton. They quarrel about all and nothing. I confess I shall be very happy to have my peace once more.”
Elizabeth sighed at her father’s resignation. “Papa, I’d hoped that I’d arrived in time to change your mind about that. I do not find it reasonable or advisable that you should allow her to go on any account.”
“I am afraid it is too late, my dear Lizzy! I gave my word.” Mr. Bennet opposed his daughter’s plea with kindness.
“But you can change it.”
“No, only a miracle would change Mrs. Bennet’s determination to have her daughter in Brighton. And there are some things I would rather concede to her. Lizzy, I would like to spend this day doing nothing else but rejoicing in your return. I deserve it for all the weeks you have left me at the mercy of your mother’s nerves.”
Elizabeth smiled. Still, she gave the subject no pause until she was granted a promise from her father that they would speak further on the matter. Mr. Bennet put his arms tenderly around Elizabeth’s shoulders, allowing her to rest there until they were interrupted by Mrs. Bennet, who on coming down from her chamber required to be informed of all that Elizabeth had seen at Mr. Collins’ house, hoping for a most unfavourable report on the household. At length, Elizabeth had little to say, but she indulged her mother nevertheless.
The following morning, after breakfast, Elizabeth took to her old habit of walking, indulging in what the pale sun had to offer that day. She felt the cold of the morning invigorating and, most of all, rewarding, for it kept all her thoughts away.
She managed to escape the temptation of looking back at all that had happened at Rosings Park and in London and spent the day in tranquillity until later on, when the whole family was in the carriage on the way to visit Mrs. Phillips, and Mrs. Bennet remembered another of her woes.
“I wish Jane were here with us. I must say I do not like it at all that she is taking care of Mr. Darcy’s sister. She is much too kind to them, my Jane. And to think how they behaved towards her. To make her believe that she would soon be married, only to be deserted in a most cruel fashion. And now she is taking care of one of them as if she w
ere family. She should not give them the slightest attention.”
“I believe you are wrong, Mama!” Elizabeth interrupted Mrs. Bennet’s speech, much to the surprise of the latter, “Yes, Mr. Bingley showed a preference for Jane, but it was in no way indicative of his future intention to propose. We are as much at fault in breaking Jane’s heart as they are.”
“Nonsense, Lizzy! WE? What have WE done to Jane?”
“We have encouraged her to see love where there was none. In London, Mr. Bingley had the chance to visit Jane, but he did not. And we must conclude that he had no intention of pursuing her, not that he was prevented from doing what he desired. We have allowed ourselves to pass judgment on something that none of us was sure to be of a solid nature and pushed her towards suffering.”
“Nonsense!”
“I do feel you are in the wrong, Mama. Your intentions may be good, but the consequences have been terrible. You were as mistaken about Mr. Bingley as you are now about sending Lydia to Brighton.”
Kitty laughed with satisfaction at hearing her older sister trying to prevent Lydia’s plans, something that only infuriated their youngest sister further.
“Papa has already given me permission to go. I know he shall not go back on his word no matter how much you try to convince him, Lizzy. I shall do as I please. Tell her Mama.”
“Everyone desist right now,” Mr. Bennet spoke with determination, annoyed by the clamour suddenly stirred in the carriage. “I shall not tolerate it further. Lizzy, I have made my opinion clear about this matter and I shall not diverge from it. And you, Lydia, and you, Kitty, if you do not stop right now we shall all return home and I shall go back to my reading while you are crying in your chambers.”
For the rest of the ride, nothing else was said until they reached Mrs. Phillips’ house. Piano music was heard from inside and it was enough for Lydia and Kitty to jump from the carriage in spite of Mr. Bennet’s protests. Elizabeth followed her mother and Mary with little interest.
“Oh, Lizzy,” Mrs. Phillips exclaimed once she set her eyes on her, “Hunsford did not agree with you much, I see. I do not expect that awful Mr. Collins to have treated you kindly. After all, he has no interest in treating you fairly since he has found a wife.”
Elizabeth, who knew her aunt to be a woman fond of gossip and ill-meant comments for the sake of idle entertainment, felt no indignation at her words. Instead, she replied with some amusement, “Quite the contrary, Aunt Phillips, Mr. Collins treated me fairly because he has found a wife.”
“Well, Lizzy, do not be upset, there will be other chances. You will soon see that, providing you do not try to scare them away with your tongue and opinions. At the very least, a young lady should not have an opinion until she is married, then it becomes absolutely mandatory to have some, very determined ones, to be the mistress of the house. I heard that it is possible that a certain officer might pay his respects to me this afternoon; there have been indications that he might be partial to you,” she spoke with a wink as if the news could bring Elizabeth the greatest joy.
Elizabeth was released from her aunt’s presence when the maid announced that Lady Lucas had arrived and that Mrs. Bennet refused to be seated next to her at the table. Elizabeth felt relieved, she had no wish to be in a crowd, so she sought a place near the window overlooking the back garden, hoping she would be seated there until it was decided to return to Longbourn. She certainly hoped she would be spared any encounter that would require her extensive engagement. Half an hour later, Elizabeth saw Mr. Wickham enter the room. He made no effort to disguise that she was the person he was looking for.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he spoke after he took a short bow, “Mrs. Phillips informed me of your return. I must confess that it gives me great pleasure to see you again. May I?” Without waiting for an answer from Elizabeth, he sat next to her on the little sofa. “I hope you had a safe journey,” he went on seeking encouragement from Elizabeth to carry on the conversation. Except for some direct answers, she did not oblige him, but it made no difference to him. He spoke of his extensive regime with the troops, working diligently to put himself in the most favourable of lights.
Elizabeth listened carefully, drawing her own conclusions, and to her amazement, they were so different from the ones she had once held. For one, Mr. Wickham smiled after each remark to enhance the effect of his words. Elizabeth saw it now clearly. He was a man who was perfectly aware of his effect on the ladies. Few were the female counterparts who had not remarked upon his charm and his good looks. She was also surprised to realise how calculated his movements were, as though designed to be part of a larger performance in front of an audience. He spoke with confidence, expecting the same from her, and was slightly annoyed when he got little in return. The change was almost unnoticeable, but when all other subjects were exhausted, Mr. Wickham returned to the only one that had elicited a response from her.
“Your father told me that you had to return to London for a few days due to an emergency concerning your sister,” he spoke with an overt insinuation that he was aware of what happened in London.
“Yes,” Elizabeth admitted, puzzled that her father would reveal such details to a stranger, even if such a gentleman was to his liking. Instinctively, she turned her gaze towards the room in which her father was engaged in a game of cards, unaware of her scrutiny. Mrs. Bennet, on the other hand, responded to her gaze with satisfaction, once she saw Mr. Wickham was her daughter’s companion.
Mr. Wickham boldly went on, “Your sister Jane is an angel for looking out for a person outside her family so diligently. Especially considering that it concerns Mr. Darcy’s family. I presume she does not know his true nature.”
The impertinence of his deliberate insinuation against Mr. Darcy shocked Elizabeth and it was soon followed by the realisation that Mr. Wickham expected her to further spread the intelligence he had previously disclosed to her in order to settle Mr. Darcy’s character with all the people she met. She was equally horrified by both villainies and as soon as she could speak, she said in a calm voice, “Mr. Wickham, it would be highly inappropriate of my sister to rely on gossip she hears from other people, even if such people include myself. Initial impressions can often be mistaken, as a result of some prejudice against a person.”
Mr. Wickham’s countenance changed under the influence of Elizabeth’s words. He hesitated for a moment while his fist tightened on his sword. It was becoming clear that he had expected her to support his views. His irritation was visible. Even his best efforts could not make him regain his previous assuredness. Elizabeth suddenly found him devoid of charm, like an ill-disposed child who is suddenly deprived of a toy he fancied.
Mr. Wickham gave Elizabeth a pitiful look, speaking through his teeth, “Right. Madam, please excuse me for having taken a moment of your time.” Elizabeth was relieved to see him gone from her sight, as he turned instantly and left her presence. She suddenly felt free from a danger she had only just realised existed. She smiled, content to be released from any interest in Mr. Wickham whatsoever.
Chapter 16
Clean-shaven and prepared for the new day, Darcy descended the stairs, in a hurry to join his sister at breakfast. He knew he was late, even though a servant had arrived on time to wake him. As he studied his face in the mirror, he realised that his lack of sleep was obvious, as small lines, caused by fatigue, were discernible under his eyes. He was indeed a proud man, but not vain. It was not the appearance of such lines that bothered him, but the reason that stubbornly accompanied them.
Elizabeth Bennet.
He realised how much her absence affected him. The realisation had come immediately after the private ball at Lord Pollock’s house, when he learned that she would leave for Longbourn. It affected him, for she left no possibility of ever resuming the pending conversation between them. He had hoped they would be able to speak once more. And now it was possible that he would not see her ever again.
“I wonder what she really thinks of me. I wonde
r if she has left for Longbourn because she was really set on closing the door on our acquaintance once and for all.”
Such were the queries that had kept him awake during the last few nights. The Miss Elizabeth of his imagination had different answers to his observations, some fed by fears, others fed by hope.
“I am in agony,” he thought, “I am in agony at the thought that she returned to Meryton because Mr. Wickham was there. If only I could find a way to be sure, if I could be granted a glimpse of promise…”
Darcy felt a physical pain inside himself as he paced around the room; the possibility that Elizabeth had returned to Longbourn because of Mr. Wickham was felt with an intensity he knew little of. That her hand would touch Mr. Wickham’s hand instead of his, that he would be kissing her… it brought pain and nausea at the same time.
As soon as he entered the breakfast parlour, Darcy saw Miss Bennet and his sister engaged in a conversation about a book Jane had read the day before. The subject was light, but it had provided enough entertainment for a couple of days in spite of being rather poorly translated from French. Georgiana expressed her interest in reading it in the original language.
Considering it safe to introduce himself into the subject, Darcy intervened and promised her that he would provide her with the original book in a couple of weeks. On hearing her brother address her, Georgiana’s countenance changed suddenly, and Darcy could not be sure if it was followed by an expression of apprehension. Recently, he had seen the same expression on various occasions, as he tried to speak to his sister, but he had thought it to be a result of her tiredness or some other indisposition; he felt no need to insist upon a response from her. But this time he was convinced it was something of a different nature.
The Very Essence of Love Page 10