Meant to Be: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Andreea Catana

  “Your father is a man worthy of being admired, and I enjoyed his company as much as yours or Miss Bennet’s. But the positive traits of some of the family’s members does not compensate for the faults of the others! We both know the reason for your mother’s efforts to make Bingley feel welcome…”

  “People are not perfect, Mr. Darcy! Except you, of course,” she replied with bitter mockery.

  “I am not perfect—far from it! But I cannot pretend to ignore a complete lack of decorum and improper behaviour when I see it—nor could Bingley or his sisters! Besides, you did the same, Miss Bennet! At Rosings, when Lady Catherine’s manners were offensive to you, you did not hesitate to answer quite harshly. You took pride in your frankness, and we called you courageous for that. When I do the same with your mother or younger sisters, your accusations against me are most severe!”

  Elizabeth’s eyes burned with tears. Her mind was too troubled to think properly, but she was certain he could not be right! Surely, the two situations were not the same!

  “I see—so this is the way you take revenge on your aunt’s behalf? By separating Mr. Bingley from my sister for a fault that was not hers?”

  “I shall not even attempt to answer that, as I am sure not even you can believe such an accusation, Miss Bennet. But I will take the blame you want to put on my shoulders if that will remedy some of my wrongs. I admit I deserve it. I, too, accused you of untrue things at the Rosings ball.”

  That memory troubled her even more; it was only three months past, but it seemed a lifetime.

  “I only speak of what I believe to be true in the present, Mr. Darcy. I do not hold you accountable for the past but for your statement that you were relieved at Mr. Bingley’s departure!”

  ”Perhaps I should have refrained from saying that, but I did not wish to deceive you. Disguise of any sort is my abhorrence! I had motives enough for my opinion and my actions. The main reason for Bingley’s decision was indeed related to Miss Bennet. Bingley was uncertain of her feelings for him. He believed she received his attentions but did not entirely reciprocate them. He feared Miss Bennet was pushed to accept his interest by your mother more than by her own heart.”

  “How could he be uncertain? What proofs did he require? My sister is too restrained to show her preference openly—unlike Miss Bingley. Do you think Jane should have behaved towards Mr. Bingley as Miss Bingley does with you?”

  His face coloured slightly. “Miss Elizabeth, Miss Bingley’s behaviour matters little to me—and I do disapprove of it quite frequently. But now we speak of Bingley.”

  “But surely you cannot deny that you had some influence in his leaving! He would not have done so without your approval!”

  “I have no wish to deny it! Bingley asked my opinion in a matter that worried him the most, and I was compelled to speak the truth! I, too, felt that Miss Bennet’s inclination for him was not as strong as his. I found it unfair for him to be trapped in a marriage where he would have given so much and received so little. Your family’s situation, your mother and youngest sisters’ behaviour, the unequal affection, everything was unfavourable to my friend, and it was only natural for his sisters and me to act for his benefit.”

  Elizabeth blushed with mortification. Each of his words cut her heart, and the unjust opinion of Jane’s feelings was balanced by the truth of his other accusations. She bit her lip, hoping the pain would stop the storm of thoughts in her mind, but stopping her tears was impossible.

  “You all should rejoice in your success, sir. You completely misjudged Jane’s feelings and took as indifference her affection, which was as deep and strong as it was genuine. I have no doubt that you have ruined not just my sister’s felicity but also Mr. Bingley’s. Let this be his punishment. I hope and pray that my sister will one day find a gentleman more aware of her excellent character and more worthy of her affection. But I am certain Mr. Bingley will soon come to regrets his loss, and I hope you and his sisters will be there to witness his regrets! God Bless you, Mr. Darcy,” she ended, fighting the lump in her throat as she hastened away from him.

  She heard him following her then calling her name. His voice was filled with sorrow and despair—or so she thought. But she could not trust her heart or her mind, her sense or her sensibility where he was concerned, so she stopped without turning around as she answered.

  “Mr. Darcy, please let me leave. Be gentleman enough not to hurt me more with your pretended explanations of a painful situation. Please do not make me regret even more the happenstance of meeting you. I wish I had never gone to Kent…” she whispered.

  Her words sounded as strong as a thunder, and the wind spread them around. She knew she could never take them back.

  A deep silence held her. He said nothing more, and yet she could not leave. Finally, his response came: calm, composed, and devastating.

  “Visiting Lady Catherine at that time of the year and meeting you was one of the most fortunate coincidences of my life. Since then, my heart and mind have not been the same. The recollection of our short time together kept me awake many nights, and I convinced Bingley to lease Netherfield mostly for its closeness to you. During my stay there, each of our encounters enchanted me and brought me new hope, although I was not even certain of my desires. I am well aware of the differences between our families, and everything I said in regard to Bingley applies even more so to me. And yet, that was not enough to keep me away as long as I had reason to believe you were not indifferent to me. Now I see I was wrong; it was perhaps my pride and arrogance that made me assume it was more and observe some inclination on your part that did not really exist. From this moment on—as you said earlier—there is nothing that could possibly keep me in the neighbourhood a moment longer, so I shall leave and promise never to bother you again.”

  Elizabeth listened but could not truly understand. What did he mean? Surely, that could not be true. Her mind refused to comprehend while her soul was broken in pieces that cut her heart. She slowly turned back to face him, but he was already leaving.

  “Mr. Darcy…” she called, unsure of what she wanted to say or whether her weak voice even reached him. He stopped for an instant but never turned to her again. He mounted, and the sound of galloping hoof beats was all that remained.

  Her tears fell, clouding the sight of his escape. Her strength left her, and she leant against a tree then slid to the grass. Only then did she realise how ugly the view was from Oakham Mount.

  ***

  Elizabeth returned home in a state of deep turmoil, walking absently and oblivious to everything around her. Darcy’s words stirred her mind, just as her feelings stirred her heart.

  She could barely think of it and struggled to understand it properly. The reason for Mr. Darcy’s presence in Hertfordshire remained a mystery, but the discovery she had made during their heated argument was as tormenting as it was hard to believe or admit. And yet, little misunderstanding was possible. Through severe statements and disapproving expressions, Mr. Darcy had confessed that he admired her and had thought of her since they were in Kent. He was certainly not as indifferent to her as she had believed. He had admired her, and she had not even noticed; now, knowing she had surely lost his good opinion, a sense of cold loneliness seized her. His blue eyes coloured differently as he spoke to her, and the shadows that dimmed their brightness still made her shiver.

  His harsh opinion of her family pained her; he was assuming and unfair! His pride blinded him! How dare he compare her responses to Lady Catherine to his haughty reactions to her mother? Surely, that was absurd! And his careless, presumptuous speculation about Jane’s indifference towards Mr. Bingley was unacceptable. He had no right to interfere in the concerns of other people’s hearts and lives—not even his friend’s! But then again, what a fool Mr. Bingley must be to doubt Jane. How could he not recognize the affection of a woman he pretended to admire? He was as guilty as Mr. Darcy was in causing Jane's torment—perhaps even more so!

  Darcy’s careless admissio
n of his presumption against Jane made her as angry as her own haste in accusing him of more than it was. His blame was great, but not as great as she imagined. He was as wrong in misjudging Jane’s feelings for Mr. Bingley as Elizabeth was in misjudging his feelings for her. And as her steps took her away from him and the minutes passed, he was likely running away from Hertfordshire—and from her—and Elizabeth realised that she had also misunderstood her own feelings. This realisation made her pause as Elizabeth acknowledged the tears falling down her cheeks.

  Mr. Darcy had held a strange fascination for her since she had first seen him at Rosings Park; of course, his behaviour did not invite affection, but the feeling that there was something more first intrigued her then slowly grew into something else. Now that she knew what she had felt, it was too late. The truth that she had been too blind to see was now useless.

  I cannot love Mr. Darcy—not now, not ever! I cannot and should not! Elizabeth’s thoughts cried loudly in her mind. She had never before fantasized herself falling in love with a gentleman, and now she did, right after he had disappeared from her life.

  For that entire day, she carried all the distress in burdening secrecy, as she did not dare speak to anyone of the strange meeting. At dinner, Mr. Bennet informed the family that he received a note from Mr. Darcy, expressing regret that he had no chance to make his farewell personally before he left the neighbourhood. Mrs. Bennet immediately accused him of purposely not calling on them while the youngest girls were relived at not having to bear Mr. Darcy’s aloof, severe presence once again. The eldest Miss Bennets said nothing on the matter and remained silent for the entire evening, each for her own reasons.

  Chapter Twenty

  For Elizabeth, the following week at Longbourn passed slowly. Sleep almost entirely evaded her as her thoughts returned again and again to Oakham Mount and her memories of a painful argument that would not vanish.

  The meaning of Darcy’s words seemed to change at each recollection, and she wondered and doubted her own understanding. To all that was added her sorrow for Jane’s obvious pain and her own curiosity about the truth behind Mr. Wickham’s words. Darcy said little, but his anger and his harsh accusations against Wickham—and even against herself for taking his side—were still vivid and fierce. And his words—as few as they were—confessed enough of the true history between Wickham and Miss Darcy.

  Not for a moment did she doubt Darcy; his affection for his sister, his painful conversation with the colonel at Rosings, and other small things were proof of his honesty. She had never believed Wickham’s entire story, having felt there must be more to it. She only used her knowledge to hurt Darcy, to make him suffer as much as she and Jane were suffering. And now she felt guilty, foolish, and unfair for her behaviour. She had hurt him deeply—and in a most undeserving manner. But there was no way for her to make amends. Mr. Darcy was gone forever, and she would likely never see or speak to him again.

  Mr. Wickham no longer visited them, and Elizabeth felt grateful for being spared his presence. She would not know what to say to him now that she had a new version—the true one—of the story he had so grossly falsified. She feared her temper would have betrayed her and she would have said things to him that best remained unsaid.

  Fortunately, he would shortly leave forever as well. The regiment was ready to depart for Brighton, and all the officers were caught up in the preparations, bringing a deep and loudly expressed restlessness to Lydia, who rarely spoke of anything else and took advantage of every chance she had to visit Mrs. Forster, owing to the claims of friendship.

  By the seventh day after her encounter with Darcy, Elizabeth was more determined than ever to accept her aunt’s invitation without delay. She knew she needed to put distance between herself and reminders of what she had lost, for she had surely lost Mr. Darcy. Her feelings, confusing until recently, suffered a great change; she knew them exactly for what they were.

  What a fool I have been to think that Jane was the weak one! I am in just as much pain as she was days ago. The worst thing is that I cannot tell a soul. And what would I say if I could? No—silence is my only choice, and the passage of the time is my only hope.

  Elizabeth’s unusual change of spirit did not go unnoticed by her mother or sisters—just as Mr. Bennet’s lack of cheer and constant silence were met by his wife’s surprise and reproach. When Mr. Bennet announced that he would join his eldest daughters in London to visit his brother and sister-in-law for a week, the news fell like thunder upon the ladies. Mr. Bennet was usually opposed to leaving his estate, and his decision to journey to London—or any place more than five miles away from Longbourn—seemed impossible and worrisome. He offered no other information except for the wish of visiting his relatives and put an end to any conversation on the subject with a determination that greatly alarmed his second daughter.

  Even when Elizabeth came to his library later that evening, asking for details and inquiring about his obvious distress, Mr. Bennet had no other answer and demanded to be left alone.

  Elizabeth’s concern increased, and she shared it with Jane while they prepared for the night.

  “I intended to speak to you about Papa a few days ago, Lizzy. He is clearly not his usual self. And this sudden decision to go to Town is so unlike him.”

  Elizabeth took her sister’s hands in hers. “True—and he refused to tell me what troubles him. I wonder whether Aunt or Uncle Gardiner know more of this.”

  “Yes, well…Lizzy my dear, please do not be upset with me, but…I believe it is best for you to go to London with Papa while I remain at home.”

  “Jane, what are you saying? Surely this cannot be! We decided to go together. If you do not feel comfortable travelling, I shall remain home too. Going to Town without you would not benefit either of us.”

  “But Lizzy, your presence will be beneficial to Papa. Since this journey seems important to him, you cannot leave him alone, just as I cannot leave Mama alone.”

  Elizabeth’s could easily see the reason in her sister’s words. Indeed, she had been selfish in searching for peace and tranquillity away from Longbourn without much consideration for the rest of her family.

  “I cannot argue with your decision, dear Jane. I have no desire to travel without you, yet we cannot both leave, nor can we both stay at home and let Papa go alone. What are we to do?”

  “You know what we shall do, Lizzy,” Jane answered with a warm, loving smile. “Tomorrow we shall start packing your gowns. We must decide what you will wear in London in case you should meet some handsome young gentlemen.”

  “Jane, handsome young gentlemen are at the bottom of my list of wishes for this journey.” Elizabeth struggled to sound light and amused, but her eyes did not sparkle as they used to. The eldest Miss Bennet noticed but said nothing.

  ***

  The trip to London started with less joy than on previous occasions; Mr. Bennet looked troubled and his second daughter serious, and Mrs. Bennet did not hesitate to offer her opinion.

  “Jane my dear, you should go to Town and Lizzy stay home since you are more likely to find a husband. She has already refused a perfectly good one in Mr. Collins. Who else would propose to her? It is not that Lizzy is not handsome, but she is so wild and outspoken that she will scare away any gentleman who might take an interest in her. Who would want such a disobedient wife? Oh well, I think there is nothing we can do for now. Have a safe trip, and for heaven’s sake, Lizzy—smile at least once in a while, child!”

  “Mrs. Bennet, we must leave now,” Mr. Bennet intervened. “If you have any other pieces of wisdom, please be so kind as to write them down and send us a letter at Brother Gardiner’s house. Perhaps you should ask Lydia to write it since I doubt she had read or written anything in the last year.”

  “Oh, Mr. Bennet, you just enjoy teasing me! Lydia does not need to either write or read. She is too lively and pretty for such things!”

  “Indeed, Papa, I am not like Mary! Besides, if the regiment goes to Brighton,
I shall suffer too much to do anything at all!” Lydia cried while Jane attempted to calm her. Mr. Bennet closed the carriage door and put his head through the small window.

  “I trust you will survive this tragedy, Lydia. Well then—we are leaving now. God willing, you may expect our return in less than a fortnight.”

  The four ladies waved at the carriage, which started to move immediately. Elizabeth caught Jane’s nostalgic gaze and tentative smile; only then did she realise that, perhaps, her sister had remained home in the hope that Mr. Bingley might return to Netherfield after all.

  Her heart ached at the sadness and disappointment Jane would have to suffer when her expectations were shattered once again. As for Elizabeth, she had already given up hope. She had no expectations at all, either from Netherfield or from London.

  The rattle of the carriage and the hoof beats of the horses were the only sounds that troubled the silence between the two occupants. Mr. Bennet pretended to be asleep, so Elizabeth pretended to ignore him until their first stop. After tea and a brief rest, she could bear it no longer.

  “Papa, you must tell me what bothers you. We are alone now, and you have no reason to keep secrets from me. I beg you to stop claiming you are fine.”

  “Very well, Lizzy, I shall stop—claiming that I am fine, I mean. There are things I need to take care in London, but these are not a lady’s business. I might tell you about them once they are solved.”

  “But, Papa…!”

  “Lizzy, can you for once not be headstrong and obstinate? Such behaviour surely does not induce me to tell you what I wish to leave unsaid.”

  The severity of her father’s words was startling, and worry gave Elizabeth chills. In twenty years, she never heard him scold her in such a manner.