He was going to the place which was her favourite when he changed his mind. She had met him so often there that she might try to avoid him this morning, so he made his way towards the grove near the gate. He waited in the grove. More than once was he thankful for the support that the trees provided. Only sheer willpower was keeping him going. His mind was still torturing him with the events of the last eight months, which had resulted in him acting both out of character and against what he perceived were the wishes of his family and friends. Memories floated up unbidden. Old wounds seemed to be reopening. New wounds were appearing. Time seemed to almost stand still as Darcy waited there in the Grove.
Time passed slowly as he waited, leaning on the trees in the grove, waiting, just waiting, wishing that she would come. Finally, he saw her heading up the lane. Swiftly he moved to the gate, and before she could go away he called out to her, "Miss Bennet!" She looked as if she wanted to run away, but politeness took over and she turned back towards him and waited for him to speak. Handing the letter to her he asked, "Would you do me the honour of reading this letter?"
She took the letter, and he bowed and practically ran into the park half afraid that she would hand it back to him or that there would be more words that would widen the gulf between them. Besides, it was painful for him to be so close to her and not be able to hug or kiss her. Over the last few hours and throughout the whole of the night before, he cursed himself for his lack of ease with strangers. The mocking words of Colonel Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth rang in his ears. "And shall we ask him why a man of sense and education should be ill at ease with strangers?" she had teased, and his cousin replied, "I can answer that one without applying to him. It is because he won't give himself the trouble." Could that really be true? Am I really that remiss and ill mannered? Can ease with a stranger be acquired simply by forcing myself to talk to them more? Why has it not worked so far?
He shook his head as these thoughts once more intruded. He tried to clear his head as he wanted to go to the parsonage to take his leave. He knew that Colonel Fitzwilliam would go with him, and on the walk, he wanted to explain what he had done so Colonel Fitzwilliam would not think badly of Elizabeth should she apply to him to verify the information that he had written in his letter. His headache was worsening by the minute, and he was starting to feel tired from his exertions.
Half an hour later he and Colonel Fitzwilliam made their way to the parsonage. "Fitzwilliam, I have to ask you to do something for me," said Darcy, “and I need to explain some things to you first."
"Sounds serious, are you sure the walk to the parsonage will be long enough?"
"No, I'm not sure. However, let me talk."
“All right.”
"When I met Miss Bennet in Hertfordshire I fell in love with her, deeply. Deeper than I ever realised. She means more to me than anything in the world. It would seem that Wickham made his entrance into Hertfordshire Society last November, having joined the _ Militia. He appears to have filled Elizabeth's head with his lies about the living. I do not know what he has precisely said, but last night her accusations would suggest that it is all the same lies that he told Mrs. Younge and all the others when he has tried to sink my character."
“Bugger! I didn’t know that Militia was due to be posted at the same place you were going! That bloody bastard should not have been anywhere near you! Defamation of character should be a hanging offence!" growled Colonel Fitzwilliam
"Well, I've done something that may well have been the stupidest thing in my life! I wrote a letter to explain that, and something else which she said is something that made her think ill of me. Anyway, I've told her the whole of the Wickham story and how it affects our family. However, I told her that you would verify every particular of those transactions, should she wish it. So I am asking you now if she asks you anything to do with Wickham please would you tell her the full truth, and be my witness?"
“Bloody hell, Darcy! You know that could ruin Georgiana?!" cried a shocked Colonel Fitzwilliam, “I thought we had all agreed not to reveal that to anyone?!”
"Yes, I am aware that it could ruin her. I have no doubt that Miss Elizabeth will keep it to herself. I want… no! I need to protect her from Wickham, and the best way to do that is full disclosure. I don’t know what else to do.”
"Well, if you love her as much as you say, Darcy, of course, I'll tell her everything."
"I love her as much and more, Fitzwilliam. She's truly taken over my heart and mind. Oh, I need to ask you something else. Elizabeth has somehow found out about my separating her eldest sister from my friend – did you tell her what I told you on the way down about separating Bingley from an inappropriate young lady?"
“Darcy, you really are such a bloody idiot! Yes, I told her yesterday." Darcy started at this. “You could have warned me not to say anything. I didn't know who the young lady was – are you telling me that it was her eldest sister? No wonder she came down with a headache. The woman could justifiably hate both of us for that!”
"Yes," said Darcy, deflated. "It was her eldest sister. The inappropriateness was not Miss Bennet herself but rather the improper behaviour of her family, Miss Elizabeth excluded. Her mother personifies vulgarity. Sometimes her father does as well. Her father is a gentleman of property, although it's entailed away from the young ladies. Her mother has no connections at all. The aunt who lives closest to them is vulgar and married only to an attorney. Her uncle is in trade and resides in Cheapside. I know nothing about her father's connections. However, Mr Collins, being a cousin on Mr Bennet's side of the family, does not recommend them one bit."
"Mr Collins is her cousin?"
"Yes, unfortunately. I’ve told you that before.” Darcy smirked. Obviously, the Colonel hadn’t paid enough attention, in fact now Darcy came to think of it both his cousins had been acting strangely the whole of this visit.
“True he’s no recommendation, but, Darcy, you do not marry the family, and your connections are so much better that they would not ruin you. You and your family will always be courted because of your wealth and your consequence. Besides you do not have to have the mother at Pemberley – ever! You can always make sure that if you do entertain them, it is always in town, where with the broad range of society Mrs Bennet will become insignificant. Since you fell in love with Elizabeth, why did you separate Mr Bingley and Miss Bennet?
"I did it because I saw connections and consequence as being more important than matters of the heart and had little intention of going so far as to offer her my hand. I always thought that Elizabeth was beneath me for some reason, and put up every rational reason why I should not marry her. As for Bingley and Jane, well I had two more reasons. One was that I want to improve his connections with his marriage, and had hoped that by separating him and Jane that he would soon forget her and then pay his respects to a woman of fortune and good connections. Second, I was convinced that Miss Jane Bennet was indifferent to him. She was so serene when she spoke to him, and although she always showed pleasure in Bingley's company, she never showed anything that to an impartial observer would have shown that her heart was engaged."
"Oh, come now, Darcy, you are just as bad you know. You always treat everybody just the same. I don't think I've ever seen you show much emotion outwardly."
"Well, that would explain some of Elizabeth's comments," Darcy thought out loud.
"I honestly doubt she realises how you feel at all, although to be honest I know you far better, and I certainly didn't realise you love her enough that you would risk everything we’ve done for Georgiana!”
"Tell me honestly. Does everyone really expect me to marry Anne?"
“No, I believe only our aunt wants that.” Again something flickered across the Colonel's face, but it was gone before Darcy could place what it was. Could it be a smugness mixed a little jealousy? Perhaps? “However, she is such an overbearing character that there was some speculation as to whether she would eventually wear you down so that you would do it."
/> "Never! I decided that when I was about eight years old."
"I know that, and so does the rest of the family, it's just our aunt who refuses to believe it."
"She never pays attention to anything but what she wants."
"That's true."
"Actually," said Darcy, a new idea forming in his mind, "Although Elizabeth's sister Lydia is far less principled, Aunt Catherine and Miss Lydia do have something in common – they never think of anyone or anything other than their own wants and desires." This similarity was not as painful to him as he had thought it would be. However, arriving at the parsonage, the discussion was dropped and when they were shown into the parlour, they were informed that Elizabeth was not yet returned from her walk. I wonder if she's reading my letter. It's useless though to conjecture as to what she's doing.
"Mr and Mrs Collins, I came to thank you and your sister Maria for all your hospitality while we stayed with my aunt. Since we shall be leaving early in the morning, I take my leave now and hope that we shall meet again."
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. May I take this chance to wish you a pleasant journey tomorrow," answered Mrs Collins, who was visibly trying to avoid her husband's officious way of talking. "You are welcome to visit anytime, Mr Darcy."
"Indeed you are sir. I must say that I am highly honoured that you have thought fit to honour my humble home with your presence during your stay. I would be highly gratified if you would honour us with your company at any time that you come down to visit your aunt," Mr Collins began, looking like he would continue, but Darcy cut him short.
"Thank you so much. I really must leave for I have some final business that must be dealt with before I leave tomorrow." With that, Darcy stood up, bowed and quitted the parsonage. In truth other than packing his trunk he had nothing to do, but he was feeling so unwell that he could not bear to be in company, especially as in the same parlour where Miss Elizabeth rejected him the previous evening. Colonel Fitzwilliam stayed for nearly an hour waiting for Elizabeth to return. However, he, too, finally returned to Rosings without having seen her.
Chapter 17
“Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?” John Keats, Letters of John Keats.
1st August 1844
Darcy put down his pen and rubbed his eyes. Tears streamed down his face as he remembered those first days following his wife’s rejection of his first proposal. It seemed a cruel twist of fate that there was so much pain in his past. April and May 1812 had a dearth of entries in his journal so the exact phrases and thoughts whirling around his brain during his illness Darcy could not remember. Things seemed dark indeed in those days. All I remember of back then was the pain. The pain and the darkness. I put Georgiana through hell because I had no will to live, no will to carry on. In my heart, I knew I would carry on and be a good steward of Pemberley, whatever life would bring.
I could not conceive at the time that I could win Elizabeth’s hand. I believe that I have loved her since the first day I saw her at the Meryton Ball. I still can’t fully understand how it was that she had such a wrong perception of my character. Yet at the time the shock of her rejection had felt as if it was too much. I may have only been actually sick for about a month but recovery took several months. For some reason, all the painful experiences of my life came back to torture me at that time and I just couldn’t cope anymore.
I can’t put in writing the scenes that my tortured mind came up with. I told her some of the truth of what I saw, but I never told her everything. I could not. I was afraid to put that burden on her. How could I? How could I tell her that I begged God for death because the pain in my chest was searing through me and my whole body? How could I have told her that I got to a point where I could not tell the difference between waking and sleep, what was real and what was fantasy? My mind felt torn and all I wanted was to die. In my selfishness, I wanted the only end to the pain that my torn brain could come up with. I thank God every day that he did not answer that prayer. I thank God that he gave me, my true desire: Elizabeth Bennet as my wife.
During my illness the most atrocious scenes danced in my head. During one particularly bad vision, I had all I saw was devastation and I became convinced that I was the cause of the devastation. I held some strange form of weapon in my hand and people just seemed to fall around me. In another vision, I saw Elizabeth agree to be my wife only to fall dead at my feet when I kissed her - thank God that didn’t happen. No these visions dancing through my head will not go into my book. I could not bear for Elizabeth to know how low I was during those months, nor for Georgiana to know that she had sat by my bed worrying about the very thing that in my selfishness I was praying for. The very memories that held the key to changing my life were at that time making me feel like death would be a blessing. I didn’t even consider at that time that I could have been putting Pemberley at risk. Yet when Georgiana’s husband, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Wickham had all perished either at Quatre Bras or Waterloo had Darcy died when he asked and Georgiana inherited Pemberley, the Darcy line would now be ended and Pemberley’s future unsure.
Darcy looked up as his Son and heir walked into his study. Darcy still couldn’t get over that his son looked so much like he did in his youth. At 31 Edward had been married for the last 6 years and had his father’s sense of family and responsibility. Edward had been very close to his brother, Charlie before Charlie’s death. The fault had not lain with anyone, but like his father Edward had blamed himself.
It had been a tough winter and Charles Darcy had insisted on going riding with his father and elder brother when they went out to see an elderly tenant farmer who needed extra help on his farm. Darcy and Edward had been looking at farming innovations and considering funding an upgrade in the machinery on all the farms to ease the burdens and increase productivity. On the way, Mrs Younge, looking very bedraggled had stepped out spouting much profanity at the Darcy clan. The stallions that Darcy and Edward had been riding just stopped but Charlie’s pony had thrown him from it’s back. Charlie had hit his head hard, and Charlie had died instantly. Edward had been just twelve and Charlie just six. Darcy had learnt from his own childhood brush with death and as a family, they had spoken of their grief and mourned. Julia, Darcy’s only daughter, took to sleeping with her mother for six months after Charlie’s death. Elizabeth hid her pain behind laughter and had often crept into the master’s bedroom after Julia was asleep, only to cry herself to sleep in Darcy’s arms. Again the tears threatened to run down Darcy’s face and he struggled to hold his emotions in. His son though knew him too well, to allow it.
“Father, you look work out. Is there something I can do to help you?” Edward asked.
“No Ed, I was writing out my side of when I met your mother. The memories were overwhelming me that is all”
“How far have you got?”
“To when your mother turned me down”
Edward could not be more shocked. “Mother turned you down? So how did you end up married? How did you change her mind?”
“I really don’t know. I had behaved selfishly and hurt your mother badly. I lived in my pain and my own world. I carried my pain like your 2nd Cousin the Colonel Fitzwilliam carried his battle scars. Your mother, though I hate to admit it, was right to reject me the first time I asked. I had to correct my temper. I had to correct my view of the world. I had to admit that I was wrong. You see after taking over the running of Pemberley successfully at the age of 22 by 27 I thought I knew everything” Darcy snorted here “Son I knew NOTHING of anything that mattered and did not recognise Love when it hit myself, your mother, and your aunt and uncle Bingley all at the same time. I did things that I regret. So when your mother told me to my face all my faults, and a few that were fictions of your uncle Mr Wickham, I knew I had to make amends. Where I knew that I had the right I wrote your mother a letter. However, I was getting sick at that time. The pain that I had worn as a badge of honour now imploded in on me, and I wa
s left in a very dark place for the next few months until your great Uncle and Aunt Gardiner brought Elizabeth to visit Pemberley. From there a small seed of hope sprang up in my heart, although I was very cautious of being too hopeful until later on in that year when your Aunt Catherine tried to interfere to prevent your Mother and I becoming engaged.”
“Father, will you tell me more about that?”
“I’ll do better than that Ed, I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, while I write the very memories that I tell you.”
Thank you For Reading
Thank you to all who have bought this book. The difference that each purchase makes cannot be expressed. If you have enjoyed this work, then I humbly request that you leave a review. Reviews are the life blood of our work. However, whether you leave a review or not please take with you my gratitude to you for the purchase you have made, and my wish that your life may be enriched from the reading of this material.
About the Author
Deborah found her love of Jane Austen’s work when she was 15 by watching the 1995 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice by Andrew Davies. She then read Miss Austen’s books multiple times and began reading fan fiction books, which led her to begin writing her own Jane Austen Fan Fiction (JAFF) in 2010. Deborah’s burning passion is to empower others through the written word.
Deborah left school in 1997. She has many varied hobbies including Watercolour Painting, playing the piano, Violin and the flute. She loves reading a broad spectrum of material which ranging from Philosophy through to the latest fiction. She is a life-long Norwich City Football Club fan. She loves sewing and excels at Cross Stitch. If she is not writing the one thing that she loves is to spend several hours just walking around her favourite beauty spots.
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1811-1812 How It All Began- Part 1 Page 11