For The Sake Of Her Happiness

by Marley Fulton

  The crimson seeping through her cheeks grew deeper and deeper still, as several other such instances began dawning upon her - instances that she never cared to pay much heed to, either. His gracious invitation for a dance, his awkward callings at the cottage, and the charming smile with which he bantered with her by the pianoforte.

  “Eliza…” Charlotte cleared her throat aloud, “thrice have I noticed a smile brushing past your lips, while you munch on nothing but peas. Had I known that peas were what you were after, I would not have subjected myself to the trouble of cooking so elaborate a meal, for you.”

  “I… I do apologise,” stuttered Elizabeth with an embarrassed frown. Truth be told, she had no appetite whatsoever, not even for peas. Ever since she chanced upon Mr. Darcy’ s journal the tightening knots in her stomach had left her with no inclination for food or socialising. And she would have skipped luncheon altogether had she not been told of the lengths her friend had gone to, to prepare these dishes for her. So, she decided to make an effort - only to be reminded that she was failing remarkably.

  “I have been mildly fatigued, that is all.”

  “Oh, are you unwell?” Charlotte leaned forth for a quick feel of her cheeks “Now that you mention it, I do notice how flushed your face is. But, you are not burning from a fever.” she announced with a straight face, “That said, there are not many reasons why a young woman would continue to be seated in front of her favourite meal, barely tasting a morsel of it while such a pretty shade of pinkness colours her cheeks. Which leads me to believe…”

  “Mrs. Collins!” Elizabeth gasped.

  “Yes,” she hummed, mistakenly holding Colonel Fitzwilliam responsible for the loss of her friend’s appetite and manners.

  The reality was, of course, something else altogether; and far more startling.

  “Well, Charlotte, you most certainly shall not believe any such thing!” Elizabeth put a swift end to those conjectures, her embarrassment giving way to a rising annoyance within. Annoyance with both, Charlotte for having caught her, and with herself for engaging in the silliness that led her to be caught.

  “Your sensibilities are above such childishness, are they not?” a stern voice of reason echoed by her ear. “Why participate in such frivolities then?”

  Perhaps, she could not overcome the surprise that a lady from a modest family such as herself could win over the attentions of a man who commanded great wealth and standing in society. Or maybe, it was the sheer astonishment from accomplishing the flattering feat of changing the opinions of a vain man.

  That said, a few profound wordings in his journal ought not to be enough to erase what she knew of him, otherwise. “No, it should not!”

  As the warm tinges of excitement ebbed away, her core was struck with an icy uncertainty, again. How could she ignore what he had done to Mr. Wickham? Or worse, to her own dear sister? How could she forget the darker truths behind his schemes, and how he had prided himself over its cruel results to Colonel Fitzwilliam? As if all that would not suffice, his disparaging remarks against Jane had never stopped threatening her peace since.

  “It was the lady. There were some grave doubts about her, I heard.”

  That night, Elizabeth spent more hours awake than asleep. The following morning, after a lengthy deliberation, she excused herself from the company of her friend and decided to return to the grove for a walk.

  All throughout, she stayed anxious, and understandably so. Yet, she carried along, a part of her conscience wanting her there, to finish seeking the answers she was meant to seek a day ago. A few heartfelt words in a journal that were accidentally stumbled upon midway, could not be allowed to hinder her quest!

  And just as suspected, Mr. Darcy was at the grove, seated at his cherished spot, the park bench.

  Her steps stalled, once the notion of speaking to him turned into a looming reality. And it took something out of many buried corners of courage thereafter for Elizabeth to be able to proceed on the path she could see herself taking.

  “Miss Bennet,” he stood to greet her, “a pleasure meeting you here, as always.”

  She immediately stole a few sly glances of his hands, taking note of the fact that he did not have the journal on him then. “Has he truly burnt it, as its words professed?” she wondered.

  It was when he cleared his throat, a few instants on, that Elizabeth realised he was still awaiting a response for his greeting. “Mr. Darcy,” she hurriedly smiled. Nice to meet you too.”

  Following a chivalrous gesture of his palm showing her the way, Darcy began strolling the pathways, alongside her.

  “Spring seems to be making its presence known,” Elizabeth blurted the first mundane observation that she could come up with.

  “Yes, it has been, Miss Bennet... for the past few days, actually.”

  “And… and the roses,” she added, realising it was the first time in all of their encounters, that she was the one displaying a more awkward disposition today, “are in full bloom too.”

  “That they are, ” nodded Darcy, masking his surprise at her choice of relatively unremarkable subjects this morning, which was quite unlike the Miss Bennett he knew. At the start, it only gladdened him that she was speaking at all; seeing how he had been bearing the sole burden of broaching conversations during their strolls lately. However, when her preferred topics continued to describe the woods, the weather and its effect on the wisterias, Darcy wondered at length if her mind was elsewhere. “It most definitely is all very beauteous, but,” his stride slowed, just before she was to begin remarking on yet another aspect of the orchard, “I must say this, Miss. Bennet… you do not sound like yourself this morning. Is something the matter?”

  “Well, there is,” an exasperated confession slipped her lips, bringing their walk to a sudden halt. She watched on, as the curiosity on his frown grew, her fingers nervously intertwining within her palms. “Mr. Darcy, forgive my impertinence, but I sense you are pleased with Mr. Bingley’s departure from Netherfield. Am I wrong in presuming that you disapproved of his admirations for my sister?”

  She could hear her tone turn perceivably unfriendly “And may I ask what faults do you find in Jane, who is truly the kindest and most generous person in the world?”

  The abruptness in her tone wiped his thoughts blank, and Darcy needed a moment to be able to phrase an answer to the unexpected interrogation. “I found no particular fault in Miss Bennet.”

  “Please be honest, Mr. Darcy,” she clutched her fingers firmly to stop them from wringing themselves into knots. “I would have greater appreciation for the fairness in an unpleasant answer than I would for the pretense in a pleasant one.”

  “I have no intention to lie to you, Miss Bennet. Disguise of any sort is a trait I abhor.”

  “You abhor disguise?” she scoffed in short sharp breaths. It was plain for Elizabeth to see that her demeanour was offending him, but she could not find it in her to care. “Then you must have no issue admitting that you had some part in separating Mr. Bingley from Jane?”

  “I admit it.”

  “But, why?” She asked, aggrieved.

  Darcy held his tongue until he could limit the impulse to say something he must not.

  “Speak plainly, sir.”

  “I tried to do what was best for my friend.”

  She rolled her eyes in disdain, “And why was it best to separate him from the woman he admired? Because of her lack of fortune?”

  “No, but because I noticed that while Miss Bennet welcomed Bingley’s company, she did not return his affections genuinely, ” his stare momentarily wavered. “I apologise if it is not what you hoped to learn, but it is what I honestly believed.”

  Having finally borne witness to his ignorant remarks about her sister, Elizabeth was sorely tempted to yield to her mounting indignation. True, she had asked for him to speak without pretense; but that did not imply she would forgive Mr. Darcy for bringing harm upon the name and character of her sister amongst society! “You might
have been honest in your beliefs – but you were utterly wrong, sir! I assure you, my sister shared Mr. Bingley’s feelings and has suffered deeply ever since his unexplained departure.” Her voice quivered despite a furious attempt to mask the extent of her unrest from him, “you should know that you had an ungenerous contribution in separating two people who could have been truly happy together. You ruined their chances at happiness, maybe forever.”

  The fringes of her eyelashes were beginning to mist, and before the tears would betray her emotions, she turned around, beginning to make her hurried way back to the cottage.

  Quite shaken by all that he had seen and heard, it was a few empty blinks before Darcy could react. “Miss Bennet,” he called, frantically. When that attempt showed no sign of slowing her steps, he rushed forth. “Miss Bennet, please listen to what I have to say.”

  He repeated his request a few times and since that would not help either, he finally decided to intrude on her path, directly.

  “Pray, please do halt - if only for a short while. And hear me out, Miss Bennet.”

  “Well, Mr. Darcy,” she smirked, “I shall not be told to stand by and listen to my sister being slighted!”

  “But, you must allow me a chance to explain myself.”

  “I must?” her eyes gleamed from flickers of ire.

  “Yes. If the wrong has to be undone,” he insisted, “for the sake of your sister.”

  Her pace lulled to a gradual halt. “For the sake of your sister.” The message and the manner in which it was stated, had pinned her attention so firmly that she could not shake it off and walk away if she tried. She spared him a stare, inadvertently searching for signs of regret on his countenance while expecting to find none at all. “What is it then that you have to say in defense of your actions, Mr. Darcy?”

  Drawing in a deep breath, he ruminated on his answers shortly, “It was a few days after my arrival in Longbourn when I noticed, as had others, that Bingley’s partiality towards Miss Bennet swiftly intensified into profound fondness for her. As a dear friend, I have been with him for years, and have often witnessed him fall in and out of love. This instance was different and it led me to conclude that his heart was earnestly devoted to her.

  “Then, at the ball where we danced together, I chanced upon an incidental remark by Sir William Lucas, referring to Miss Bennet and Bingley as a couple, whose marriage was anticipated to take place soon.” A soft sigh emerged from his throat, “My concern only grew, whenever I observed your sister thereon - all I saw was a general affability towards him. There was no sign of attraction, or of a special interest reserved for Bingley.”

  “Jane possesses an extremely polite and civil disposition, she would never express either her thoughts or her wishes candidly. Not even to me!” Elizabeth steadied her tone, as she put right whatever ill-informed notions he had of her sister. “But, Lord yes, she harboured great fondness for him.”

  “If you are confident in your assessment of your sister’s sentiments, then I admit, I have arrived at an inaccurate conclusion. I place greater value on your judgement over mine, since you know her better.” His gaze mellowed, “If so, I have erroneously led her to distress - your displeasure against me is warranted.”

  Unable to find a single expression to describe her feelings just then and amazed that he managed an apology at all, Elizabeth responded with a nod and nothing further - though, the fretfulness in her manner did gradually ease.

  “That said, Miss Bennet, I have no hesitation in affirming that the demeanour of your sister remained thoroughly poised around Bingley throughout. Why, the keenest observer would have deduced her to be a lady, who was unsusceptible to intense emotions of the heart.” Darcy shrugged, “True, I might have been wrong in my conclusions, but be assured that it was not wrongfully intended, and was not driven by prejudice.”

  “Jane ought to display her sentiments plainly, so as to encourage Bingley further.”

  Elizabeth recalled Charlotte’s advice at Longbourn, and how remarkably similar the message in Mr. Darcy’ s words echoed to her friend’s perceptions about Jane!

  Regardless, she was reluctant to give him the benefit of the doubt so readily, and chose to keep those notions to herself.

  “Since you have asked for my honesty, I confess, there is another cause for my disapproval of this wedding, ” he continued. “Whatever the circumstances of one’s family, I believe they must conduct themselves with decorum. From what I have observed, I shall not hesitate to say that this has not been the case with your mother, your three sisters and at times, your father too. You must be aware that these opinions are not mine alone.”

  An expression of utter shock diffused over her features, as the ripples of fretfulness that had barely settled were shaken, more violently than even before, by all that she just heard. While she had been gracious enough to halt her steps and offer him a chance to explain his side of the story, he had used the opportunity, true to his conceited self, to mortify the members of her family further.

  “How kind of you to enlighten me on your frank views of them,” scoffed Elizabeth, averting her glare lest she said something she might forever regret.

  Darcy laid his eyes on her distressed features with tenderness, “I did not wish to cause you grief with such remarks. If it is of any comfort, you and your elder sister, have always carried yourselves in an agreeable fashion. That alone is a fitting testament to your wisdom.”

  His admiration of her comportment, and that of her sister’s, was noted. But, it was no remarkable consolation at this point, and Elizabeth continued to remain indignant. “What did you tell Mr. Bingley then?”

  “Following the incidents at the Netherfield ball, I was quite certain that I wished to save Bingley from what appeared to be an ill-suited alliance. When he left for London, he had every intention of returning to Netherfield soon. However, on learning that Bingley’s sisters shared my apprehensions, we decided to join him at London promptly, with the sole purpose of educating him on the disadvantages of such an alliance. And I did just that, with the sincerity of a true friend, ” he exhaled mildly.

  “While I do believe my reproach might have deterred his resolve, it could not have stopped a wedding altogether, if we were not so convinced of your sister’s indifference to him. Bingley did have faith in her affection for him, but he does place great merit on my opinions - far greater than on his own. Thus swayed, Bingley presumed he had mistaken your sister’s intentions and followed our counsel against returning to Hertfordshire. As a well-wisher of his, I am burdened with no guilt for having done what I did until then. However,” his lips tautened into a grim line, “there is one particular behaviour of mine that does warrant censure, and it is something I am not very proud of. I acted beneath my principles, and agreed to go along with Bingley’s sisters in hiding from him, the knowledge that your sister was in London, all this time. Why, he still remains uninformed about it. This deceit, this sort of behaviour is unlike me. But when I observed that my friend’s feelings for her had not abated, I hardly hesitated in participating in such a scheme for the sake of his well-being, unaware of the despair your sister has been through, and never intending to put her through such. You might not agree with my motives, but they are mine, they are honest, and other than a final apology I have nothing further to say on the matter.”

  “Oh, I see!” Elizabeth smirked in utter disbelief, at his candour in professing his design that caused the separation of two lovers. Familiar with his ways, she ought not to feel so alarmed with every fresh disclosure she was witness to. Yet, she did, for whatever reasons that remained unknown to her.

  “I concede, I was wrong Miss Bennet, in my surmise of your sister’s sentiments,” he tilted his head, regret softening his sharp features. “I give you my word that I shall make amends for it at the very first permissible opportunity, by divulging to Bingley my part in the ploy, and elaborating how my judgement of your sister has been erroneous.”

  Still reeling from an excess
of candid admissions, Elizabeth was unwilling to find it in her heart to pardon his transgressions right away. Regardless, on his repeated pressing for an answer, she nodded in acknowledgement, before excusing herself to leave for the cottage, exhausted and craving solitude once again.

  Relentless recollections of each phrase from Mr. Darcy’s disclosures and repeated perusal of all their possible underlying tones was a tiresome exercise in itself. It did not help that she was compelled to keep an air of cheerfulness about her for the rest of the day, so as to not rouse the unwanted suspicion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins.

  However, it was not long before sundown, when she sat back on a chair, gazing out of the bedroom window at the lulling lilac streaks of the evening sky when she arrived at the eventual surmise that it was not an encounter entirely in vain. And with some of her sensibilities now regrouped, she was able to see better reason in certain decisions made by Mr. Darcy than when he had first divulged it to her.

  His surmise of Jane could not be regarded with disdain, she realised, when Charlotte, who was a closer friend of the family, had felt quite the same. Neither could she deny in all earnest that her sister was too demure, at times, to her own detriment.

  As for the issues concerning her own family, the matter was slightly more troubling.

  For Mr. Darcy could hardly be blamed in pointing out the lack of decorum amongst certain members of her family. That he had plainly said so wounded her vanity and provoked her to counter it. But her own assessment of her mother and sisters was no different, often embarrassed herself by their lack of propriety in the presence of company.

  How shameful indeed, that their poor conduct had very nearly cost Jane a happy future; and maybe it still had. She mulled things over while her fingers wistfully playing with the fringes of her neckline. Mr. Darcy had assured her that he would speak to Mr. Bingley about Jane, and somehow, she expected him to stay true to his word.

  Elizabeth looked on at the peaceful sight of the sun laying down to rest beneath the horizon, and it brought a sense of restfulness in her own spirits too. “There might yet be hope for a happy ending to this tale.”