Book Read Free

A World of Expectations_Book 2_The Confrontation

Page 39

by Gayle Lynn Messick


  “I cannot drink it. Would you care for it? You are welcome to every bottle, but for one. I need it to remind me of what could have been. An Andalusian!”

  “The symbol of strength and power. Ironic! Do you not agree with how things have changed?”

  “How so?”

  “Remember the rowing race between the aristocrat, the gentleman, and the tradesman, fighting for this symbol of strength and power as the prize.”

  “But Blake won, and the aristocrats are still in power. Where is the irony?”

  “The world is changing, and I fear we have reached the point where the change is permanent. Our alliance is the example.” Darcy chuckled as Rawlings’ curious expression continued. “When we started, there were three members from aristocratic families, with only two tradesmen’s sons as partners. Blake won the horse, suggesting that the power still rested with the aristocrats. Today, we have three tradesman partners, and only you and me, neither one of us a titled member of the nobility. We reside on the outskirts of that rank as a nephew of an earl and the second son of one. So you see, the balance of power has changed, and I believe so has the world, permanently.”

  “Interesting. I could add further evidence by describing life in America. But what brings you here? Surely it was not to educate me on the symbolic nature of progress.” He opened the cabinet, placing a bottle of Oban and a bottle of French brandy on a tray as well as two glasses, and then he found his way to his favorite chair. He nodded to the empty chair, a silent invitation for Darcy to stay.

  “I am in need of a friend. You recently said you are my friend.”

  “Always, and apparently your cousin as well! So, what exactly is it you need to disclose to me? Is it about that day, the eleventh day of April? Come, come, Darcy. You shut yourself up in your home for nigh on a week now. What else would you do except mull over and over what was said and done to you. Or is this about your alliance?”

  “Our alliance. And as always, you know me well. My conduct, my manners, and my expressions during the whole of it are inexpressibly painful to me now.”

  When Rawlings attempted to respond, Darcy held up his hand. “Today I will be the speaker, and you will listen. I promise not to interrupt you in the future.” Both men shared a forced laugh.

  “Painful recollections have intruded into my daily thoughts which cannot, which ought not, be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child, I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately, as an only son, I was spoiled by my parents, who, though good themselves; and my father in particular was all that was benevolent and amiable, allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing. I learned to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish, at least, to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty.”

  Darcy sipped his scotch. Rawlings remained attentive; he did not speak or drink, giving his friend time to compose his words.

  “What do I not owe you! You, Kent, Richmond, Blake and, most of all, Miss Elizabeth. I was taught a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. I was properly humbled. Before then, I had no doubt of my reception by anyone. You all showed me how insufficient were my pretensions.”

  “Darcy, I told you once, we all have to accept ourselves for what we have been, what we are today, and what we will become. It is a rite of passage which a good man cannot avoid.”

  “But I need to show everyone, by every civility in my power, that I am not so mean as to resent the past. I hope to obtain forgiveness, to lessen everyone’s ill opinion, and I need to let each of you see I have attended to all your reproofs. I never experienced such shame as I have this past fortnight. I cannot stand the sight of my own reflection.”

  “What? No more standing at the windows glaring at the glass panes?” Rawlings chuckled.

  “Perhaps one day I will return to standing there, but not right now. I keep all the drapes shut.” Darcy leaned back in his chair, cognizant of the warmth of the leather. “I have taken steps to right the wrongs with my cousin, Richmond, and with Kent. I am here to apologize for my behavior to you.”

  Darcy placed his glass on the table. He stood before Rawlings and with his head hung low said, “I do apologize. For Miss Margaret Stevens, for not standing by your side the four years you were married, for being such an arrogant boor and not treating you as a equal, as you are, but as a underling. I am truly sorry.”

  Rawlings placed his glass down, rose and held out his hand. “In America, men shake hands as a form of acceptance. Shake mine, Darcy. I will accept your apology if you accept my hand in apology for pretending to be you and forcing Margaret to marry me. It was wrong of me to do so.”

  The two men shook hands, their clasps firm.

  Rawlings spoke up as they returned to the chairs. “I am sorry I spoke so bluntly when I could have been kinder.”

  "What did you say of me, that I did not deserve? No, do not answer. I see I cannot win this argument. I need advice.”

  “Oh. Do I need to find us a ball?”

  Darcy chuckled. “No, I have learned that lesson. For the remainder of my days, I will never again expect others to look at me as something to be gained. I will treat them as I treat those I admire and respect until such time they have earned my disregard. I promise you that. But your advice is needed when it comes to making amends with Bingley and Blake.”

  Rawlings refilled his glass with brandy. “Excuse me.” Rawlings left the room, spoke to his servant, and then returned, shutting the door behind him. “We will not be disturbed for any reason. I will do my best to help you, but I am not always the cleverest of men.”

  “You write the cleverest of letters.” Darcy smiled, thinking about the first letter from America. He gulped his drink. While Rawlings refilled his friend’s glass, Darcy looked out into the distance.

  “I ruined everything when it comes to the Bennets. You do not know I accused Mr. Bennet of lying about Mr. Gardiner, whom I called a dishonorable man. No, I called him dishonest, a crook.”

  “Gardiner understands. He collaborated with Cuffage, or is it Rogers or Roberts? I get confused on the names. Do not dismiss how Gardiner collaborated with him before we did and he was nearly ruined himself. He does not hold your earlier opinion against you.”

  “But he is not the one I… He is a better man than I am. In truth, I am an arrogant bastard. I must overcome this. I must.”

  “You mentioned Bingley and Blake?”

  “Yes, I did, and I do seek your help. Both Bingley and Blake are still heartbroken over the two eldest Bennets. It was my mess. Much happened that you do not know. Had I been forthright in my assumptions about Mrs. Bennet, I have no doubt Blake would have returned to Longbourn and demanded to see Miss Elizabeth. I never lied, but I never revealed the truth. Until now, I used that as my justification for being correct in my actions, but I cannot do so any longer.”

  “I doubt he would have believed you. His pride was hurt. He owns the same arrogance you criticized yourself with having. No, you should not have spoken up. It was just an opinion—nothing more, unless you know for a fact that Miss Elizabeth had not been sent to London as a precaution.” When Darcy shook his head, Rawlings continued, “Blake is his own man, and must make his own decisions. In the same circumstance, would you have not been more forceful in finding her?”

  Darcy shrugged. “I do not know. I cannot fault Blake.” He leaned over and stared at his boots.

  Rawlings coughed. “And now, what is it about Bingley?”

  “I have come to learn that Miss Bennet did care for him. I was wrong in my judgment, which should not be surprising!”

  “How exactly did you learn this? Did Mr. Gardiner share a confidence?”

  “No. Miss Elizabeth Bennet informed me that my separation of her sister
from Bingley is what facilitated her rejection of my offer of marriage.”

  Rawlings sat upright. His brows lifted up high. “You proposed to Miss Elizabeth? Blake accused you of pursuing her, but a marriage proposal? I had no idea. Does he know?”

  “Yes, that fateful April day I had just finished informing him during his moment to educate me about my shortcomings when you came bursting in the room. I had been selfish in speaking so to him. I should never have caused him further pain. But he did seem to cheer up when he realized I was declined.”

  Rawlings stood and patted Darcy’s shoulder. “Did you not know how she felt? We all knew of her dislike of you.”

  Darcy shook his head. “Phew, as I said, I am an arrogant bastard. I believed she was wishing, expecting my addresses. I was a fool. I never expected any lady to dismiss me, and she did so with great passion. I still shudder when I recall her words.”

  “Did she indicate a preference for Blake? If so, then you must tell him about your supposition.”

  “No. She never spoke about Blake, except once for general politeness and once when accusing me... I do not know how she feels about him; quite angry, I suspect. I should have spoken up when he informed me what happened upon our return to London from Netherfield Park. But…”

  “You loved her even then.”

  “Yes. I did not want to admit it, but I did not want him to have her either. I pretended to be her protector, when what I really wanted was for her to be mine. I concealed this from him. I was wrong to act the way I did. I would never have gone on the balcony that night if… if I had admitted my own feelings. He would have asked her, and she would be his wife by now. I should tell him about Mrs. Bennet.”

  “If you are wrong about her feelings, then it will be cruel. But when did you speak to Miss Elizabeth and offer marriage?”

  “When I visited my aunt in Kent, she was there.”

  “Oh? Did you pursue her with great abandonment?”

  “I thought I needed to do little. She never even realized I was courting her. I thought I was showing her the most honorable attention. The day before I returned to London, I proposed. I am such a damned fool.”

  “Yes. But so are all men when it comes to women. Is that when you learned about Miss Bennet’s true regard for Bingley?”

  “Yes. Should I tell him? And before you answer, I have another confession to make.”

  “Let me refill my glass before you begin.” He refilled his own, and when his friend held his empty glass forward, he questioned him with his gaze.

  Darcy sighed. “I have drunk an excessive amount recently. I understand your habit much better now.”

  Rawlings laughed. “It does not help. Now, your confession?”

  “Miss Jane Bennet came to visit Bingley’s sister in January. Miss Bingley concealed her visit from her brother, and I assisted her in that. You see, I am not only arrogant, but a dishonorable, deceitful man. I am not gentleman-like at all.”

  “Do not be too hard on yourself.”

  Darcy whispered, “That hurts me the most deeply.”

  “What?”

  “I am not gentleman-like. Elizabeth accused me twice, so I know it was not just something she said in anger or haste. She truly believes it.”

  “When did she say it?”

  “When I proposed.”

  “You proposed in an ungentleman-like manner? A most unique method, I must say. Do you agree it was done in such a way?”

  “Most definitely. I am an arrogant bastard.”

  “I think you have established that point. I disagree, but then you still need to discover the truth about who you really are. So what did she say? You cannot leave me in the dark.”

  “The words ring in my ears, every night, and any moment I am not focused on business.”

  “And?” Rawlings leaned back and put the glass to his lips.

  “Well, the first instance she used the term was when I called her uncle dishonest.”

  Rawlings choked on the brandy he had just swallowed. “During a proposal? You said that? I cannot believe it.”

  “It is true. I did say that and more. I used many horrid words to describe her family. I even said they would not be included in any family social events. I told her I would deprive her of her own mother and silly sisters. I told her many would think she was unworthy to be Mrs. Darcy. I never told her I believed her to the best woman of my acquaintance to hold the name. I am an arrogant bastard.”

  “Not the best negotiation tactics, my friend. In fact, it was rather stupid. I assume there were no sharp objects in the room.”

  “I know I am an idiot, and I am glad she did not seek out the fireplace poker!”

  “And the second time she said you were ungentleman-like was…?” Rawlings leaned forward.

  “Oh, she had no problem unleashing her loathing on me. Her exact words were, ‘You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.’ And…”

  “And?”

  “Yes, it is her words that burn in my ears. I cannot make them go away.” He recited them from memory careful to imitate the venomous tone in her speech:

  ‘From the very beginning, from the first moment I may almost say, of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form that ground-work of disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immoveable a dislike. I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.’

  “Ah, the callous remark you made at the Assembly Hall dance.” Rawlings lowered his voice and in the gentlest of tones asked, “Do you really love this woman? Or do you just want to bed her? You are too honorable to do so with a gentleman’s daughter without marriage.” Rawlings tapped Darcy’s shoulder and continued only when he looked up. “Your proposal does not seem to have come from a man who truly loves a woman. I suspect she also did not believe you felt this way. She was just another object for the rich man of Derbyshire to own. Therefore, she could not overlook the way you proposed to her. Only you know the real truth.”

  “I love her with every inch of my body, my mind, my soul. The world looks gray without her, even on the brightest of days. Food is tasteless; music is dull. My whole body craves her smile, or just the tiniest of touches. My arms are empty even when they are full of objects. I am surrounded by a dark cloud and nothing gives me pleasure.” Darcy dropped his head, and sighed loudly. “I take her image into my bed every night, and never once do I do more than hold her tightly in my arms. I treasure her that much.”

  “To quote you, Humph. You promised to be truthful and honest, my friend.”

  “Yes, well, perhaps I am not so chaste in my dreams, and the condition of my bed each morning indicates otherwise, but I do hold her for a long time first. I speak to her in… in… flowery words.”

  The two men sat quietly, sipping their drinks. They stared at the unlit fireplace.

  After a long silent pause, Rawlings cleared his throat. “About Bingley, do nothing. Unless you determine Miss Bennet’s present desires, you cannot further burden your friend. If she has transferred her affections elsewhere, he may never recover from your confession. He had happiness in his hands and he let it slip away. Telling him without knowing would be a selfish act with the sole purpose to make you feel better. Now, if Miss Bennet continues to have a desire for him, then our association with Mr. Gardiner will help reveal it. Then, and only then, you must confess to him. Bingley will hate you for a moment, until he realizes he has won the lady of his heart. He will be joyous, and will not care that you did this.”

 

‹ Prev