"Mr. Dashwood, why have you called today? Surely you realize how difficult this interview is for me. The horrible thing you said at our last meeting — the wicked things you did—. Her voice broke.
"Miss Bennet, I—"
"We were engaged to be married, and you took a mistress!
She shut her eyes against the sight of him and turned her head. A deep, shaky breath followed. When she opened her eyes once more, she looked away from him, at the floor.
The anguish that crossed his countenance at the sight of her distress at least equaled hers. "Miss Bennet—"
"A mistress," she repeated quietly. "Have you any idea how much that hurt me?"
He swallowed hard. "Yes"
His own hands trembling, he reached for hers. She let him take them, but she would not meet his eyes. He dropped to his knees so that he could look up into her face.
"Miss Bennet, I have no right to beg your forgiveness, to hope that somewhere in the heart that suffered so on my account is a corner that does not utterly despise me. But Miss Bennet, if there is — if any chance exists that you might one day look upon me without revulsion — that I may someday regain your respect, if not your love—" He drew in an unsteady breath of his own
"Oh, God. Kitty — if I could but take your pain upon myself, how willingly, how gratefully, how humbly I would bear it!"
She withdrew one hand from his grasp, to wipe tears from her eyes.
"Oh, Harry, I want to believe you. .."
Neither of them heard Darcy open the door and close it behind him. Miss Bennet and Mr. Dashwood still had a great deal to talk through, and they did not need an audience. Darcy believed, however, that they eventually would find their way back to each other.
Elizabeth waited just outside. "You arc most mysterious this afternoon" She nodded toward the door 'Who is in there?"
The future vicar of Kymplon."
"You filled the living? That must be a relief — I know how the vacancy has plagued you. Whom did you find?"
"A promising gentleman who plans to take orders soon"
"He must be a younger person, then. I am glad — there is less likelihood of your having to fill the benefice again right away.
"How old a man is he?"
Darcy s brow furrowed. "At present, I am not altogether certain"
"Well, never mind. I am just pleased we can leave London with that objective satisfied." She headed back to the staircase and started to descend On the second step, however, she stopped and turned around. "But Darcy. whatever does the new vicar want with Kilty?"
"I believe he wants to marry her."
She regarded him in puzzlement. Then sudden understanding lit her expression. "Mr. Dashwood is in there?" she whispered excitedly.
"He is."
"And you've left them alone together? Shame on you, Darcy—'tis most improper." It was an empty admonishment— her eyes danced with delight as she returned to his side. "What is he saying to her?"
"I am not privy to that information."
"All right — as a fellow gentleman, what do you think he is saying?"
He looked into her face and took her hand. "I think he says that if she will grant him the opportunity, he will spend the remainder of his life proving himself worthy of her." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I think he says that if she can content herself to live on a clergyman's income, he will treat her like a duchess." He kissed the inside of her wrist. "I think
he says that—" He whispered the last in her ear.
"Mmm. I had no idea Mr. Dashwood was such a romantic fellow." She allowed him to lead her away from the library door. "And what do you have to say. Mr. Darcy?"
"That I pray your sister consents, for I do not think I could endure another London season such as this."
Epilogue
"Think only on the past as it's remembrance gives you pleasure."
— Elizabeth to Darcy,
Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 58
Elizabeth gazed out the window, momentarily distracted from her needlework by the beckoning landscape of Derbyshire in late summer. The flower gardens called, the majestic trees beckoned, and the warm afternoon sun tempted her to abandon her needle for her best pair of walking shoes.
But she wanted to finish the infant gown today, and so would postpone her walk until later. On the desk, a note to Jane also wanted completion. Elizabeth thought of her sister often these days, wondering how her sister fared as the time of her confinement neared.
Darcy entered, a letter in his hand. I have just received word that the old vicar of Kympton passed away yesterday. The living is now Mr. Dashwood's as soon as he is eligible for ordination."
"That is sad news for the vicar's family, but Kitty will be glad to hear it. She and Mr. Dashwood can now fix upon a wedding date."
"Do you think they will wed as soon as he takes orders?"
"I imagine so After all, Mr. Dashwood is not getting any younger."
She added several stitches to the bedgown. The mundane task, undertaken in the comfort and security of Pemberley made their encounter with the Mirror of Narcissus seem as though it occurred long ago. However, one had only to recall Mr. Dashwood's matured countenance to remember that awful
day vividly. She raised her eyes to her husband, grateful for the thousandth time that she had not lost him to the mirror's curse.
"You have a distant expression." he observed.
"I was thinking aboul the Mirror of Narcissus," she said. "I have often wondered what image held you spellbound. Where Professor Randolph bade you imagine yourself as you wanted others to see you, did you create a younger representation of yourself, as had so many victims before you?"
"No, older."
"Older?"
"Not advanced in age, so much as in understanding," he explained. "I pictured myself the kind of man my father was. A teacher with wisdom to impart."
"To someone like Harry?"
"To my own son. Or daughter."
She pushed the needle through the muslin and brought it up again. Darcy sat down beside her, observing "That is a handsome dress — I think the finest of all you have made for Jane. Your sister will treasure it, I am certain."
"This one is not for Jane."
"It is not?"
She met his gaze and smiled softly. "No, it is not."
He did not speak, only gently look the dress from her hand, and set it aside so he could pull her close. As he gathered her into his arms, she looked forward to seeing him as he had seen himself in the glass — a father to the child who had been the cause of the mirror's destruction.
A soul for a soul. That had been the mirror's price, and all it could contain. But in that terrible moment when it had tried to claim hers, unknown yet even to herself, her body had held two.
The End
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Suspense & Sensibility m&mdm-2 Page 26