“Miss Eliza Bennet holds an immense fondness for books, but takes hardly any pleasure in witty games as such.”
“The remark does not do quite justice to either my endearment towards reading which, I must correct is not immense, but only a mere occupation to pass my time pleasantly, and nor to the fact that I hold not contempt lieu rather high regard for chess,” I replied with absolute serenity.
“Indeed, that is quite true. Miss Bingley, I’m afraid, you misjudge Miss Bennet’s competence in chess; she reflected sublime skills in her victory against Mr. Hurst the day before, and has quite mastered the art of tactics,” spoke Mr. Darcy, much to my surprise; his usual indifferent self, so transparent.
“That must have been quite a match, Miss Bennet! Mr. Hurst here, is probably the best amongst us but perhaps a little close in competition with Darcy yet nevertheless, quite capable!” exclaimed Mr. Bingley in his usual elated tone.
“Oh, I’m afraid Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, you quite flatter me! I only wished to spend my time pleasantly and Mr. Hurst was ever so kind to offer me to play,” I cried.
“Oh, any time dear,” spoke Mr. Hurst.
While Mr. Bingley smiled pleasingly in approval, Mr. Darcy looked unconvinced and withdrawing his gaze off me, he employed himself in reading a book.
Perching myself on a nearby sofa, I commenced reading my book with slight disturbance from Miss Bingley’s assertions, aimed mainly upon Mr. Darcy’s obvious cerebration,
“I can guess the trope of your contemplation.”
“I should imagine not.”
“You’re thinking what remarkable taste Miss Bennet must have for preferring a book such as ‘The Great Gatsby’ to engage her attentions, - equally as remarkable as her supremacy in chess,” she declared, smirking with absolute pride at comprehending his thoughts the best.
“Your speculation is absolutely wrong. My thoughts were more engaged in surmising the extent of my resentment towards Fitzgerald for insulting the male sex so abominably by depicting them as bearers of superficial convictions – their lives spoiled, and driven by idle love,” he replied with faint contempt. And, though the verdict was addressed towards Miss Bingley, his gaze fixed upon me with a surprising desperation, as if it was his chief desire for me to remark upon such incredulous reasoning,
“Mr. Darcy, I’m afraid, you incredibly shock me! How much injustice you invoke upon Scott Fitzgerald’s brilliant art of rendering the limits to which ardent affection can make a vehement lover cross, only invite me to the conclusion – that a person only devoid of equal passions, shall declare such baseless speculation. And, you forget, Fitzgerald actually does remark upon the reality of love being our only medicine in times of despair – ‘And in the end, we were all just humans…drunk on the idea that love,-”
“- only love, could heal our brokenness. Correct. All of a sudden, you seem to have reminded me of the distinct emotions with which I had regarded Gatsby,” he spoke, gazing fixedly upon me, with such rare sorrow yet a desperate longing, so vehement, that I looked away, and said,
“And pray, what those may be?”
“A tragic similarity.”
Before I could reply to such unusual feelings, Miss Bingley, out of pure boredom, broke out,
“Oh Mr. Darcy, pray don’t be so morbid.”
And so, as the hour grew late, we retired to our rooms, and as everyone enjoyed but a tranquil slumber in their beds, Mr. Darcy’s unusually genial behavior, coupled with a distinct portrayal of intellect, troubled my thoughts the entire night.
The next day passed pleasantly as I wandered about the gardens, lost in my own thoughts, quoting poetic verses upon the freshness and energy in the air, caused as such by the beautiful nature that beheld Netherfield, and hardly interacted with the ladies and the gentlemen except only at dinner after which, excusing myself, retired early to bed.
Jane had improved remarkably early. She was now possessed with lively spirits which greatly pleased Mr. Bingley and implored me to call upon the carriage from home as it would be suitable to depart soon. Though Mr. Bingley was quite saddened to hear of it but as it caused Jane’s pleasure, he immediately offered his own horses to take us home. Bidding our adieus, we departed Netherfield for Longbourn.
Chapter Five: Strange truths and absolute conviction
A few weeks had passed since our return home that an invitation of a ball at Meryton was sent and on one cool evening, we found ourselves pleasantly engaged in good, substantial company.
While Lydia and Catherine spent the most of the evening in the company of the officers, Mary engaged herself with the piano-forte and as Jane had engrossed herself in a conversation with Charlotte, I surprisingly made a new acquaintance – Mr. Wickham.
Mr. Wickham was a cheerful man with gentle manners and light humors with which he seemed to please everyone present and it was really a matter of coincidence that I found myself strike a conversation with this courteous man. However, the subject of our talks, much to my surprise and discontent, circled around the history of Mr. Darcy.
“I suppose you’ve paid a visit to Netherfield?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Pray tell me, how long has Mr. Darcy been staying there?”
“About a month, sir. I’ve heard he owns quite a large property in Derbyshire.”
“Yes, he does. Quite a large estate. A ten thousand per annum, to be exact. You could not have found a more suitable person to give insight on it than myself, for I have been connected to the family since my boyhood years I’m afraid.”
I suspect my immediate surprise on the proposed notion might have been too evident that he added,
“Yes, I really do not blame your surprise since it is only natural to wonder why no mention of me had been made before you by Mr. Darcy -”
“Oh, sir, I really never inclined that; I think of Mr. Darcy as abhorrently disagreeable and would not be much surprised if he did not pay the mention of such a good fellow as you.”
“I take no right in dispatching my own opinion. I’ve known the family too long and too well to be completely impartial, thus, I leave the determination of his character upon your shoulders and shall only wish to proceed with the bare reality. You see, the late Mr. Darcy has been the truest friend to me, and if it had not been for his affectionate and generous nature I would never have found myself in a company as such. His son’s attitude towards me, I’m afraid, has been of the most barbaric sort. But in order to relish upon his father’s kindness and to honor his high virtues, I restrain myself always, for feeling ill towards his son. You see, the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me an ample provision, sufficient enough to sustain my needs; but as he fell ill, Mr. Darcy, choosing to doubt the recommendation, robbed me of my rights and the pleasant life that had then awaited me. At such point, I discern myself a man quite different to him but no matter how much he has continued to despise me, I cannot bring myself to pose an equal gesture as long as his father’s care and warmth remains alive in my memory.”
The intensity with which this revelation made me detest Mr. Darcy, it equally made Mr. Wickham more noble in my sight.
“It embarks quite a shock upon my nerves, I must say. I had discerned Mr. Darcy as a man with disagreeable attitude towards people in general, independent of any such actions, yet, this abominable reality truly ills his persona (which I had begun to find agreeable) in my opinion. I can only imagine the pain it must have caused you to suffer. Can such pride be only attributed to Mr. Darcy or is his sister also a tragic victim of this conceit?”
“Miss Darcy, I’m afraid, is very much like her brother – in spirits, as well as behavior. I do not wish to pass any insult to a Darcy, yet, it only saddens me to see how striking the resemblance is. As a child she grew highly fond of me as I often served as an encouraging listener to her music. But all is lost now. Presently, she’s a handsome young lady who’s been residing in London with a highly accomplished governess ever since her father’s death.”
And so, we cont
inued to converse for quite a time until supper put an end to our discussion and as we parted in the evening, I could not draw Mr. Wickham’s graceful and well-bred behavior towards the ladies and of all he had told me, the naked reality about Mr. Darcy, out of my mind.
Chapter Six: The unexpected visitor
A few months had passed since the ball at Mrs. Philips abode that a letter from Mrs. Lucas reached us, informing of the glad tidings of Charlotte’s marriage with Mr. Collins. I must say the match quite surprised me at first, realizing unfavorable Mr. Collins was in character; but perceiving Charlotte as a lady only desirous of the comfort of a nice home with pleasant surroundings and not someone who paid much priority to the presence of intellect and societal position in a husband, the sudden shock that passed over me soon dissolved. I only wished her happiness in her new home at Kent.
The news of the matrimony had not quite grown old, when another letter, now from Miss Caroline Bingley reached Jane which informed her of their sudden decision to depart for London and of their intention to also spend the entire winter in town. The news of their departure had an immediate distressing effect on Jane. However, having suspected that it was not only the six-month long separation that bothered my sister, I instantly inquired about some further contents of the letter that had caused such terrible effect, upon which, she replied,
“Oh Lizzy, I’m afraid Mr. Bingley’s affections towards me had not entirely been absolute and that he holds some admiration towards the beauteous Miss Darcy; Miss Bingley’s description confirm it!”
“Or – it is what she wishes her brother would feel.”
“Dear Lizzy, I could not think her abominable enough to hold her accountable for such a contemptuous thing as this! She must not be so oblivious as to not observe the passions that Mr. Bingley and I share!”
“Yes, you’re truly correct. She’s no simpleton that her brother’s love for you would have escaped her notice, which is why she implored him to spend such a long period in town so as to drive him away from you, so long, that his feelings would grow insubstantial. It is her desperate desire to see her brother engaged with Miss Darcy as once there has been one intermarriage; it would only increase the chances of a second. But really, dear Jane, you cannot possibly imagine that just because Miss Bingley tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, that he has in any way forgotten his zealous affections towards you; his tender gestures towards you when you were sick, and the graces with which he attended you, can never say otherwise!”
“But if he does not return this winter, my choice would most definitely be lost. A million things can happen in six months!”
No matter how much I wished to drive such a horrible thought as this, I could not help but agree with Jane that such a long separation would definitely not be healthy for their relationship. And, even though, Jane expressed her optimism every now and then, the obvious anxiety and apprehension that seemed to enthrall her senses so intensely, could not escape my sight.
My mother’s brother, Mr. Gardiner and his wife visited us the following week. As I discussed Jane’s bothering anxiety with Mrs. Gardiner, she responded equally worried and proposed that perhaps a change of surrounding might soothe her spirits and thus invited Jane to visit them at their house in London. Following the invitation which was readily accepted, Jane departed for town and I found myself a tragic victim of eternal boredom.
However, such dullness was not continue for long as only the following week, I received a letter from Charlotte who requested me to visit her at house at Kent, along with her father, Sir William Lucas and sister, Maria. I was more than ready to accept the offer (anything to occupy my distressful mind) and soon left Longbourn, with promises to write to my father, for Kent.
The journey to Charlotte’s house was long, but very engaging. I often found myself lost in the panorama awaiting me across the window-pane- lakes, trees and vast grassy lands, breeding fresh, lively winds.
Charlotte’s house was comfortable indeed. It was small yet perfectly capable of serving the purpose of comfortably serving the two inhabitants. Surrounded with small gardens, it definitely was a most pleasant place to spend my time.
As we approached the gateway, Charlotte and Mr. Collins already stood awaiting us and warmly welcoming us, lead us inside. The inside was equally pleasant as the exterior and Charlotte had maintained the place very well, indeed.
During dinner, Mr. Collins informed us about Mr. Darcy’s arrival with his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam the following week. On Sunday, when we paid a visit to Lady Catherine De Bourgh (which was Mr. Collins occasional habit); it was very soon that we found ourselves in Mr. Darcy’s presence.
While Lady Catherine remained engrossed in her conversation with Mr. Darcy as it was her chief desire to get his daughter married to him and have the two estates joined, I engaged myself in a much pleasant discussion with Colonel Fitzwilliam. However, only a few moments had passed that Lady Catherine on whose intruding nature, it passed very irksome that any talk being exchanged between me and the colonel should escape her sharp ears, broke out,
“And what may you two be whispering about?”
“We were talking about music, Lady De Bourgh,” replied the cheerful Colonel.
“Of music! Then pray allow me to have a share in the conversation; it is of all subjects my favorite. If I had ever learnt, I am sure I would have grown into a great expert. And so would have Anne, if her health had allowed her to learn. How is Georgiana getting on, Darcy?”
Mr. Darcy replied with affectionate praise of his sister’s adeptness.
The rest of the evening passed in light conversation and as it began to grow dark; her ladyship’s carriage took all of us home.
The next morning as I was busy writing to Jane, while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone to the village, I was startled by a ring at the door, the definite hint of a visitor. Quickly putting away my half-finished letter, I proceeded towards the door and as it opened, to my utmost shock, I found Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only, walk inside.
Upon finding that there was no one else in the house, he spoke,
“I’m really sorry to have disturbed you, Miss Bennet; I had no knowledge that everyone else had departed for business.” Speaking so, he silently perched himself in a nearby sofa, gazing quietly out of the window, evidently musing.
When he spoke no word and the ensuing silence began to bother me heavily, I broke out,
“What a surprise it was that you all quitted Netherfield so suddenly, Mr. Darcy! I hope Mr. Bingley and his sisters were well when you left London?”
“Yes, they were – thank you”
“I believe Mr. Bingley has not much desire to return to Netherfield ever again?”
“I do not think so. He’s very well engaged here with his friends and family and does not have much chances of returning.”
Upon hearing such sorrowful news, I fell silent, partly because of the distress I now felt for Jane, and left Mr. Darcy the trouble to begin with a new subject.
“This house seems to be very comfortable. Lady Catherine, I believe, did quite much to it when Mr. Collins arrived at Hunsford.”
“Yes, I believe she did. She has been extremely generous to Mr. Collins.”
Suddenly, drawing his chair closer, he spoke with a desperate longing in his voice,
“Do you like the countryside, Miss Bennet?”
“Yes – yes,” I replied, a little taken aback by this strange question but equally amused, “the fresh air and energy feeds my spirits generously.”
Somehow, the remark seemed to please him a lot and as he drew himself back once again, the door opened and in came Charlotte and Maria came in, having returned from their shopping. Mr. Darcy immediately paid his apologies on intruding on me due to his oblivion, and after saying a few words, went away.
“Oh Eliza! What could he possibly mean by coming so suddenly? I must say, I think he might be in love with you!”
“Pray do not reach to such rapid conclusions. He
only sat here for half an hour and for much of time, uttered no word and remained absolutely silent.”
The reply seemed to sadden Charlotte’s sudden elation. Though they tried their best to reason his sudden calling but remained quite unsuccessful in doing so.
But the very reason why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage was even more confusing. It could not be for society as for the short ten minutes that he sat there, he never spoke at all and at the few instances that he did, it seemed more for the sake of propriety rather than for his own pleasure.
Chapter Seven: The unforeseen proposal
Odd it seemed to me that several times during my daily rambles, - not once or twice, but almost every time! I found Mr. Darcy walking close by. More odd it may seem the questions that he asked me during these sudden meetings – like how was I spending my time in Hunsford, whether I was finding it pleasing, and what did I think about Mr. and Mrs. Collins happiness as a couple.
I was employed one day, as I walked, in completing my letter to Jane, when instead of being again surprised by Mr. Darcy, I found Colonel Fitzwilliam walking by. Soon, we found ourselves engaged in a pleasant conversation,
“Are you definitely leaving Kent on Sunday?” I asked.
“Yes – if Darcy does not put off our departure once again. I follow his desires. He is always the one to arrange the business.”
“You seem to accompany Mr. Darcy everywhere; you must be very much attached to him.”
“Yes I am a dear friend of the family. You see, I am also joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy.”
“Oh really? Then, Miss Darcy is really a most lucky creature. Miss Bingley seems to be very fond of her. I suppose you know of Miss Bingley, she is Mr. Darcy’s friend’s sister.”
Confusion, Confession and Conviction Page 16