When Mr. Darcy Met Lizzy

by Mary-Anne Seaton

  This incited some energy into Elizabeth for she threw her reply at him scathingly.

  “And of your infliction! You have reduced him to his present state of poverty- comparative poverty. You have withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed for him. You have deprived the best years of his life of that independence which was no less his due than his desert. You have done all this! And yet you can treat the mention of his misfortune with contempt and ridicule.”

  In the face of so much scorn, Darcy could not remain forever calm. He walked to her in agitation to stand directly in front of her.

  “And this is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully, Miss Bennet. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed!”

  The haughty pride in her eyes informed him that perhaps, she was hurt by his bold analysis of his family and this hurt him such that he began to walk about the room before he continued.

  “But perhaps, these offenses might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by reason, by reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”

  Her reply stopped his progress across the room.

  “You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner. You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.”

  His incredulity was complete; he was now certain that she had always held him in the highest contempt but she had more to say-

  “From the very beginning; from the first moment, I may almost say of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”

  He could not allow her to carry on such vilification of his character to his face. It hurt beyond anything that mere words could describe. His heart was torn into pieces and so was his pride.

  “You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

  His heart on the floor beneath Elizabeth’s feet, he left the room. There was nothing else to be said.

  She had said it all.

  Chapter Twenty

  Fitzwilliam Darcy remembered the last time that he cried as vividly as he knew his name. Then, he was seven years old only. His mother had been violently ill with cold and she was in such a danger as for the doctor to declare her ‘to die in all likelihood.”

  Love for his mother had driven him to the chapel to pray in a private room and there, he had fallen asleep. Nobody knew of his presence in the room and he was locked therein for the whole night. When he awoke in the middle of the night to discover himself locked up in the chapel, he had banged on the door till the flesh on his knuckles wore off, but alas the chapel was too far off from any living quarters to ensure that he was heard. All his fears for his mother and of the dark consolidated in his chest and he had cried the night away. His sobs were his rescue, for the search party, led by his own father, had found him close to dawn.

  His father had looked more embarrassed to find his son crying than locked up in the chapel. With a grave look, he had carried him on his shoulder into the manor where he gave him such grave letdown for disgracing him by crying that his young son never forgot. There never was any situation, thereafter, that would ever necessitate the affair of tears.

  The son was now all grown and inherited his late father’s legacy. Today, he remembered that day because the feelings in his chest sought release in tears, but only the recollection of that day, so vivid stopped the flow. Darcy was now in his room, unable to attend dinner. He was still dumbfounded with the hatred that had spewed forth from Elizabeth’s mouth- he had no inkling how much she detested him and how low he was in her opinion. He, who was willing to neglect her philandering to make a proposal to her (indeed, he had thought she would think this highly in his favour) was the one who had been upbraided for his immoral conducts. The irony was a potion too bitter to swallow.

  In this state, did Colonel Fitzwilliam come upon him and alarmed- for he had never seen his cousin so miserable, he sought to comfort him by ringing for spirits and offering a listening ear. Perhaps, it was the spirits or the pathetic murmuring of Fitzwilliam, but Darcy who never had felt the need to share his burden with a living soul, divulged all that burdened him to his cousin. To his credit, the other Fitzwilliam was most attentive and appropriately sympathetic. When Darcy was done, he spoke to him most candidly.

  “I know, dear cousin, that it might be too soon to consider anything Miss Bennet said in a light other than the injustice of it all to your person, but I want you to dwell upon her words carefully when and where you—”

  Seeing that Darcy would have made an objection, Fitzwilliam got the better of him by raising a hand in objection.

  “Aye, I do know you to be none of the accusations levied against your character, but think- she must have a basis for them all and only this I desire of you- to look into the credibility of her accusations of your character. As for the other accusations, I say it would be the greatest injustice to leave her off with such impressions about her sister and Wickham particularly. I am afraid that I may have fuelled her deductions as regard her sister for we discussed the issue only this morning while we took a turn in the park without the least intelligence on my part that it was her sister I spoke to her about- for in truth, I know not who the object of our discourse was when you informed me about it on our way thither here.”

  Darcy could now reckon from whence Elizabeth obtained accurate intelligence about his involvement in Bingley’s sudden quit of Netherfield. He had told Fitzwilliam of the affair but without reference to the lady or her family. No doubt, his cousin could not know that she was related to Elizabeth and related the whole story to her from which Elizabeth had formed her opinions. Darcy could not find it in him to be angry at his cousin; however, his cousin had more to say.

  “Do not also forget that I am privy to Wickham’s treachery and I know for certain that you have been on his tail, gaining intelligence by the consultation with a hired hand on his whereabouts for you still fear of his designs on your sister. I am of the opinion that you explain all these to Miss Elizabeth.”

  Perhaps in Elizabeth’s accusations tonight, that concerning Wickham was the most painful. He, who had been at the receiving end of the man’s cunningness and bitterness, was found blameworthy for only conjectures, and lies which Wickham had spread. Still untrusting of the man’s motives, he still was such that his constant visits to the tavern at Hertfordshire were all in attribution to this mistrust. Indeed, he didn’t think it past Wickham to in his absence, make an attempt concerning Georgina once again. In the least, he had thought Elizabeth capable of withholding all judgement till she heard his side also- he had no idea of her bitter prejudice against him.

  “What good will that do?” Darcy asked. “She never will believe me.”

  “Leave that to her sensibility to judge,” Fitzwilliam replied. “And I daresay t
hat despite her ill judgement in this case, Miss Elizabeth has a good head on her pretty shoulders.”

  That said, Fitzwilliam gave his cousin a slap on the back and walked out of the room leaving Darcy to dwell upon his words.

  Hours later, found Darcy writing a very long letter. In the letter, he poured his soul out once more as he could for the last time. Despite the hurtful words that Elizabeth hurled at him, he knew not how he could write to her, ever of his pride forgotten, in a final quest to earn her favour. Though this quest he knew to be impossible, he rested in the knowledge that at least, he might be exonerated in her eyes in some account.

  Even he did not know it then, but her words had touched a part of him that would never remain the same for, indeed, pride only needed the affection of a person and the censure of such person to redeem itself in the eyes of the world.

  ****

  Elizabeth was absolutely ashamed of herself. Twice reading Darcy’s letter as she walked aimlessly around the park was enough mortification for her despicable behaviour to last her a life time of mortification. At first, she had pronounced the words in the letter a lie; the inconsequential talk of a man with a hurt pride- she never knew how much of a fool she was. Another careful reading of the letter, however, had revealed to her the sincerity of the author and impacted on her all she had been hitherto too blind to see. She could not believe the extent of her prejudice, absurdity and blind contempt with which she had held Mr. Darcy. He had met her this morning in the park again, despite her attempts to avoid him. Composed, he given her the envelope holding the letter, but his composure did nothing to hide the dullness of his eyes. To imagine the pain that she must have given him now brought tears to her eyes.

  “How despicably I have acted!” she lamented in self censure. “I, who have prided myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! Who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or blameable mistrust! How humiliating is this discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind! But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either was concerned. Till this moment, I never knew myself.”

  In his letter, he had taken great care to explain the details of Jane and Bingley’s affair along with that of Wickham. His description of Jane’s indifference to his friend was undeniable. Even Charlotte had made the same complaint and bid her to encourage Jane to show more interest in the man so as to encourage and not subject him to dissuasion. Mr. Darcy also excused his behaviour on account of the behaviour of her family members and therein, she was mortified beyond words, but equally irrefutable were the words with which he described her family members, especially her mother and two youngest sisters.

  As for Wickham, her shame knew no bounds. She had judged so wrongly. She could scarcely believe the man she knew to be all charm and smiles to be any who could behave abominably towards his benefactor’s daughter by eloping with her in a hope of having her dowry of thirty thousand pounds. However, the story held some creditability because she now remembered Wickham’s quickness to attend his favours to Miss King when she inherited ten thousand pounds.

  Elizabeth grieved that her better judgement had so failed her; causing her to blame the wrong man and scorn his professions of love.

  After long hours of rambling around the park, she remembered that he had said nothing about the presumed vice which she fancied that had coloured his judgement against her. Not one word had he said as regards meeting her in the tavern at Meryton. Renewed shame filled her and she hurried home at last thinking of a way to see him, though she knew not what she must say to him. Back home, however, she met with the news that the gentlemen had left Rosings. She needed no fortune teller to inform her that there was no likelihood that she might ever encounter Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy again.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Summer was in all its glory in Derbyshire. It enchanted the trees and put a sort of liveliness upon the houses. The sun shone off the roofs and the people delighted themselves in the season by taking a walk in the park, riding on their horses, calling on neighbours or more daringly, taking a tour of pleasure around the city.

  Fitzwilliam Darcy observed everywhere and everyone upon the streets as his carriage passed on its way to Pemberley. It was indeed a long time that he was home. His arrival would be highly unpremeditated he knew, but he hoped that it would not be unwelcomed. He looked forward to seeing his housekeeper and every other person in his employ. The days were long since he came to his home and this time, he hoped he would stay longer than he previously had. These days, he reflected with a bit of melancholy, he was more possessed of a strong attachment for everything that dictated a kind of permanence such that he wondered at the feeling. Not so far off a reason for this feeling was a need to give Georgina some sort of stability as opposed to her constant upheaval from place to place. He would dearly love to be a better brother by his sister and the first step towards achieving this feat would be to care for her convenience like he had never before done.

  Himself, his sister and his visitors: the Bingleys and the Hursts, were intended to arrive at Pemberley on the morrow, but business with his steward had necessitated his own arrival to-day. As the carriage pulled into the grounds, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from thinking that Pemberley might now have a mistress if things had settled differently those months ago. With firmness of mind, he ordered his mind not to dwell on the past. He was on the ground and approaching the manor with this injunction on his mind and as thus, thought it a trick of his disobedient mind that he conjured Elizabeth right in front of him- within twenty yards no less.

  His deprived gaze went instantly to her face and he could feel the betrayal of his heart in the increase in its rhythm. That he should see her again on his grounds just when he fancied that he could think about her without a hurt in his breast was something he did not understand. For a moment, he fancied that perhaps, she had come to see him for, of course, she knew where he lived. However, the thought was short-lived as he remembered her distaste of him. His steps halted completely as her eyes met his across the distance. Her cheeks coloured and he could imagine that his did too. Recovering himself, he resumed the walk that would take him to her.

  Elizabeth was in the company of three people- one was known to him; his gardener, and it was obvious that the man was showing them the gardens of Pemberley estates. The other two were unknown to him- a gentleman and a lady who had stopped on coming upon his sight. The curiosity upon their faces indicated that they knew him, not too, but knew of him. He came as close to Elizabeth as he dared and ventured to ask about her family. She answered in a voice akin to docility that he knew was far from her. This so disconcerted him that he scarcely could recollect what he said to her, thereafter, before acknowledging her companions with a slight bow and turning away.

  When he reached inside the house, Mrs. Reynolds, his housekeeper in the most pleasant surprise welcomed him home with bountiful smiles. She then apprised him on the guests who had come to tour on his property.

  “The gentleman and lady applied to me directly to see the beauty of Pemberley and this morning, they came with their niece. They are taking a pleasure tour around and thought it would not be complete without seeing Pemberley. They are such nice couple too and the niece claims a previous acquaintance with my master,” Mrs. Reynolds said.

  Thinking Mrs. Reynolds could only be mistaken, he turned away. The gentleman and lady were looking so respectable and well bred that they could be no relation of the Bennets and this he surmised from all the accounts of her family connection that he had heard from Caroline Bingley. That gave him a little pause; Caroline Bingley was not a veritable source of any intelligence whatsoever. On a moment of decision, he turned for the door to go in search of the party. He found them comin
g from the river towards the house and he could construe that their tour was over. The man and his wife were a little behind and Elizabeth ahead. The distance separating them was covered in no time and he fancied that he met her with more composure than the last.

  “Your grounds are absolutely delightful and the sight is such a charming one to please the eyes,” said she to him politely when they stood together admiring the view.

  Her abrupt stop informed him that she would have said more, but something halted her speech. He watched her discretely to see how she coloured and he wondered if she was embarrassed to comment about his home. Suddenly, he realized that she was in all likelihood thinking of his proposal; to save her this embarrassment of an awkward silence, he proceeded to ask of her the reason he sought them out.

  “Would you be so kind to introduce your companions to me?” he asked her.

  Her surprise at his civility was ever increasing and apparent, yet he could not tell her that it was she who thought him to be so. She however, turned to her companions and introduced them just as the housekeeper had maintained. He was doubly surprised at their manners and civility and caught Elizabeth’s sly look at him. Mr. Gardiner was a pleasant sort of man that were it not for the direct introductions, he would still have doubted that he was related to Mrs. Bennet. He immediately liked the man and they talked at great length about his estates, the latter professing how much the grounds were well kept and what beautiful scenery it would make during the winter. During the discourse, he noticed how well Elizabeth paid them both attention and he had the grace to be embarrassed for himself, albeit inwardly. No doubt, she remembered his abuse of her family and now gloated in the perfect mannerisms of her aunt and uncle.

  Mr. Gardiner expressed his delight at the river and the good trout he noticed therein. Darcy wasted no time in asking him to come thither to Pemberley to fish at his leisure.