Oh, if only he'd had the courage to simply tell her the contents of the letter. Then certainly he wouldn't have to suffer the memory of her biting response. Try as he might he could not remove the statements from his mind and yet again he deliberated over her words.
"Please, you must allow me to explain," he had stammered.
"I must allow you nothing sir, must I allow you to speak of how ardently you love me whilst simultaneously insulting me and my family? You, sir, are the worst kind of blackguard. You spoke to me of love and admiration, all the while thinking yourself less than for your feelings. How could I ever recover from such an assault? To think that you felt it prudent to insult me in such a manner only speaks to your vanity. That I might be somehow gifted with your unsolicited affections. To be so horribly let down at a moment that should have been a most glorious memory to hold dear in my heart, only increases the pain that you caused me in your efforts. Even Mr. Collins in his gross ineptitude managed to exit our interview without causing me sleepless nights."
Oh, mercy, he had not known until that moment that Mr. Collins had proposed to her. He did know that Mr. Collins stood to inherit the Longbourn Estate and as such, her refusal of his proposal proved once again her merit. She had no desire to marry for anything but love and he had failed in proving his to her.
He thought further about his impropriety in giving her a letter. Perhaps he had been found out. Oh, what a conundrum. Why couldn't he have just expressed his thoughts in person? He was a coward. He knew it, what if she'd been found with a letter from him? For a fleeting moment, he smiled at the thought of his impropriety being discovered with a subsequent assumption of an understanding.
Cursing himself he admonished himself for even allowing the idea of entrapment to give him pleasure. Certainly, it had not been his intent. His mind was bouncing to and fro and he began laughing out loud at the idea that he, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy would entertain the idea of entrapping his beloved. This was not the sort of gentleman he wanted to be, yet here in his private room he allowed himself a moment to consider what life would be if she had no choice but to marry him, and she could be his forever.
Ridiculous he decided, after allowing himself to revel in the idea for much more than a moment.
That's not the way to a woman's heart Darcy, he chastised. Then the ludicrousness of it all struck him in the chest just as surely as a bullet. Here he was behaving in much the same manner as the family to which he'd been so certainly judging. Mrs. Bennett would likely take advantage of any compromising situations. His head spun with the multitude of dire consequences his selfish actions could produce. She had refused him, yet he still sought her good opinion.
He had never allowed himself the opportunity to consider that she might harbor an attraction to him. His mind so clouded with propriety, and now he had wounded her with his callousness.
What was it he himself had told her? His good opinion once lost is lost forever? Oh, how foolish he had been. Certainly, she'd hold him to the very same elite standard that he'd so boldly boasted of himself. Would she?
No, he thought, Elizabeth Bennet was many things but spiteful she could not be. Perhaps she would consider changing her opinion about him, after all, she prided herself on being an excellent judge of character.
This maniacal back and forth continued in his mind until it threatened madness. He couldn't allow the unknowing to gnaw at his insides forever. He had to know if his letter had in any way shifted her opinion of him. He must be near her, if only just to see her one last time. He rushed to his writing desk and hastily began, in much the same uncalculated manner in which he'd written Elizabeth. He paused for a moment in regret. His letters, so steadfastly considered, each word chosen with such care, his hand so steady and sure. He prided himself on the appearance and impression of his letters, and yet he'd rushed through his letter to Elizabeth pouring his mind out like a teapot in a desperate attempt to get her to see that he wasn't the man she thought him to be. Oh, vanity? What she must think of him on top of all his other faults and failings over their acquaintance. He'd given her an unstudied letter. This spell she'd cast over him was near likely to turn him into a madman if he couldn't shake her from his mind.
Yet I still don't want to let her go, he thought. I won't let her go, I simply can't.
And with that, he began another unstudied letter.
Dear Charles,
CHAPTER SEVEN
Within a few days time Elizabeth had quit Hunsford as planned and met with Jane and in London in preparation to return back to Hertfordshire. The comfort of having her sister near soothed her frayed nerves and for a time she almost began to feel a small sense of normalcy, but it wouldn't last. Try as she might she could not bring herself to explain the tumultuous few days she'd had prior to her departure from Hunsford. They spoke little of Mr. Bingley, as Jane had seen none of him during her stay in London. Miss Bingley had come to call, but it had been a jilted tense affair that even Jane struggled to make pleasantries about. That she no longer harbored any feelings for Mr. Bingley, Jane was adamant, insisting she'd barely even recognize him on the street, were she to pass him by.
Elizabeth felt the pain of her sisters need to convince herself thusly, as she herself had been awake nearly every night trying to do much the same concerning her own predicament. Elizabeth knew that Jane would never harbor a secret, and certainly wouldn't consider her own self-delusions to be secretive, but she didn't for a minute believe Jane's assertions. She wanted so desperately to talk of their circumstances, but she didn't want to bring pain to Jane, and she certainly didn't want to have cause to lie, as she assumed that her knowledge of Mr. Darcy's participation in the separation of Jane and Mr. Bingley might come up.
By the break of fast on the third day, Elizabeth couldn't stand it any longer and casually brought up the guests at Rosings.
Jane smiled, "I do so hope Mr. Darcy's cousin proved to be of more agreeable countenance than Mr. Darcy."
"Oh, yes," Elizabeth said nodding her head in agreement, "he was a generally kind man, a second son though, but with none of the airs of his cousin."
Jane frowned, "Oh, that's unfortunate. I mean, that he was a second son, of course."
"Yes of course," Elizabeth agreed, struggling to find an opening for the conversation she so desperately wanted to have, but feared so fully.
Jane, ever the intuitive sister took the bait and continued on, "Surprising that you've only just now mentioned seeing Mr. Darcy. You did so enjoy disliking him." Jane couldn't hide her smirk. Even Jane in her gentle kindness enjoyed a good tease. Jane could only see the good in everyone, yet she had an uncanny ability to see between the lines when it came to her sister Elizabeth. Her sister's omission of the unexpected company was, in her opinion, an intentional omission, giving to something that Elizabeth wanted, but feared to share.
"And, did you find Mr. Darcy to be more agreeable?" Jane began, expecting to hear yet another of Mr. Darcy's rude comments.
Elizabeth felt a pang of betrayal. Yes, she did find him more agreeable, but what he had done, separating Mr. Bingley from Jane. Oh, how could she betray her sister by having such feelings for a man who had caused her beloved sister such duress? Then again, what did Mr. Bingley's ease of departure say about his feelings for Jane? Oh, it was all too much and Elizabeth shook her head in the confusion of her feelings. She could feel her tears rising to the surface, and she knew she mustn't at all costs, tell Jane of Mr. Darcy's interference.
She felt ashamed as she struggled with what seemed to be a choice between her sister's happiness and her own. Only until such time as she realized that it was all for naught. She'd rejected Mr. Darcy most permanently and she certainly couldn't harbor any hopes of another proposal. That is, if she somehow managed to reconcile the warring emotions inside her.
With a deep breath and a fervent trust in her sister's love for her, Elizabeth began, "I have a confession to make that I feel must be kept between us, for everyone's sake. Though I feel wrong g
iving you such a burden."
Jane stopped chewing, and looked up at Elizabeth, certainly she would always be available to her sister for something such as this, and Elizabeth knew as much.
"Elizabeth, you needn't preface with such dire warnings, you know I would happily carry your burden."
Elizabeth stalled for a moment, should she place such a heavy mantle on her sister's shoulders?
Oh, stop being so silly, Elizabeth, there is nothing to come of it, she thought to herself, and blurted it out like a much younger Bennet sister might.
"Mr. Darcy proposed to me."
There, she thought, best to just come out with it.
Jane put down her fork and stared blankly at her sister.
"Mr. Darcy? Mr. Bingley's friend Mr. Darcy? Mr. Darcy of Pemberley?" Jane had run out of descriptive titles.
Elizabeth let out a gentle chuckle, "Yes, the very one."
Jane put down her napkin, "well, I-" she struggled.
"Am speechless? Yes, it was a bit of a surprise." Elizabeth said.
"I should say so." Jane added, "Did you have any idea of his feelings?"
"No, yes, no," Elizabeth was flustered. Having shared this intimacy with her sister made those feelings of loss erupt again in her chest and that ache resurfaced. "I was blind to his admiration, but Charlotte was not, and as such brought the idea to my attention. So, in that measure, I did have a slight opportunity to consider the idea. Although I, of course, dismissed Charlotte entirely, treating her rather ill I should say, of which I was wholly ashamed, but Charlotte practical as she is, just took it as a sign of my..." Elizabeth froze again. She hadn't thought this through. If she admitted her feeling for Mr. Darcy how would she ever reconcile his horrible behavior toward her sister? Where was her loyalty?
"I'm sure Charlotte forgave you immediately," Jane said, ever the generous friend.
Elizabeth smiled, "Of course she did, she only saw my mistreatment as evidence."
"That you had feelings for Mr. Darcy as well?" Jane suggested.
Elizabeth threw her head into her hands, embarrassed. "Oh Jane, I'm such a fool. What do I know of love? I certainly can't be trusted to believe any of my feelings. They are without basis."
Jane let out a chuckle, "Certainly you can't believe that being in love is a neat and orderly thing my dear sister. If it were they wouldn't write books about it."
Elizabeth looked up at her sister, she'd misjudged her to be a far more delicate flower than perhaps she really was.
"I cannot justify my feelings, he has behaved most horribly," Elizabeth added, certain she must consistently review Mr. Darcy's bad behavior as though it might somehow save her from Jane's judgment. A judgment that Jane would most certainly never make.
"Elizabeth if feelings could be justified they would be called opinions. They seem to have a mind of their own, having nothing to do with the events surrounding their birth."
Elizabeth nodded her head, "That is a most astute observation."
Jane put her hand on her sisters, "So may I be the first to congratulate you or has dear Father rejected Mr. Darcy's request?"
Elizabeth, felt her eyes fill with tears, there was no stopping them.
Jane rose from her chair and helped her sister to her feet, "Come let's to our chamber where we can be assured of greater privacy."
In turn, they made their way to their chamber where Elizabeth let out the torrent of emotions bottled up inside of her, while Jane stroked her hair and let her own silent tears fall. Silent tears for the love she still felt for Mr. Bingley.
When Elizabeth had emptied her coffers she felt significantly better and a gentle laugh came about her in considering how ridiculous the entire affair seemed even to her.
Jane felt the release as well and joined her in the feeling of relief. She too had spent many a sleepless lonely night considering the sadness she had bottled up inside of her.
"Are you much recovered?" Jane asked tentatively, patiently awaiting an explanation for Elizabeth's outburst.
Elizabeth hugged her sister tightly and took a deep breath. "Yes, I am recovered," she said, wiping the wetness from her eyes.
"I guess an explanation is in order," Elizabeth said.
"Well it would go a long way toward clearing up my confusion," Jane offered, smiling broadly.
"This cannot be," Elizabeth said, the weight on her chest returning. Fortunately, though her tears had been emptied.
"I don't understand," Jane said. "It seems apparent that you admire him greatly."
Elizabeth paused for a moment, reminding herself to keep certain truths from escaping her lips. "He is not the kind of man I want to have a great admiration for."
"Are you certain of his qualities?" Jane asked.
"Of course I am, we all are, his behavior has been in evidence for all to judge, has it not?" Elizabeth spat.
"I am only suggesting sister that perhaps the motivations for his behavior have been unfairly judged. He did, after all, begin his acquaintance with you by insulting you. Perhaps you have only seen him through the filter of your wounded pride?" Jane suggested.
Only Jane could make such a suggestion without causing Elizabeth the desire to defend her position.
"But his treatment of Mr. Wickham, certainly that alone is cause for judgment," Elizabeth said.
"I don't think we can come to a decision as to the veracity of Mr. Wickhams claims without considering the explanation of Mr. Darcy. Wouldn't such actions as those that Mr. Wickham accuses Mr. Darcy of be damaging to Mr. Darcy's reputation? Certainly, a man who has shown such consideration of his character, of his family's reputation wouldn't risk it out of a spiteful and petty childhood jealousy. Especially in a public arena."
Elizabeth wiped her eyes, nodding her head. "That does make sense," she said. "I have another secret."
"Oh, alright, pray tell this is the last one, I fear I may meet the inquisitor upon our arrival in Longbourn."
Elizabeth pulled the ink stained paper from her bosom held it lovingly in her hands.
"Oh, dear, is that from Mr. Darcy?" Jane asked
Elizabeth nodded her head.
"Is that a love letter?" Jane asked, covering her mouth at the very thought.
Elizabeth opened the letter and showed Jane the smeared contents.
"I don't understand," she said, taking it as Elizabeth offered it to her.
"It fell in the brook," Elizabeth shared.
"Pray dear, do say it was after you read it?" Jane grimaced with fear at the potential answer.
"I wish I could, I've no idea the contents," Elizabeth answered.
"Do you have anything to such that you might hazard a guess? What was his disposition when he delivered the letter. How did he- oh never mind."
"In broad daylight in Hunsford on my morning walk," Elizabeth answered.
"Oh, my," Jane held a hand to her chest, "that does speak volumes of his affections for you."
"Yes, it speaks volumes about his complete lack of decorum in placing me in such a position," Elizabeth corrected. "What if he had been seen?"
Jane giggled, "Well he did request your hand, certainly he's open to the idea."
"Don't be ridiculous Jane, not by compromising me."
"Perhaps you've finally cracked Mr. Darcy's controlled exterior?" Jane suggested.
"Well, he was rather frantic, so frantic indeed that he made me angry and that's how I fell in the brook."
"I'm not certain I follow," Jane said.
"I was so discomforted I tore off into the woods like a madwoman and fell into the brook."
"Oh dear, you two are a match, for certain."
"Well it doesn't' really matter now," Elizabeth said. "I've dismissed him most horribly and he'll most likely avoid any future interaction with me. I doubt I'll ever have the pleasure of knowing what was in the letter."
"He didn't give you any indication?"
"Well, it seemed as though it contained an explanation of sorts."
"It must have
, see there, he defends his character, of course there is an agreeable explanation for his behavior. I shall carry the torch of hope for you," Jane offered.
Elizabeth smiled, "Oh dearest Jane, you are too kind for us mere mortals."
As much as Elizabeth warmed to her sister's aspirations, she felt she could not join her in any hope for a future with Mr. Darcy. Her words had eliminated any chance of happiness with Mr. Darcy.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The return to Longbourn brought with it a return to normality in as much as normality existed in a family like the Bennet's. After a few weeks spent tossing through the night thinking in circular patterns about Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth almost welcomed the cacophony of her household like the dulcet tones of a Sunday hymn.
If Elizabeth had any concerns of being left alone with her thoughts, she needn't worry. The house was all a ruckus with the ensuing departure of Lydia to Brighton. It seemed the militia regiment, of which Mr. Wickham was a part, had plans to move on to Brighton, and Lydia had been invited to accompany Colonel Forster and his wife. No amount of discussion on Elizabeth's part managed to convince her father to rescind his permission for the trip, and Elizabeth hung her head in distress and exhaustion.
They were to be off the day after tomorrow and Elizabeth felt certain they were headed for disaster if her father did not put a stop to Lydia's reckless behavior.
Shortly after the din of Lydia's arrangements settled, the Lucas' called upon the Bennet's with news of a party to be held in honor of Maria's return. Elizabeth couldn't help but think of Mr. Darcy, at the last gathering of Sir Lucas, but then that malady seemed to be a permanent one, and she, therefore, decided upon looking forward to the event with some small matter of excitement.
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