The horse approached then suddenly stopped—as along with Elizabeth’s breathing. The sun was blinding her, and she could see little else but a large, impressive shadow—a stallion and its master—but she did not need her eyes to recognise what her heart had already told her.
“Miss Bennet? Are you hurt?” The voice sent cold shivers along her skin.
He dismounted and walked towards them. He wore travelling clothes, and his hair was in slight disorder. He sweated from riding on a warm day, and his eyes—clear blue—rested on her face. She knew she should be furious with him, that she should despise him and ask him to leave them be. But her heart started to race as she angrily admitted to herself that she was happy to see him—that she had missed him. How could she be such a fool? She had no sense and no wit to feel that way, and most of all, she was betraying dear Jane, whose pain was all Mr. Darcy’s fault.
What was he doing there? She looked around for Mr. Bingley, but apparently, he was alone.
“Are any of you hurt?” he inquired further, his voice softened in concern—or so she believed. But how could she be sure? She had been wrong about him so many times before. Perhaps he was amused by their distress, just as he had been when Charlotte hurt her leg at Rosings. She felt her anger growing; he looked so calm, so serene as though he felt no blame, no shame for what he had done.
“My sister hurt her arm and her ankle,” she managed to reply at last.
“Have you sent for someone? Are you alone here?”
“Jane and Mary returned home to get the carriage,” she said coldly.
“But should you not have a doctor see to her?”
“Jane will fetch Mr. Jones—the apothecary—as soon as she returns with the carriage. We have no doctor here as we are but a small town with twenty-four families of little consequence,” she answered with a harshness that surprised her—as well as Darcy. Their eyes met and held briefly, and she could see he was disconcerted. But she cared little of his feelings; they meant nothing compared to Jane’s suffering. She averted her eyes from his as he spoke.
“Should I fetch Mr. Jones immediately? We would gain some time so that Miss Kitty can be taken care of sooner.”
Kitty was excited. “Oh yes, Mr. Darcy, please go! Please go and bring Mr. Jones! I do not want to die.”
A tentative smile twisted his lips, and his dimples appeared again while Elizabeth blushed furiously with her weakness.
“I am sure you will be fine, Miss Kitty; you have no reason to fear. Excuse me, ladies; I will return as soon as possible.”
He mounted and urged his horse to a gallop while Elizabeth followed him with an incredulous gaze. Why was he back in Hertfordshire? And why did he appear so eager to offer his help? What were his true intentions? And why was her silly heart still beating so wildly?
***
The next hours passed in a storm of events for Elizabeth. Mr. Bennet arrived with the carriage, two servants, and Jane. The information that Mr. Darcy had been there and had gone to fetch Mr. Jones surprised Mr. Bennet and made Jane pale and silent. As it was not necessary for her to go to Meryton, the eldest Miss Bennet followed the rest of her family back home.
Mrs. Bennet waited for them in the doorway, and she cried in despair on seeing her daughter injured. She blamed everyone for the tragedy—from the girls’ carelessness to Mr. Bennet’s lack of a second carriage. While the servants helped Kitty to her bedchamber—followed by Lydia who kept saying that Kitty should not have gone to Meryton without her—Mr. Bennet made a stern announcement.
“Mr. Jones will arrive soon. Mr. Darcy went to fetch him. Yes, Mr. Darcy seems to be in the neighbourhood again,” he confirmed to his astounded wife.
“Does that mean that Mr. Bingley has returned?” she inquired.
“If he had, you would be the first to know; since you have heard nothing of the kind, he most certainly has not,” Mr. Bennet answered sternly and left the house. Mrs. Bennet forgot to breathe; she fell on a chair then yelled at Hill to bring her smelling salts.
The apothecary came just after Kitty was changed and placed in bed. Mr. Darcy, however, was not to be seen, despite Mrs. Bennet’s loudly expressed desire and Jane’s silent hopes. He was the only one to offer information about Mr. Bingley, and he seemed unwilling to do so.
However, an hour later, Mr. Bennet received a note from the gentleman.
Mr. Bennet,
I hope Miss Kitty’s injuries are not of a worrisome nature and that Mr. Jones provides the care she needs. I am in the neighbourhood on business for two days, so please let me know if I may help in any way.
F. Darcy.
“How should I answer this, Lizzy?” Mr. Bennet asked his favourite daughter in the privacy of the library. “Should I invite him for a drink? Or ask him for dinner? How would your mother and sister take his presence?”
Little did Mr. Bennet know that such a gesture would trouble the very person whose council he had asked. Elizabeth struggled to keep her distress under good regulation while trying to answer in a reasonable manner.
“I believe you should thank him for his support of Kitty, but I fear his visit would trouble all of us, Papa. If he has good news about Mr. Bingley’s return, it would be most welcome. But if that were the case, he would have come to deliver the news himself, would you not agree? Besides, he must presume his presence is undesirable; otherwise, he would at least have come to greet us.”
She wondered whether her voice sounded as bitter and pained as she felt. Mr. Bennet looked at her carefully, weighing her words.
“You are right Lizzy,” he said, relieved. “I shall answer his note right away and nothing more. You are a very wise young woman,” he concluded, kissing her forehead.
Elizabeth attempted a smile. “No, I am not, Papa. I am quite foolish.” she replied in complete earnest.
***
Even without his presence, dinner was filled with conversation, debate, and questions about Mr. Darcy. The point of interest was the nature of his business in Hertfordshire. Was he there to give up Netherfield on his friend’s behalf? Had Mr. Bingley refused to come into the neighbourhood ever again?
Mrs. Bennet carried almost the entire conversation, but Jane’s silence was more eloquent. Elizabeth’s battle with herself was hard to bear; it was daunting to separate her own feelings from the sadness of Jane’s pain and even more difficult to appear composed and reasonable.
Night brought her no relief. Jane refused to speak of the matter and pretended to sleep, but Elizabeth heard her sigh countless times. Her own sleep was more of a torment; therefore, as soon as dawn appeared, she dressed and left the house. The air was chill and fresh, filled with the sound of birds, and a soft breeze tantalised the trees and bushes.
Her steps took her far from Longbourn; she forbade any thoughts to stir her mind and struggled to pay attention to nothing but the beauty of the countryside. Without noticing, she found herself at Oakham Mount and realised she had been walking for more than half an hour.
Only then did she stop, sit on the grass, and look around. The impressive view made her feel lonelier and weaker. She knew perfectly well where she was; still, she felt lost. She closed her eyes and lay on the grass. She remained there for a few moments—or was it hours?—until she was startled by the sound of a horse galloping nearby. She rose, wondering who might have business at such an early hour, when a figure appeared from behind the trees. The horse slowed, neighed, and then stopped. The rider hesitated only an instant before he dismounted and bowed to her.
“Miss Bennet…”
At last, Elizabeth spoke. “Mr. Darcy…”
Chapter Nineteen
Their silence lasted until it became awkward.
His presence overwhelmed her and—against her will—she was happy to see him. The feeling of joy brought up remorse and shame for still holding affection for the man. Elizabeth closed her eyes, hoping that, when she opened them again, he would be gone. But he was still there, looking at her.
“Miss Bennet, forgive me if
I have startled you. Please allow me to ask—is your sister well? Is she feeling better?”
“My sister? Which one, sir?”
“Miss Kitty. Her accident will pass without unpleasant consequences, I hope.”
They were within feet of each other. The blue of his eyes was as clear as the sky and even seemed to wear a smile. He appeared in good spirits. Of course, he was—he must be pleased for ruining several more lives for his pleasure. And she was such a simpleton that she still could not abandon her inclination towards him. When she responded, her resentful words and sharp voice expressed what was in her mind, not in her heart.
“Thank you for inquiring—as well as for your help yesterday. Kitty’s bruises will not last long. This sort of hurt is easily healed.”
Elizabeth hoped he could read the meaning behind her answer; the blue of his gaze darkened slightly, but nothing more. She continued, the torment growing inside her.
“I was surprised to see you yesterday, sir, and even more so today. I did not expect to see you in the neighbourhood ever again, especially without your friend, and I imagined you had left the county already.”
He looked puzzled, and after a brief moment, he answered, “I still have some unfinished business…”
“Of course! I cannot imagine anything would keep you here—especially without your friend—except your own business. I hope you conclude it soon. It must be very inconvenient to be forced to stay in a place you do not enjoy.”
He frowned. “I do not understand your meaning, Miss Bennet. I have always enjoyed Netherfield—and its surroundings.”
“Ah, yes, I remember. You were the one who recommended Netherfield to Mr. Bingley. I should guess then that he was the one who did not enjoy it—or perhaps his sisters. Otherwise, it is hard to imagine why a young gentleman would leave on such short notice and abandon a property he had just acquired.”
“Yes, well, Bingley decided to return to London. Sometimes men make decisions that might appear unexpected.”
“Or thoughtless,” she whispered, uncertain whether he heard her.
“Miss Bennet, I…” She watched his face carefully; there were some signs of uneasiness in his countenance, but he showed no intention of ending their encounter.
She felt her knees weaken and feared she would not be able to continue the conversation in a reasonable manner.
She struggled to reply calmly. “Sir, I must return home now. Please allow me to thank you once again for your help and support of Kitty. Have a good day, Mr. Darcy.”
“Please…I beg you to allow me a few more minutes. I shall not take advantage of your patience more than necessary.” His voice sounded grave, and curiosity changed her mind. What more could he possibly have to say?
“Miss Bennet, there is a subject of great delicacy that I must raise. However unpleasant it is for me, I believe it is my duty not to avoid it.”
“Yes?”
“May I inquire about the nature of your relationship with Mr. Wickham? I saw him visiting your family the day of the picnic, and I was told that many people in Meryton share a favourable opinion of him. I wish to…”
He was obviously embarrassed as he spoke, and she was astounded while listening. Wickham? Could that be his concern? Instead of being worried for Jane or apologising for his influence in Bingley’s decision to leave—or anything of the kind—he was preoccupied with Wickham? Could he be displeased—or even jealous—that his old acquaintance had become a favourite of the residents, unlike himself? Was his own pride the chief reason for his concern? Could his “business” be the shaming Mr. Wickham’s reputation? Was that the reason for his return? Her composure vanished, and her voice turned even colder.
“Mr. Wickham is a friend of our family, and we do share the same positive opinion of him. He is a gentleman with pleasant manners, amiable behaviour, and he made no secret of future plans to leave Meryton. The great misfortunes of his life—starting with your resentment and unfair ill-treatment—have not changed his character. Despite his lack of wealth and connections, he is still much admired, and any young lady would be happy to have his affection, even if her family should oppose it.”
The sharpness in her voice made him take a step back. He immediately turned pale and seemed unsteady on his feet while his shoulders lowered. His face was shadowed by heavy feelings she could not guess, and his eyes narrowed while he blinked repeatedly. When he finally replied, his voice was so low and cold that shivers shattered her body and her heart felt trapped in a hole of ice.
“Ever since I saw you at Rosings I felt that you were different from any other lady I have known. I have admired your strength and your wit, and I believed you to be not only one of the most charming and handsome ladies of my acquaintance but certainly one of the brightest persons that I have had the pleasure to know. I can see now that I was completely wrong on the second account. I am deeply angry with you for speaking of a matter about which you are completely oblivious and repeating the harmful gossip of a man you have barely known a fortnight. But I am also disappointed that you are like other young women who have fallen for Wickham’s questionable charms. ”
Her heart skipped a beat then started to race wildly; she was astonished and distrustful to hear him speak so openly of his admiration, as she was hurt and offended by his accusations.
“It is strange that you speak of admiration, Mr. Darcy, and a moment later you presume the worst in me. I have not repeated Mr. Wickham’s words to anyone but you, and I surely did not fall for his charms! How dare you presume that? But how could I know more if Mr. Wickham was the only one who trusted me enough to tell me of your past dealings, while you never wasted more than a few minutes to speak to anyone in our neighbourhood?”
“A gentleman does not speak of private matters with a lady who is not part of his family, and he certainly does not burden others with his problems! Such actions are to be reprimanded, not admired.”
“I am no fool, sir! I did not admire Mr. Wickham for that—and I did not trust his words until your heartless behaviour gave me a reason to believe him!”
“My heartless behaviour?” He was pacing around her, unable to calm himself, looking equally astonished, doubtful, hurt, and angry. She stood still, but only because she had no strength to move. Her mind and her soul were no different than his. His earlier words of admiration were long lost and drowned in the depths of their common turmoil.
“I am talking about your lack of feeling and consideration, which led you to destroy my sister’s happiness with just a few words! All that while we welcomed you into our family and my father had come to appreciate you!”
“I have done no such thing!”
“Do you deny that Mr. Bingley left Netherfield because of you? And his sisters, of course. But we both know that he values your opinion more, and he would not have made that decision without your approval!”
“Yes, I do deny it! I can take the blame for many things, but surely, I was not the reason for Bingley’s departure! Although, I admit I was relieved when he made that decision,” he whispered, as though speaking to himself. She did not fail to hear him, and her fury against his disdain and arrogance grew.
“Why, sir? Would you dare answer me? Why would you be relieved that my sister’s soul was broken with such cruelty? Would you feel better to know my sister is suffering as much as yours was? Is your pride more satisfied now? Are you pleased to see that both situations ended to your liking, despite the pain that others around you have to endure?”
He stopped and stared at her with a rage that threatened to burst upon her. He breathed deeply as though trying to regain composure before replying severely.
“I will allow no one to speak to me like that, Miss Bennet—no one in the world! You have no right to presume anything regarding my sister! Her situation was completely different than your sister’s. She did not know the affection and admiration of an honourable man; she was only deceived by a rascal whose main goal was to take revenge over me and grasp more und
eserved benefit than he had already received—a scoundrel who made my sister confuse genuine affection from childhood with love and attempted to ruin her for life.”
“I deeply apologise if my words in any way harmed Miss Darcy. That was not my intention, and I am pained to hear of her suffering. But why should I believe your words over Mr. Wickham’s? He told me the same story with a completely different meaning!”
Fury made him livid, and she watched him with great disturbance.
“You may choose to believe whomever you please, Miss Bennet! You may continue to blame me if that satisfies your own pride and gives you the pleasure you need to overcome your disappointment. But I must be allowed to speak the truth, no matter how much that might hurt you.”
“Then, by all means, do so—speak your truth, Mr. Darcy. But if you were indeed worried about our connection with Mr. Wickham, you should have asked about it that day when you saw him.”
He took a few steps to the right, turned, then moved to the left and finally stopped and spoke again.
“I shall not mention Wickham again; he is not worth my time, and I shall put no effort into convincing you what a poor excuse for a man he is. But you are correct: I should have spoken to Mr. Bennet that day. I did not because the others in our party were in a hurry to leave. And so was I.”
“Of course you were,” Elizabeth whispered to herself, smiling bitterly.
“But I planned to call on Mr. Bennet at the first opportunity. At the time, I did not suspect Bingley’s intention of departing for London the next day. He did so after all the discussion that followed the picnic. He felt overwhelmed by your mother’s insistence, as all of us were. After such a short acquaintance with your sister—whom he deeply admired and with good reason!—he felt trapped and was allowed no choice, no time or space to think, to understand his own feelings and wishes. That day at the picnic, all his fears were proved right. If you could put your own prejudice aside, even you could admit that I am not the one to blame. Those circumstances were simply unacceptable!”
“You are hasty in your judgments and accusations, Mr. Darcy! You have no respect for the people around you! My family has been nothing but amiable to you! My father showed you kindness and consideration, and my mother always tried to make you and Mr. Bingley feel welcome at Longbourn. Of what circumstances do you speak when you call them ‘unacceptable’?”
Meant to Be: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 22