Unforgiving Temper

by Head, Gail

  “Miss Bennet,” Bingley began. “I know this is a difficult time for you and your family.”

  “So you have heard the rumors.”

  “Yes, I am afraid there are few in the neighborhood who have not.”

  He pulled idly at the leaves of a nearby shrub as they walked on silently, considering what might be going through her head.

  “And you came anyway?” Jane commented quietly.

  “Of course I came. This does not change anything.”

  “But it does!” Jane's arms stiffened at her sides. “Mr. Bingley, this changes everything, and you know it.”

  “Miss Bennet, please do not listen to idle gossip. I do not.”

  “It does not appear to be idle,” Jane whispered. “As much as it pains me to say it, I fear what little hope there was for us is now gone.”

  “You cannot mean that! We can get past this. I can help, if you will only let me.”

  “And how will you help?” Jane turned to him in heated anguish, the pent up emotions of the past days finding a crack in her reserve. “Can you bring Lizzy home and wipe away her shame? Can you turn back time and prevent her ever leaving? No, there is nothing you can do.”

  “Yes, there is,” Bingley's words rushed out before he could stop them. “I can marry you!”

  Jane froze in her steps and Bingley turned to her with an embarrassed smile.

  “This is not quite how I pictured I would say it, but, dearest Jane, will you marry me?”

  With great effort, Jane managed to stay standing. Her heart pounding wildly as simultaneous waves of joy and doubt coursed through her body.

  She felt the joy, blossoming into a beautiful, exquisite vision she feared to embrace. Was it real? For months she had hoped and prayed for just such a proposal from this man standing before her. Words she had heard in her dreams a thousand times had finally been uttered, and all the imaginings of her heart she had thought forever lost were now within reach. All she had to do was stretch her hand out and take it. All she had to do was say “yes.”

  For one glorious moment she stood poised on the brink, ready to step into his arms and the safety she knew she would find there. She could at last be shielded from all the troubles that had turned her world upside down.

  But a thin, cold mist of reason slowly seeped into her mind, swirling around the happiness, obscuring the vision. Try as she might, she could not push away the realities that crowed in. Last November, she would have joyfully accepted Mr. Bingley's proposal; but then the circumstances were so very different. Her father's poor health and the threatened loss of their estate were ills enough, but now the destruction of their reputation loomed over everything, ready to descend and destroy the lives of all it touched.

  She knew the Bingleys' newly found status in society was still very fragile. Many would never forget that their wealth came from trade. Connecting himself to her family and their disgrace would certainly separate him from any polite society. Bingley's friends would be forced to abandon him – even the Hursts would be unable to receive them. And as for Caroline – any hopes of her securing an advantageous marriage would be dashed as well. She would remain forever a bitter spinster in their home, resenting Jane as the destroyer of all her hopes. Jane could not ruin the lives of so many. She could not be so selfish.

  Doubt now rose from the depths of her mind, shrouding the memories in uncertainty. If his affections had not been strong enough last November, when he had been so easily persuaded against her for reasons much less significant than her present circumstances, then how long would it be before his love grew cold in the face of such opposition as he would face were she to accept him now? And was it even affection that moved him to propose? He made no declarations of love. He spoke only of helping – not of love. Doubt and reason at last intertwined into a thick, suffocating vapor, slowly extinguishing her joy completely.

  With one last look at the destiny that could have been hers, she stepped back from the brink. Fighting the sob that ached in her throat, Jane gave him an answer. “No, Mr. Bingley. I will not marry you.”

  Bingley was dumbfounded. “Why?”

  “Because I will not have you marry me out of pity nor would I have you and your sister partake of our disgrace.”

  “It is not out of pity and you well know it!” Now he was angry. “And as far as my family is concerned, I am an independent man and able to make my own choices. My sisters will have to live with my decisions.” His voice softened and he took her hand. “Darcy and I will find Miss Elizabeth. Marry me and when she does come home, we shall embrace her. The gossip will eventually be forgotten and we will bring her back into society.”

  Jane slowly pulled her hand from his grasp. “I am sorry, I cannot. You are a kind and gentle man, but you are also impetuous, by your own admission. Your regard may very well fade with time and circumstance. You would then undoubtedly regret your rash decision and you would be left with nothing but feelings of indifference for me. I could not live with that.”

  She walked on, leaving Bingley to stare after her. In two strides he was beside her again, his hand on her arm.

  “Jane…Miss Bennet…hear me out! You once accused me of not being steadfast; and now when I am here disproving any degree of unreliability, you reject me. If you would just – ”

  “I cannot…” Jane began, faltering as her heart shattered within her at the words she had to speak, “I cannot give you the answer you seek. Please, I beg you; do not make this any harder for the both of us!”

  He didn't. They walked side by side in silence for a time.

  “Is there not anything I can do for you?” he asked softly.

  Jane chewed on her lip before answering. “I still would very much like to find Lizzy. Of course, I will understand if you have changed your mind.”

  Grasping desperately at the one slender thread that would keep him bound to Jane, Charles replied, “I have not changed my mind in the least! We will find her. I promise you that.”

  * * * *

  An astounded Darcy stared at Georgiana in disbelief, the fatigue of his recent journey vanishing in an instant. Her urgent message calling him back from Brighton had in no way prepared him for what she had just related.

  “Georgiana, what you are saying is absurd! There is some mistake.”

  “No, Fitzwilliam,” she replied quietly, but firmly.

  “Are you quite certain? There are any number of young women in Hertfordshire who...”

  “Yes, quite certain. I asked Mr. Bingley to look into it before I sent my letter.”

  Darcy spun around to look out the window so that Georgiana would not see the panic in his eyes. It was not possible! Not Elizabeth! This was some horrific nightmare from which he would soon awake. It had to be. Feeling Georgiana behind him, he drew a steadying breath.

  “I am sorry,” Georgiana whispered as she gently touched his arm.

  “And what has been done?”

  “Mr. Bingley tried most valiantly to contain it, but the gossip spread so quickly, it was impossible. Miss Bennet and her family are feeling the effects already. Can they be helped?”

  “I do not know. I will have to talk to Bingley,” Darcy breathed evenly through clenched teeth, “but if there is any way to disprove it, I shall see it done if it is the last thing I do.”

  “I hope you can, dear brother. Miss Bennet's family has suffered so much in the past weeks and is in great need of any support we can offer.”

  Darcy gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  “I shall do my best, I promise. Be off with you now while I make myself presentable. Bingley is due back from Longbourn soon and I want to talk with him before dinner.”

  Darcy bent his cheek for her kiss and then gently ushered her out, drawing a troubled breath as he closed the door and leaned against it. He was still trying to take in what Georgiana had said when Denham emerged from the dressing room. Keeping his eye on his valet, he shrugged away from the door and moved across the room. He knew the quiet, e
fficient man to be a very reliable source for any information to be had in any given household.

  “You bath is ready, sir.”

  “Denham, have you been told the rumors concerning Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Darcy was not surprised. Bad news always travels fast, somehow much faster than any good news, he thought acidly. “And?”

  “Sir?”

  “And what exactly are they saying below stairs? I am certain you have a much less polished version than was told my sister.”

  “Yes, sir. I believe so.”

  “I want to hear it. All of it.”

  “Now, sir? Shall you wait to bathe?”

  “No, I need to wash the road off before I see Bingley; but you will give me all the details while I am at it.”

  Quickly Darcy shed his dust-laden clothes and stepped into the polished copper tub, exhaling deeply as the first ewer of cool, clear water was poured over his lowered head. Without looking up, he motioned for another drenching and then another. As heated water was neither necessary nor wanted in the heat of summer, Denham was able to maintain a more or less steady flow for his master.

  Feeling the waves of water course down his back, Darcy wished the agony of the news he had received on his return to Netherfield could be washed away as easily as the dirt and sweat of his journey. At length, he straightened. He was reluctant to add to the pain already stabbing at his heart, yet driven by the need to have any detail that might help save Elizabeth. With an unreadable expression, he finally looked up and wiped the last rivulets of water from his face.

  “Tell me.”

  Denham smoothly began his report as he continued in his duties.

  “One of the house maids returned from the village with the story. It spread through most of the staff before Mrs. Middleton could put a stop to it. She informed Mr. Wilson, who then informed Mr. Bingley. I believe Miss Darcy overheard some talk after church services and insisted Alice tell her what it was about.”

  “From whom, exactly, did it originate? How is it possible that everyone has jumped to this outrageous conclusion so quickly?”

  “Mr. Bingley sent Mr. Wilson to dispel the rumors as soon as he learned of them, but unfortunately it was too late. It all started with a guest at the inn, sir. It seems a woman arrived in Meryton the same day we left for Brighton. She was rather fussy and very particular about her accommodations. In fact, she insisted the bed be made up with fresh linens in her presence. Put the chambermaid right off as she had just changed the bedding that morning and had to do it all over again.”

  “Denham – ”

  “Sorry, sir. While the maid was attending to the linens, the woman kept talking to her, warning the girl about how a young lady should always take care to guard her virtue. Saying it was a very fragile thing that, once lost, could never be recovered. She let the maid know the advice was given on good authority for she observed the results of many a girl's poor choices every day in her position.”

  “Did Wilson confront this woman? What is her position?” Darcy asked impatiently.

  “The woman had already gone by the time Mr. Wilson was sent, but he did question the girl. As she was leaving the room, the maid observed the woman shuffling some papers about on the desk and muttering something about having the heavy responsibility of dealing with the families, relating heartbreaking news, finding out the circumstances; that sort of thing.”

  “Is that all?”

  “No, sir. The girl showed him a pamphlet she found in the room after the woman had gone.”

  “Pamphlet? What pamphlet?”

  “Well, sir,” Denham cleared his throat gently. “It was from Magdalen House, in London, and very clear as to the purpose of the institution. Anyone unfamiliar with the establishment would be left in no doubt of its purpose after reading the tract.”

  “I do not see how any of this could be connected to the Bennets.”

  “According to Mr. Wilson,” Denham continued slowly, “the woman had asked the girl if she knew of the Bennet family, Miss Elizabeth Bennet in particular, and where they lived. She also asked if Miss Elizabeth had been known to spend a lot of time with any of the young men in the local militia.”

  Darcy sprang out of the tub with an oath, unable to contain his rage, and Denham was quick to hold out a robe. “This is preposterous! And from this, Miss Elizabeth Bennet is to be condemned? Where is the pamphlet now?” Darcy's voice hardened. He refused to acknowledge the ominous dread that was closing around his heart.

  “Mr. Wilson took it away with him; but the girl had already shown it to the other chamber maid. The pamphlet and the fact that this stranger knew of Miss Elizabeth AND the time of her departure was too much of a coincidence. I am afraid, too much for anyone to resist drawing the obvious conclusion, sir.”

  “Obvious conclusion,” Darcy muttered fiercely. “And what of the Bennet family?”

  “Miss Bennet is beside herself and Mr. Bingley is á perte as to what else can be done.”

  “I can imagine,” Darcy's lips pressed into a tight line. “Get my clothes, Denham. I need to talk to Bingley as soon as he returns.”

  “Yes, sir; right away.”

  Denham managed to have Darcy dressed for dinner in less than half an hour. Making a final adjustment to the fit of his master's dark green coat and green-flecked vest, he opened the door wide and wished his master the best.

  Descending the stairs, Darcy was just in time to see Bingley enter his study. The look on his friend's face was not encouraging. His hope that Bingley may have some bit of information the others did not was fading fast. He approached the door and knocked softly. At Bingley's bidding, Darcy entered the room and found his friend slumped in an armchair, steeped in misery.

  “All hope is gone, Darcy.” Bingley's lifeless tone was barely audible. “I have just returned from Longbourn. Miss Bennet has refused me outright.”

  “You made an offer?” Darcy stared at him.

  “Yes, I did. I thought that if, or when, we find Miss Elizabeth, it would shield her somewhat; having some connections. It would give her a way back into society, once the gossip died down.”

  “Bingley, you amaze me.”

  “What would you have me do? I could think of nothing else. I was so certain she felt as I did, that she just needed a little time to know I was earnest.”

  “What happened, if I may ask?”

  “I am not certain. We were walking and talking, and before I knew what I was doing, I asked her to marry me. There was a moment when I thought she would accept; but in the end, she refused me.”

  “Did she give you a reason?”

  “Darcy, she actually believes I offered out of pity.”

  “Surely you told her otherwise.”

  “It seems I have not been able to controvert her notion of my changeable nature. Once she refused me, she would not speak of it again.”

  “What will you do now?”

  “For now, my cause is all but lost. I can only hope time and tenacity will change her mind. She did not reject my company altogether. She would still like our help in finding her sister. Which reminds me, did your journey to Brighton turn up anything?”

  “No. The regiment was out on maneuvers – due back tomorrow.”

  “Will you go back then?”

  Darcy studied the candlestick above the hearth for some moments before uttering quietly, “I think not.”

  “But you must! Wickham is sure to have some knowledge of what happened. That night on the terrace has to mean something.”

  There was no answer.

  “Darcy, you cannot mean to abandon the search.”

  “I do,” he said flatly.

  Bingley's astonishment at his friend's abrupt capitulation turned to an uneasy frown.

  “Miss Elizabeth still needs our help. If nothing else, to ensure she is cared for properly. She – and her family – deserves at least that much, and I have come to see that I cannot do it alone. You have resources a
nd connections that I do not; you said so yourself when Jane first came to us for help – when you were so resolute on having a hand in this.”

  “It is impossible now!” Darcy exploded in anguish. “I cannot!”

  “Darcy, you must!” Bingley responded with equal force.

  Bracing himself against the mantelpiece, Darcy rested his head wearily against his arm, fighting the despair that had been unleashed inside him. “Can you not see, Charles?” he whispered. “The circumstances are wholly changed! How can we find her and bring her home to her family in shame? Obscurity is the best she can hope for now! No one would thank us for bringing her home in her present circumstance.”

  “Jane wants us to bring her home! Perhaps we can find something to…that is, I refuse to believe Miss Elizabeth would…I mean...”

  “I envy you, my friend. You always want to credit everyone with goodness. But sometimes, as much as you would like it to be otherwise, the truth contradicts that goodness. And in this case, it cannot be avoided.” The words he spoke ripped at his heart, but he continued, forcing himself to acknowledge the truth as well. “Look at the facts, man! She is gone suddenly, without a word to any of her acquaintance, but with her father's full knowledge and consent. She travels to a place, hidden, unknown, and far from home, with a supposed relative who we find does not even exist.”

  “There could have been a misunderstanding somewhere –” Bingley argued.

  “No, Charles!” Darcy lashed out. “You cannot explain it away! Even before this unknown woman showed up in Meryton, we were fighting the inevitable questions regarding Elizabeth's sudden disappearance. And now, when her name is so clearly connected with a house for fallen women…” He could not finish the thought.

  “All the more reason, I say. Would she not still be in need of our aid and support? Surely, you would not refuse in this time of greatest need? Not when you feel as you do.”

  “When I feel as I do? When I feel as I do?!” Darcy laughed bitterly. “For the love of heaven, Bingley, have you not figured it out yet?”