by Ola Wegner
She craved some time away from her family and everyday life to be able to rethink and re-evaluate everything that had happened in the course of the last months. What she had not perceived was that she would be compelled to meet Mr. Darcy there. Certainly she was aware of the fact that Mr. Darcy was related to Lady Catherine. However, the last thing she expected was for them to come to Kent exactly at the same time. Had she known about Mr. Darcy’s intentions, she would surely have found some excuse not to come and stayed at home. The presence of the handsome gentleman from Derbyshire could only add to her current confusion about her life. How was she to make final the decision concerning her future with Mr. Brooke with Mr. Darcy separated just a lane apart from Hunsford?
Sitting on the fallen log, she propped her chin on one hand and stared at the green pastures below. Mr. Darcy was here, but it did not indicate anything, and she should not bother herself with him in the least, she chided herself. He had made himself perfectly clear that he had no serious intention towards her at all when leaving Hertfordshire so abruptly last autumn. Though Elizabeth felt deep in her heart that he had once liked her and felt attracted to her, it did not change the fact that he had chosen not to pursue her. She was sure that her old infatuation with him was gone as well, and she felt herself much more mature than last autumn. There was no true cause for her to fret and worry. She had made her decision, accepting John Brooke. In a few weeks, she would return home, and tell her father that she was unchanged in her decision to marry their neighbour, and then Mr. Bennet would give his consent to make the engagement public as he had promised. Mr. Darcy was nothing to her now, truly nothing.
The more Lizzy tried to reconcile her true feelings about John Brooke, the more she acknowledged that he had proved to be her true friend. He had kept her company for the entire long winter, lifting her spirits, and eventually reuniting Jane and Mr. Bingley. It was something she was immensely grateful for. He was a good, intelligent and reasonable man, wealthy too, and attractive in his own way. In marrying him, she ensured the safe future for her family. She liked his company, she respected him, his obvious admiration for her flattered her own pride, and her decision to accept his proposal was right. Yes, the decision to accept him was the best she had ever made. She would find peace and happiness at the side of a man who respected and loved her. Closing her eyes for a moment, she shut the lushly green picture from in front her eyes, suddenly feeling terrified of the turn her life was about to take.
Elizabeth knew that something was very wrong. She felt it in her body and soul, especially when she was lying wide awake in the middle of the night. Some voice deep inside her was telling her that she should not have felt such a relief when her father had insisted on delaying the official announcement of the engagement till the time of her return from Kent, withdrawing his consent till she would be absolutely sure of the commitment she wanted to make. She felt as if she was not ready to be married at all to anybody, and with every day of her stay at Hunsford, far away from Longbourn, and away from John Brooke, this conviction grew stronger.
Despite John’s calm reaction to Mr. Bennet’s conditions, she was perfectly aware that he was less than pleased with her father’s attitude towards his proposal. Elizabeth had wished to tell him that her heart was his, that her devotion for him was strong, deep and unbendable, and that these few weeks of separation meant nothing, as they had their entire life together. However, she had not dared to speak such assurances, even though she had been convinced he expected them and had every right to receive them from her. Most likely John must have felt her doubt and indecision because the afternoon before her departure to Kent, he asked her for a few moments alone with her. As they took a turn around their usual spots along Longbourn, he had spoken little, but when they had reached the outskirts of the park, without any warming of sorts he pulled her into his arms, hiding them behind the large tree.
He had not forced her, giving her enough time to pull away from him when he had been leaning over her. But she had obeyed him; closed her eyes and tilted her face, thinking she should start adjusting to him in this aspect. Understandably, as her husband he would do much more to her than a kiss. He was very gentle and had not caused her any kind discomfort, but she had felt literally nothing. It had not even been unpleasant. She simply stood there stiffly, letting him press his lips to hers.
When he had pulled away, and she had met his gaze, his expression was strange, both worried and confused, if she had read it properly. She had given him a wan smile, averting her eyes, being perfectly aware that her reaction had been not something the man should expect from his future wife.
He had not commented on her reserve, but a moment later, she had felt herself drawn into his arms one more time. He held her very gently, as if she had been made of fine glass, and when she had sensed him leaning down for another kiss, she had closed her eyes, and imagined being in the darkened side room at Netherfield, the night of the ball, in the company of quite another gentleman.
When she had recollected herself, and broken the kiss, opening her eyes, she had seen John Brooke looming over her, his breathing laboured, eyes burning at her, face flushed. His arms had been wrapped firmly around her waist and back, keeping her so close to him that there had not even been the tiniest space between their bodies. Gazing into his eyes, she had frozen and paled abruptly, realizing that while kissing him, she had pictured herself to be in arms of Mr. Darcy.
Elizabeth could see how pleased John Brooke had been because of the way she had accepted his second kiss and embrace. Clearly, he had associated her earlier withdrawal and reserve with her maiden coyness or something of the kind, because he had only kissed her temple, tenderly asking forgiveness for his straightforwardness and frightening her.
The sound of someone’s steps brought her back to reality. Turning around, she saw a young girl standing behind the log she had sat herself on. Standing up, she eyed the girl carefully. She was finely dressed, in a simple but very elegant dress, and could have been Lydia’s or perhaps Kitty’s age. How unusual. In a way, she looked strangely familiar to Elizabeth, even though she was sure they had never met before. But the shape of her eyes, her rounded face and straight, pale blonde hair, yes... she looked so much like…
“Pray forgive me….,” the girl started speaking, or rather stammering, drawing Elizabeth’s attention away from her thoughts. “I am aware we have not been introduced, and it is rude of me to address you in the first place, but are you perhaps Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” she asked shyly.
Elizabeth’s forehead? creased in confusion. “Yes, I am.”
The girl’s countenance brightened visibly and she spoke again, her voice much more animated. “I have heard so much about you.” She smiled a bit unsurely. “My name is Georgiana Darcy.”
Elizabeth’s brows shot up. “Mr. Darcy’s sister?”
The girl nodded. “It is such a pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Bennet,” she spoke softly, still smiling. “I have heard so much about you from my brother. I must admit I decided to take a walk in hope of meeting you. I know about your love for long walks.”
Elizabeth stared at the young girl in astonishment, not knowing how to respond. “I have heard much about you as well, Miss Darcy,” she managed to answer at last, not wanting to be rude, sensing that the young lady wanted to make friends with her.
The girl smiled, lowering her eyes to the ground, but saying nothing. She was visibly embarrassed. Elizabeth continued to regard her carefully… the way she titled her head… what a likeness… She had seen exactly the same movement so many times before when looking at her Aunt Madeline. Good gracious, was it possible that…? Elizabeth found it hard to believe such a possibility, but could it be true that her aunt, Madeline Gardiner, was related to the Darcys themselves?
Elizabeth pushed those alarming thoughts aside, considering there would be time later to focus on them. “I have heard from Mr. Collins that the guests arrived at Rosings, but I have been only aware of Mr. Darcy’s and his c
ousin Colonel Fitzwilliam’s presence.” she noted pleasantly.
Miss Darcy returned Elizabeth’s warm gaze, speaking in a soft musical voice, “It is not surprising, Miss Bennet, as usually my brother comes here alone every year to visit our aunt. I do not accompany him because I am busy with my studies in London. However, this time I asked him to bring me with him.”
“Miss Darcy, would you care to join me?” Elizabeth asked, gesturing to the fallen log. The girl’s smile grew bigger, and she sat next to Elizabeth.
“You mentioned your studies,” Elizabeth enquired with smile. “Do they take a lot of your time?”
“Yes, quite,” Miss Darcy said seriously, clasping her hands primly on her lap. “When I am not with my brother, I live with my companion, and I have several tutors and see at least two every day, like my French and Italian tutor, then the music tutor, dance tutor, history and literature tutor, drawing and painting tutor.” the girl counted on her slim fingers. “As well as the mathematics and science tutors, as my brother thinks that ladies deserves to have a broader view of the world than is usually expected in society.” she added.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in astonishment, and instantly her own youngest sisters came to her mind. It was impossible to imagine that Kitty and Lydia would have been able to bear such a regime, even for a few days. “You must have your entire days occupied.” she noted with respect.
“Yes, but I do like it,” Miss Darcy stressed. “My brother wants me to be a truly accomplished lady, and I am always happy to learn, to make him proud of me, but sometimes...” the girl paused, letting out a soft sigh. “I miss him,” she said simply.
“I see,” Elizabeth acknowledged softly, eying the younger girl. “You must feel lonely.”
“Sometimes,” Miss Darcy agreed quietly, but then added more cheerfully. “But I do understand that he is very busy, running the estate, and being involved with so many other important matters. My brother has many responsibilities, not just me. So many people depend on him for their wellbeing,” meeting Elizabeth’s somehow compassionate gaze, she spoke hastily. “He is the best brother one can possibly have.”
Elizabeth’s face spread in a reassuring smile. “Oh, I am sure of that. When I met your brother last autumn in Herefordshire, he mentioned you quite often to me, and to others as well, speaking very warmly about you each time, especially praising your skill on the pianoforte.”
Miss Darcy blushed in obvious pleasure. “I practice diligently several hours every day,” she admitted.
Elizabeth laughed softly. “I do admire such devotion,” she stressed smilingly, raising her brow. “I am ashamed to admit this, but I am much too lazy to force myself to practice every day. It is the main reason why my own playing is seriously lacking.”
“Oh, no!” Miss Darcy denied at once in all seriousness. “My brother said your playing was delightful and that he had rarely heard anyone to play with such a feeling, and my brother never lies.”
Elizabeth was a bit taken aback with her companion’s words and the unexpected praise for her own playing, which she knew was in the best case decent, and for a moment she did not know how to respond. “You mentioned feeling lonely, Miss Darcy.” she said at last, hoping to bring a new turn to the conversation. “But can you imagine that one can long for a moment of peace in his own company, which is hardly possible, when like me, one lives with four sisters.”
“I have always wanted a sister,” Georgiana spoke earnestly, staring straight at Elizabeth, displaying a kind of longing in her expression.
Elizabeth was again quite astonished with her new friend’s words, wondering if she was imagining it herself or if the young girl was making certain suggestions.
Smiling awkwardly, Elizabeth found another subject for discussion. “I remember your brother mentioning to me that you enjoy reading ghost stories.” She could not really help the blush when she thought in what exact circumstances she had gained this knowledge.
“Oh, yes!” Georgiana clasped her hands together. “But my brother thinks that...”
Her words were interrupted by a strong, commanding male voice calling her name. Even if she could not yet see the man, Elizabeth knew instantly who the owner of the voice was.
In a matter of seconds, Mr. Darcy emerged from the other end of the grove, making Georgiana wave her hand at him and cry, “I am here, Brother!”
The man spotted the girl and started marching towards her, a scowl on his face. Elizabeth felt immediately sorry for the girl. She was sure that Mr. Darcy had not noticed her yet, as she stood right behind his sister, who was built on a larger scale than Elizabeth.
“Georgiana, I have been so worried about you. You informed Fitzwilliam about your intention of taking a walk in the gardens around the house, not miles away from…” Darcy stopped speaking, his eyes widening and then blinking a few times, when he recognized who his sister’s companion was.
Georgiana trustingly scooted to his side. “But, Brother, I was entirely safe, truly.” She looked up at him. “You see, I met Miss Bennet, who has been here for several weeks already, visiting her friend,? Mrs. Collins, and she knows the grounds around the park very well.
“Miss Bennet.” Darcy bowed, his brow furrowed. “I did not expect to see you here.”
Elizabeth curtseyed coolly. “Sir.”
“Brother, did you not hear Cousin Anne mentioning yesterday that Miss Elizabeth Bennet is currently visiting at Hunsford?”
“No, I did not,” Darcy murmured, not tearing his eyes from Elizabeth for even one single moment.
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth spoke with calm dignity, not smiling. “Pray, believe me, I was also surprised to hear about your presence at Rosings from Mr. Collins.” Her expression softened when her eyes moved to Georgiana. “I am afraid, Miss Darcy, it is high time for me to return to the parsonage. I have promised to accompany Mrs. Collins to the village this afternoon.” She walked a few steps to the girl and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “I am most pleased to have made your acquaintance, Miss Darcy.” She smiled warmly at the younger girl, without even a second glance at her brother standing beside her. “I shall be walking this path tomorrow morning as well, so I would be very happy if you could join me, of course, if your brother allows it.” She nodded towards Darcy, meeting his dark eyes fleetingly.
“I will be here,” Miss Darcy ensured, clearly not finding it necessary to ask her brother for permission.
Elizabeth smiled again, and with a final slight nod of her head towards Darcy, she moved past the brother and sister, disappearing between the trees.
When Georgiana was quite sure that her new friend was out of earshot, she nudged her brother strongly. “Why did you not propose walking her back to the parsonage?”
“I…” Darcy creased his bushy eyebrows. “How did you meet her… how did you know it was she…?” he was mumbling incomprehensibly.
“It was easy, Brother,” Georgiana chatted amiably, all smiles and enthusiasm. “As is said, I learned from Anne that she was visiting and that she liked taking walks every day. Moreover, she was exactly as you described her, a gentleman’s daughter, not very tall, of slight build, with dark hair and sparkling eyes.”
Darcy stared down at his sister with unseeing eyes, speaking nothing. Georgiana took his arm firmly and directed him back towards the manor. “She has been very nice to me. We spoke briefly, but of many different matters, and I felt that she truly wanted to speak with and listen to me, not like Miss Bingley who talks with me just because I am your sister. Miss Bingley only pretends to be my friend to get closer to you.” Georgiana added grudgingly.
“Sweetie, I know you do not feel comfortable in Caroline Bingley’s company, but I can hardly do anything about it, as her brother is my close friend. We must tolerate her for Charles’ sake,” Darcy spoke distractedly, as if his thoughts had been on something else.
“Oh, I do understand,” Georgiana assured earnestly. “What I meant was that Miss Elizabeth is so different from Miss Bingley
in every respect. Still, I am so glad that Mr. Bingley will marry Miss Elizabeth’s sister.” She glanced up at her brother from behind her dark blonde eyelashes. “It gives me hope that there will be the opportunity to see Miss Elizabeth at least from time to time.”
Darcy stopped abruptly, but again he said nothing.
“Brother, are you quite well?” Georgiana tried to look into his dark eyes, which were stubbornly hidden from her.
“I am well, I am well,” he murmured. “Simply, I did not expect her to…” he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Let us go,” he said somehow resignedly, “Otherwise, in no time, Lady Catherine will send a search party looking for us.”
Chapter Twelve
As Darcy was approaching the grove, his heart began to beat faster, matching well his overall agitation. Calm down, he ordered himself inwardly, repeating to himself that she was merely a woman, a slight girl, years his junior, with no real consequence in the world. She should not capture him so much nor, even less, intimidate him. He still could not understand how it could have happened to him. He had always been in control of himself, of his feelings and emotions, of being his very own master. And now, it was enough for her to look at him with those pretty eyes or, even worse, smile, and he seemed to temporarily forget everything which should matter to him.
Most unnerving was that he never knew what particular aspect of her would distract him. Like yesterday, when, as was his custom of late, he had been listening to her conversation with Georgiana. Actually, he had not been really following the subject of their discussion, but he had let himself concentrate on Elizabeth’s warm, softly accented, musical voice. And suddenly he had found himself wondering how it would have felt if he had her whispering into his ear some sweet nonsense as they snuggled together in bed late in the evening. Such visions terrified him, but at the same time, they kept enchanting him as well.