by Leenie Brown
“Did you love him?” Jane’s question was no more than a whisper.
“We loved each other in a way, but I did not, could not, love him completely. I thought I might be able to eventually, but I know now that it was a vain hope. My heart was irrevocably gone. I do not regret my marriage, but I do regret not being able to give myself to Jack completely.” She pulled back from her sister’s shoulder and looked at her. “It is why I said I would never marry another after Jack died. I knew I would never be able to give my whole heart to any man unless…” She shrugged.
Jane’s eyes were filled with tears. “Unless it was Mr. Darcy.” She pulled Elizabeth back into her embrace and squeezed her tightly. “Oh, my dear, dear sister, you have been so wronged!”
Elizabeth could hear the fury that bubbled beneath her sister’s words. She could feel the stiffening of Jane’s posture.
“It has been made right,” Elizabeth said in hopes of calming Jane’s anger. Jane was rarely angry, but when she was, it was a determined anger that would only be placated when whatever wrong had been committed had been put to right.
“No.” Jane shook her head firmly. “It has not. There is still my husband’s part.” She pulled back and looked at her sister. “Might I borrow a pen and paper?”
Elizabeth looked at her with trepidation. “If I might know why they are needed.”
“I must make arrangements for a stay at our aunt and uncle Gardiners.”
“Oh, Jane, you mustn’t,” Elizabeth cried. “I could not bear to be the cause of distress between you and Charles.”
Jane raised an eyebrow. There was a determined line to her jaw. “Mr. Bingley is the cause.” She shook her head. “I do not know why I did not inquire more about your melancholy mood. What pain I might have saved you if I had!” She stood. “My husband must feel a portion.”
“Jane, please,”‘ begged Elizabeth, although she knew it was to no avail. Jane possessed a sweet temperament, but she was not without her portion of Bennet stubbornness, especially when someone had been ill-used.
Jane cupped Elizabeth’s face in her hands and smiled at her. “It shall not be for a long duration, but he must have what he loves ripped from him as you have had done to you. What did Papa always say? An illustration is a far better teacher than a lecture?”
“But, Jane ─.”
“No. It must be.”
There was a finality to the tone of Jane’s voice, and Elizabeth knew that no amount of pleading would sway her. She sighed. “Very well. I shall get you paper and pen.”
Jane patted Elizabeth’s cheek and smiled. “Ah, now there is a good girl.”
“I am not convinced of my goodness in this,” replied Elizabeth.
Jane pulled her sister from the bed and wrapped her once more in her arms. “All will be well in time. I will not let it be otherwise,” she promised.
~*~*~*~
Three letters had been written ─ one to Charles, one to Aunt Gardiner, and a third to Jane’s housekeeper. Jane was determined that she would not return to her house even to gather her things until five days ─ one for each year of Elizabeth’s suffering ─ had passed. So the children, as well as all the things necessary for a stay of five days, were delivered to Jane at Grace Church Street.
Elizabeth had received a note that evening saying all was well with Jane and the children and promising to call when they were settled. And then, for the next two days, Elizabeth heard nothing from her sister. Naturally, she worried and fretted as one would when a constant correspondent and dear sister leaves to create a stir in her home on your behalf. And so, after fidgeting about, unable to focus on any particular activity for the whole of the morning on the second day, Elizabeth was done with waiting and was just sitting to write a note to Jane when there was a gentle tapping at her sitting room door, and Georgiana entered.
“Would you like to go for a drive with me and then return to Darcy House for tea?” Georgiana asked as she took a seat near Elizabeth. “My brother paces in front of the windows incessantly.” She shook her head. “He cannot seem to calm himself. He gets this way before an anticipated event. He worries.” She smiled at Elizabeth. “I know he will continue his pacing until you are married, but he relaxes for a while after you have called.” She sighed. “He seems worse today.”
Elizabeth placed her pen back in its holder. “I am worried myself.”
“About the wedding?” Georgiana’s eyes grew wide.
“Oh, not about marrying your brother,” Elizabeth assured her. “That, I am quite happy to do.”
Georgiana chuckled.
“I still have not heard from my sister,” said Elizabeth. “She has neither called nor written, ─ and it is very unlike her. If she would but write, I might be, at least, somewhat at ease.”
“A drive might be distracting.”
Elizabeth smiled at the hopeful tone in Georgiana’s voice. “It might be at that. I will get my things.” She rose from her desk to go fetch her bonnet when her maid entered with a letter.
“Perhaps I worried for nothing,” Elizabeth said as she broke the seal and sat next to Georgiana. Then ,holding the missive so that they both might see it, Elizabeth began reading.
Dearest Lizzy,
I must beg your forgiveness for my delay in writing to you. Indeed, as you know, I had hoped to call in person, but settling the children into their new surroundings has been more of a chore than I had anticipated. They are good but excited to be visiting their cousins. I am very grateful to have the help of the Misses Gardiner. They are much like their mother, you know, and excellent with children.
Charles has called twice and written as well. I have refused to see him or even read his letters. I sent them back to him this morning. I know it is cruel, but he was no less cruel to you and Mr. Darcy. I must admit that my curiosity nearly consumes me, and I am uncertain that I can refrain from reading the next letter, should there be one, for I would dearly love to hear his reply to my departure. However, I remain determined to have no contact with him for five days complete. Only then, shall I reply. It is but a small measure of pain compared to what you have endured.
I trust you are well. I shall endeavour to call tomorrow.
Yours ever,
Jane
Elizabeth blew out a breath. “While I understand why she is doing it, and I appreciate her support, I cannot help feeling guilty.”
Georgiana patted Elizabeth’s arm reassuringly. “It is not your fault that Mr. Bingley acted as he did, and it is not as if you forced your sister to respond to the news as she did.” She smiled at Elizabeth. “I have learned that you can only be responsible for your own actions.” She stood. “Now, for that drive. Would it inconvenience your aunt if we were to visit?”
Elizabeth bit her lip and looked at the letter in her hand. “She would not be troubled by it; however, if Mr. Bingley were to arrive while we were there…” She turned the letter over in her hand.
Georgiana sat back down. “Write her a note. Our drive will wait.”
Chapter 6
Darcy rose to greet the man who had come to call on him. “Bingley,” he said with a nod of his head.
“Darcy.” There was a noticeable gruffness to Bingley’s tone, and he held his hat in his hand as if the meeting were to be of a very brief duration. He walked to Darcy’s desk and tossed two envelopes down on it.
Darcy picked them up and turned them over. “Why are you delivering mail to me that is addressed to your wife?”
“I told you to stay away from my family,” said Bingley.
“And I have,” said Darcy, placing the letters back on the desk and pushing them toward Bingley.
“These,” Bingley picked up the letters and waved them in front of Darcy, “were returned to me unopened, and my sweet wife has moved to her aunt’s home and refuses to see me because of you.” He rested his fists on the desk and leaned toward his friend. “You were supposed to stay away from my family,” he repeated through clenched teeth.
&nb
sp; Darcy shook his head and turned away to rummage in a drawer behind him. “How long has she been gone?”
“What difference does that make?” asked Bingley. “She is gone.”
Darcy placed a stack of envelopes on his desk. “How long?” He leveled a glare at Bingley.
“Two days.”
“And she has returned two letters?”
“As you can see,” said Bingley in exasperation, waving the letters once again.
Darcy tapped the stack of letters in front of him. “How many letters do you think are in this packet?” He began to untie the string that held the bundle together.
Bingley shook his head. “I could not say.”
Darcy smiled. He found the confusion on Bingley’s face strangely pleasing. He had wondered how he might react to seeing Bingley again. He had imagined various scenarios of angry confrontation ─ raised voices, strong language, fists, and even swords. However, now, with the man in front of him, Darcy felt a calm deep within his spirit mingled with a sadness that left him feeling as if he should be retiring for the night. He felt no need to assault the man as he had imagined he might. Instead, he longed to state his case, to be heard at last. And maybe, just maybe, to have Bingley understand all that had transpired.
“There are twenty,” Darcy said as he spread them out on the desk. “All addressed to you. None opened.” He chose the letter from the bottom of the pile. It was one which he knew contained the whole of his responsibility in separating Bingley and Jane as well as his plea to see Elizabeth. This was what he hoped Bingley would hear. How many times had he written of these things? He had tried to explain it to Bingley the dreadful day of his confession; however, his pleas, like these letters, had fallen on ears unwilling to hear. “Do you have any idea what is contained within this?” He broke the seal. “I suspect it is very much the same as what you have written to your wife — a plea for forgiveness, a begging that things might be restored.” He unfolded the letter and allowed his eyes to scan it. The pain of each word pricking again in his heart. “Five years,” he said softly, “is much longer than two days.” He dropped the letter on the desk. “I hope you are more successful than I.”
Darcy took a seat and motioned for Bingley to take one as well, which he did after a moment’s hesitation. “I did as you asked. I have not contacted you or any member of your family for five years.”
“But you are engaged to Elizabeth!”
Darcy nodded. “Her uncle brought her to me. I did not seek her out.”
“You should have walked away,” muttered Bingley.
“As you would walk away from your wife?” asked Darcy, his tone less than pleasant.
“I do not follow,” said Bingley. “Why would I walk away from my wife? I love her.”
“And yet, you would ask me to walk away from the woman I love.” Darcy smiled wryly and picked up the opened letter. “A fact you would have known had you listened to me five years ago or bothered to read just one of these letters.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I walked away from Elizabeth for five years, Bingley. Five years! And do you know why? Because you asked me to do so. I have never been a bigger fool. Never!”
“Loved her?” Bingley scoffed. “How does a man walk away from the woman he loves because of the words of a friend? It cannot be a very strong attachment if he does.”
Darcy pushed away from his desk. His jaw clenched in frustration. Any peace he had felt before had vanished in the face of Bingley’s unwillingness to listen. “You left Netherfield with very little encouragement to do so.” He could not keep the anger out of his voice. “You chose to leave. No one forced you, and yet, you treat me as if I had abducted Miss Bennet and locked her away in a tower so that you could not reach her.” He stood. “Your sister did far more to discourage the match than I ever did. I told you that I did not think Miss Bennet partial to you. Caroline refused to see her when in town and sent her a letter hinting that you were to marry Georgiana ─ Georgiana!” He threw his hands in the air. “Did you banish your sister, or am I the only one to have suffered for your foolishness?” He turned away from his friend and then hastily turned back. “No. No, I did not suffer alone. Elizabeth has suffered as well.” He pushed the open letter toward Bingley. “Read it. I will hear no more from you until you have heard the whole sorry business.” With that, he stalked to the door.
“Campbell,” he called down the hall, then waited until the man joined him. “This man is not to be admitted to this house again without the letter I have just given him in his possession.” He turned to Bingley. “Your wife, however, will always be welcomed, for I could not bear to separate Elizabeth from her sister.” He gave the hem of his jacket a tug. “I will be in the yellow sitting room if either of you need me.”
“Mrs. Amberly has just arrived, sir,” said the butler.
Darcy closed his eyes for a moment before turning back toward Bingley. “Mrs. Amberly,” he said emphasizing the title. “Miss Bennet was still Miss Bennet when you returned to Netherfield. Imagine if she had not been.” He gave a nod to his butler and left the room.
“She’s a lovely lady. Mrs. Amberly is. Thought she was going to be our mistress years ago, but it is set right now.”
Darcy chuckled when he heard it and stopped to wait for Mr. Campbell to join him.
“I know it is not proper, sir,” Campbell explained as he reached his employer, “but he needed to know.”
Darcy clapped the man on the shoulder. “I appreciate your loyalty, Campbell. It was well done. Now, will I find Mrs. Amberly in the sitting room?”
“I assume so, sir. She and Miss Darcy were startled by the commotion, and I dared not tarry in heeding your call.”
“My apologies, Campbell,” muttered Darcy. Yelling and bellowing were not things that Darcy did so he could imagine how doing so might have unnerved his faithful servant.
“No, need to apologize, sir. I assume there was just cause” replied Campbell with a nod.
“While that is true, Campbell, I should not have raised my voice to you.”
“This is one time, sir,” Campbell looked back toward the door to Darcy’s study, “that yelling is not only allowed but expected.” He turned back to his employer and with a smile very unlike a butler and more like an older, wiser friend, he said, “There is a lady awaiting you, sir.”
Darcy could not help the smile that formed on his lips. She was waiting for him. His Elizabeth was waiting for him. He hurried down the hall and to the sitting room.
“Are things well?” asked Georgiana as he entered.
He gave her a small smile. “They will be if there is a carriage at which you can look.”
Georgiana shook her head and rolled her eyes at her brother. “I believe I might be able to find one.”
He winked at her and gathered Elizabeth, who stood next to Georgiana, into his arms and held her firmly against his chest.
“What has happened?” Elizabeth asked. She could hear his heart’s rapid beat with her ear pressed against him as it was.
He kissed the top of her head. “I will tell you in a moment.”
She rubbed small circles on his back where her arms wrapped around his middle. She wanted to ask him again about whatever it was that was disturbing him, but instead, she listened to his heart as it gradually returned to a steady, regular beat.
Georgiana made a shuffling noise from where she stood by the window, and Elizabeth attempted to pull away from Darcy.
“Just one more carriage, Georgiana,” Darcy said.
The comment was met with a sigh, and Elizabeth tried again to pull away.
Darcy smiled down at her, his eyes holding hers for a moment and then lowering to her lips and returning to her eyes.
She returned his smile with a welcoming one of her own.
A few delightful moments later, Georgiana coughed.
Darcy released Elizabeth from his embrace and catching her hand, led her to a settee where Georgiana joined them.
“Bingley
is here,” he said as Georgiana was just taking her seat. “He is furious that Jane had gone to the Gardiners and blames me.” He wrapped Elizabeth’s small hand inside his large ones. “He is still unwilling to listen, so I left him with a letter ─ one of the ones I wrote him five years ago.”
“You kept them?” Elizabeth’s eyes were filled with surprise and a small amount of sorrow. “Such painful things to keep.”
Darcy nodded. Those letters had been a constant torment to him for months as, at first, one and then another was returned unopened. He had tried to burn them on several occasions, but he could not. He was not entirely sure why he had felt compelled to keep them, but he had.
“Twenty!” Bingley said from the door, a stack of opened letters in each hand. “All are nearly the same.” He took a step into the room but stopped. “May I enter?”
Darcy motioned for him to join them.
Bingley blinked, and his lips twitched as if trying to contain his emotions. “They vary only in the tone of desperation,” he said softly. His hands, filled with papers, hung at his side, and his gaze dropped to the floor. “I do not know what to say other than I was wrong. I would beg your forgiveness, but I am certain I do not deserve it.”
“You do not, but is forgiveness ever deserved?” asked Darcy. “Or is it a gift bestowed, and not easily so, by the one wronged?”
“The harm I caused,” said Bingley looking first at the letters in his hand and then at Darcy and, finally, Elizabeth. “It is so great.”
“It is,” agreed Elizabeth. She stood and reached for the letters Bingley held. “Please?” she said when he did not seem willing to give them to her. “Be seated,” she added as he relinquished the papers.
Returning to her seat, Elizabeth smoothed the papers on her lap. The fine, close writing begged to be read, but she refrained from reading more than a phrase or two; however, it was enough of a glimpse into the pain of the man who wrote them. She looked up from the letters and into Bingley’s eyes, which glistened with unshed tears. “Jane and the children are settling in well at the Gardiners. The children are excited to see their cousins.” She drew a deep breath. “I tried not to let her know of your part in my separation from Mr. Darcy, for I did not wish to cause you pain by causing strife between you and Jane.” She saw him bite his lip, which trembled slightly as his eyes blinked away the tears that gathered at their rims.