Love Unsought

by Kay Bea

  “Oh, that is easy. Every year, Anne brings me to this exact place. When I was a child, we would wade in the pond together. My brother built a swing in the tree over there as well. We used to take turns pushing one another, and Anne would help me pick flowers to take back to the house.”

  Miss de Bourgh said, “I am afraid you will think us most improper, Miss Bennet. For we would often tie up our skirts and wade and splash about. Goodness, I still shudder to think what would have happened if my mother had ever learnt what we were about!”

  “It sounds diverting! I was always in trouble as a child for playing in the water, or more often the mud.”

  “We did get caught once, do you remember, Anne? But it was my brother, and not Lady Catherine, who found us in the pond.” Miss Darcy was already laughing at the memory as she spoke.

  “Georgiana! I had hoped to maintain some dignity with our guest. Now Miss Bennet will think me a complete hoyden!” Miss de Bourgh laughed and continued. “I remember that adventure well. I thought Darcy was going to be furious.”

  Elizabeth was keen to know this story. She could only imagine the fastidious and exceptionally proper Mr Darcy coming upon his beloved sister and cousin splashing about in the water. She easily pictured the stern look of disapproval that must have been on his face. “Pray tell, what came to pass?”

  “This was three summers past, so I was thirteen. Anne and I had come here for our usual picnic and the weather was abominably hot. We were desperate and decided to cool our feet in the pond. The water felt so wonderful! It was such a relief that we felt there was surely no harm in going up to our ankles. Before we knew it, we were in the water to our knees. I do not recall which of us started it.”

  “You started it!” interrupted Miss de Bourgh with a laugh and a shake of her head.

  “Have it your way then. I was thinking that Anne always looked a bit too staid, so I splashed her.”

  “Not to be out done by a child of thirteen, I naturally sought my revenge!”

  “Before long,” continued Miss Darcy, “our gowns were soaked through, our hair was in disarray, and we had lost all sense of the world around us.”

  “That was when Darcy came into the clearing,” said Miss de Bourgh.

  “That was the best part!” exclaimed Miss Darcy. “We both saw him at the same time and stood frozen in place. We could not think of a thing to say, and as we stood there looking at him, he said”—Miss Darcy deepened her voice in imitation of her brother—“‘Pardon me, I was looking for two ladies who were to be on a picnic in this area. I seem to have misplaced them. Please do carry on. I shall continue my search elsewhere.’ Oh, Miss Bennet, I nearly burst from relief. I called out to him, and then he pretended that he had finally recognised us. It was a perfect way to end our game.”

  Miss de Bourgh finished the story. “My cousin removed his boots and then came into the water to assist each of us to the shore. He then helped us rearrange our hair and waited with us until we were dry enough to return to the house.” Turning to Miss Darcy, she said, “I had not thought of that in the longest time. What a wonderful day that was!”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Mr Darcy came into the water? And arranged your hair?” She could hardly account for this version of him. She remembered his countenance when she had arrived at Netherfield, her petticoat six inches deep in mud, and she thought again of his fastidious appearance and impeccable manners. The man described to her now was so different from the one she was used to meeting as to render her greatly confused. It seemed she would have to reconsider a great many things where he was concerned.

  “Oh, yes. Do not let my brother’s stern countenance deceive you, for he can be most diverting.”

  “I shall take you at your word.” Elizabeth smiled mischievously. “I enjoy the water as well. My father taught us to swim in our pond.”

  “Perhaps someday you will visit Pemberley, and there you can teach me to swim!” Miss Darcy cried. “We have many places where a lady could swim privately.”

  Elizabeth began to reply that she did not think Mr Darcy would approve of this plan— and even if he did, she was not likely to ever receive such an invitation—when the man himself emerged from the woods! “While I have no objection to your learning to swim so long as you are at Pemberley, I fear your pleas to Miss Bennet must wait for another time.

  “Please, pardon my intrusion. I have only come to warn Anne that Lady Catherine’s business with Mr Collins has been delayed, and she will therefore be returning early to the house.” He consulted his watch. “You have, I think, about half an hour before she will be looking for you.”

  Miss de Bourgh sighed deeply and stood to leave. “I could give up this entire charade if you would —”

  “I know. I am trying, and I have spoken with her.”

  “Yes, Darcy, you are. Quite trying.”

  “You can walk back with me, and then I shall return for Miss Bennet and Georgiana if they wish to remain here longer.”

  She turned to her guest. “I regret I must leave you. This has been the most pleasant afternoon I have had in a long time, and I thank you for your company. I believe you dine with us at Rosings tomorrow. Until then, my dear friend, be well.”

  “I, too, cannot remember a better afternoon in Kent, or at all in some months. I hope I do not go too far in wishing you success with Lady Catherine.” Elizabeth rose, kissed her friend on the cheek, and smiled as Miss de Bourgh left with Mr Darcy.

  “Poor Anne. My aunt does not give her a moment’s peace. I cannot imagine what it would be like to be her age and still have to watch my every move.” Miss Darcy wrapped up the remains of the cheese and placed it in the basket. “She does not dare even speak at dinner for fear that she will suffer my aunt’s disapproval. I was afraid last summer that my brother would send me here to live. I do not know how I would have survived such a fate.”

  “Why ever would your brother send you here, of all places? I had the idea he had a much different way of doing things.” Elizabeth assumed Mr Darcy did not entirely approve of the way his aunt treated Miss de Bourgh and could not imagine why he would subject his beloved sister to the same circumstances.

  Miss Darcy did not answer. Turning to face the young lady, she saw that Miss Darcy was sitting again. She could see tears on the girl’s face and noticed her shoulders were trembling. Elizabeth sat beside her, as she would comfort her own sister, and she placed her arm around Miss Darcy’s shoulders.

  Elizabeth held Miss Darcy for several minutes until the younger girl’s sobbing was under control and then asked, “Would you like to tell me what has made you cry?”

  “I am afraid you will despise me.”

  “You cannot have done anything as awful as that.” Elizabeth retrieved her handkerchief and gave it to Miss Darcy to wipe her eyes. “It has been my experience that some secrets need to be shared so they might lose their ability to harm us. But you need not speak of anything you do not wish to.”

  “I have not spoken of it to anyone, not even the three who know what happened. I could not bear the way they look at me already, and for them to know the truth of it would be too terrible.”

  Elizabeth remained silent as, recalling the contents of Darcy’s letter, she surmised the reason for Miss Darcy’s tears. At last, Miss Darcy sniffed and continued. “Last summer, I thought I was in love with a man I had known all my life.”

  Elizabeth reached for the girl’s hand as Miss Darcy related her account of the events in Ramsgate and how her loneliness and poor judgment would have led her to ruin at the hands of George Wickham if it had not been for Darcy’s unplanned arrival.

  “Wickham’s face went white when he saw my brother. They retired to the library. I could hear raised voices. It was terrible. I could not make out my brother’s words, his voice had gone quiet, but he must have said that if we married Wickham would never see a farthing of my fortune.”

  Elizabeth gave Miss Darcy’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I heard his response clearly enough to d
etermine that. He said, ‘Why would I marry the insipid brat if I cannot even have her money in consolation?’” Miss Darcy began crying again in earnest. “He never loved me. I wanted to marry him, and he did not even like me!”

  Elizabeth put her arms around the girl and gently patted her hair but did not speak. She made quiet hushing noises until it seemed the girl had cried herself out. Then she said, “Dearest, will you hear what I think? Or would you prefer I stayed silent on the matter?”

  “I nearly let myself be ruined for nothing. You must think I am the most foolish and despicable creature that ever lived.”

  Elizabeth cupped the younger lady’s face in her hand. “I do not think anything of the sort.”

  “You do not?”

  “Your brother wants to assign no portion of blame for any of these events to your actions or decisions, and you want to keep all of the blame for yourself. Neither of you is correct.”

  Miss Darcy straightened and wiped at her eyes.

  “First, let us separate your behaviour from your emotions for those weeks. You are correct. You should not have allowed such liberties with a man who was not your husband, and you should have informed your brother of your renewed acquaintance with Mr Wickham. You were full young, but not so young that you were not able to recognise right from wrong. You knew that you should have written to your brother the moment you began receiving Mr Wickham’s attentions, regardless of what others had to say. You certainly knew it was improper to enter into a secret engagement, much less to consent to an elopement. You are right to feel the blame for this, and your brother and cousin should hold you to account for it. In the end, you did tell your brother what was happening, he did not have to discover it for himself. That took great courage. It shows that you are sensible and good.”

  “But my brother was and still is so angry. He will not speak to me about any of this. He could not even look at me for the longest time. I know he will never trust me again!”

  “You will earn his trust. Trust is a delicate thing and easily broken, but I do not believe he has lost faith in you completely. It will help both of you if you can begin to understand your own part. You must ask yourself why you ever consented to such a thing. However painful the answer, once you know, it will be a lesson you will not soon forget. We know why Mr Wickham behaved as he did. He was seeking pecuniary advantage in the form of your dowry. But why did you? I cannot advise you as to how to speak to your brother, but I would start with the answer to that question, and I believe he will listen if he knows it will help you.”

  “Do you truly think he would listen to me? Even if I wish to speak about Wickham?”

  “Especially if you wish to speak about Mr Wickham.”

  “I have given much thought these last months to my actions in Ramsgate, and I think I know why I behaved as I did. It is silly and foolish, and Fitzwilliam will despise me for it.”

  “Your brother loves you, and nothing you tell him will change that.”

  Miss Darcy looked doubtful. “Being with him was romantic and thrilling. I liked that keeping it secret made me feel like the heroine in my own love story. I know how stupid that sounds, and I know now that a true gentleman would never…well, he would never do the things Wickham did with me with a woman who was not his wife. Oh! I cannot tell Fitzwilliam all of it. I cannot! I cannot tell him the liberties I allowed.”

  Seeing her eyes widen, Miss Darcy hastened to explain. “He wanted to do more, but I was afraid of becoming with child and would not. But do you not see? I should not have permitted any of it!”

  “Dear, sweet girl. You cannot have been expected to know at fifteen what evil lurks in a soul like Mr Wickham's. He has deceived people far older than you.”

  “How do you know? Are you acquainted with him?”

  Elizabeth explained her brief acquaintance with Mr Wickham. Miss Darcy turned pleading eyes to Elizabeth and asked, “Do you really think that I am good and that my brother still loves me?”

  “I think you are very good, and your brother loves you dearly. He would move heaven itself to see you happy. You need have no fear in that quarter.”

  “Thank you. You did not let me escape responsibility, but you also did not judge me. It is the way I have always imagined a sister.”

  Elizabeth tried not to think that had things gone differently they would now almost be sisters. “I have a good deal of practice at being a sister, and I am happy to talk to you any time you wish it.”

  Miss Darcy embraced Elizabeth again and the two ladies sat back on the blanket, enjoying the peacefulness until Mr Darcy returned to walk them to the house.

  When Mr Darcy returned in the company of Colonel Fitzwilliam, he noticed with displeasure that his sister’s eyes were puffy and red. “Georgiana! What is it?” Then looking to Elizabeth, he asked sharply, “What happened? My sister has been crying. What has upset her?”

  “Perhaps, Darcy, we might ask Georgiana,” the colonel said.

  Elizabeth did not reply to the gentlemen. Instead, she turned to Miss Darcy and gave her a quick embrace. “Forgive me, I lost track of the time. Charlotte will be wondering where I have gone. Thank you for a lovely afternoon.”

  Georgiana watched her friend leave before turning to her brother. “Fitzwilliam, you were unkind to Miss Bennet. It is not her fault I was crying.”

  “Who else would be to blame? ’Tis only the two of you here.”

  The colonel wisely remained silent.

  “If you must know, I told her about George Wickham. She was kind and helped me to understand some things I did not before. When I told her I thought you must hate me, she even defended you.”

  Darcy frowned, feeling foolish on hearing her confession. He should not have rushed to judgment before knowing the truth of the matter. “I am surprised you decided to share your circumstances on so short an acquaintance. I am glad you have found someone in whom you can confide.” His astonishment that Elizabeth felt any inclination to speak kindly on his behalf was something he felt he should keep to himself.

  “She is all kindness, and you repaid her thoughtfulness towards you with most uncivil behaviour.” Seeing that her brother was on the point of silencing her, Georgiana pressed forward quickly. “Brother, I would see you happy. I knew last autumn when you wrote of her from Netherfield that you liked her. I do not know what has happened between you, but it is evident that you still care for her. Go. You must apologise. Richard can escort me back to Rosings.”

  “Georgiana, I cannot chase after Miss Bennet. It is insupportable.”

  “Leaving her to think the worst of you is insupportable,” said the colonel.

  “There, you see. Go to her, Brother.”

  Darcy was unsure what he would say, but, in consideration of his previous interactions with Miss Elizabeth and how they had ended in disastrous misunderstanding, he thought that he should perhaps yield to his sister and cousin’s judgment.

  It was Mr Darcy’s good fortune that Elizabeth had taken the usual route to the parsonage and his long legs allowed him to catch up with her.

  “Miss Bennet! I have come hoping to find you before you…” Darcy paused to catch his breath.

  Elizabeth whirled to face him. “Before I what, Mr Darcy?”

  “Before you determined that I am completely irredeemable.” His uncertainty about chasing after her had vanished in the face of her obvious displeasure. He watched the myriad of emotions dance through her eyes as she understood his words, and he was relieved when her natural tendency to good humour gave way.

  Elizabeth sighed deeply and said, “Mr Darcy, no one is beyond redemption. But I thank you for seeking me out.”

  “I believe it is I who must thank you. My sister told me of your kindness to her this afternoon. It has not been easy for her to overcome the…difficulties…she faced last summer. I fear kindness has been in short supply in her life of late.” Mr Darcy’s tone of genuine concern disarmed her.

  “I do not believe it is kindness she is lacking, nor
is it love. Only the confidence to believe she deserves both. Your gratitude is appreciated but unnecessary, sir. I did no more for her than I would for my own sister.”

  “I will have my way in this, Miss Bennet. When I came upon my sister, and it was evident she had been crying, I was distressed. I did not think. I wanted only to discover the source of her upset. I was informed I sounded a complete beast when you had done nothing to deserve my censure.”

  “I confess I had not the least expectation that you would seek me out to apologise.”

  “I suppose not. I have not given you much reason to think I would do so. But here I am nonetheless.” Darcy paused and waited until Elizabeth met his eyes before he continued. “I should like for us to have a better understanding of one another, Miss Bennet.”

  She considered his words for several moments. “As would I, Mr Darcy.”

  “Then let us begin now. I have been hoping to find a moment to speak with you these many days. Might we talk while I escort you to your friends?” He offered Elizabeth his arm and was gratified when she accepted it.

  “I cannot deny there is much unsaid between us, sir.”

  “I have wondered. What were your thoughts on reading my letter? I fear it contained more bitterness than I had intended.”

  “I confess, at first your words gave more pain than pleasure, and I could not at once begin to give them justice.”

  He winced and turned his head, hoping she would not see his disappointment. But she must have noted it as she added quickly, “The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. Upon further reading, I began to give credit to sentiments that too clearly reflected my own. In truth, the greatest mortification I experienced was the realisation of my own poor judgment. Your letter held a mirror to my vanity, and I did not much like what I saw in the reflection. I am heartily ashamed of my behaviour towards you.”

  Darcy was taken aback by this admission. “I can assure you, I had no thought of it being construed that way. I believe I sought only to justify my own actions and, in selfishness, did not consider your feelings. There is surely no need for your apology. Since that night, I have given much thought to your words. Your reproof I shall never forget. ‘If you had behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.’” He shook his head. “You were correct, of course. What sort of gentleman insults and humiliates the woman he wishes to marry? It is I who should apologise to you.”