Mr Darcy's Kiss

by Lari Ann O'Dell

  I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship of my mother’s nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and myself. About a year ago she was taken from school; and an establishment formed for her in London; and last summer she went with the lady who presided over it, to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid, he so far recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. She was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and after stating her imprudence, I am happy to add that I owed the knowledge of it to herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement, and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what I felt and how I acted. Regard for my sister’s credit and feelings prevented any public exposure; but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately and Mrs. Younge of course, was removed of her charge. Mr. Wickkam's chief object was unquestionably my sister’s fortune, which is thirty thousand pounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been complete indeed.

  This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty to Mr. Wickham. I do not know if I shall ever see you again, Miss Bennet, as I plan on quitting Rosings as soon as I possibly can. I leave you with the knowledge of the man Mr. Wickham truly is, and if you doubt the letter’s veracity, I urge you to confide in Colonel Fitzwilliam, who knows all the particulars. I know that you will not likely forgive me for my other offenses, which are numerous indeed. The purpose for the writing of this letter was to improve your opinion of me, and should we ever meet again, I dare to be hopeful that we shall meet in civility and perhaps begin anew. I will only add, God bless.

  Fitzwilliam Darcy

  Elizabeth folded the epistle and secreted it away in her pocket. Should anyone ever discover the letter the consequences would be unpleasant to say the least. Elizabeth, with the intent to return to the parsonage and immediately retire to her room to ruminate over the contents of Mr. Darcy’s letter, set off at a brisk pace.

  Her tumultuous thoughts accosted her as soon as she was alone in her room. Unbelievable! If Elizabeth had formed an idea in her mind as to what this letter might be about, she would never had expected this. She had half a mind to dispose of the letter, which must contain nothing but the grossest of falsehoods.

  Her feelings, as she reread the letter, were scarcely to be defined. She could not suppose that he believed a sincere apology to be within his power. But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Mr. Wickham – when she read with somewhat clearer attention a relation of events which, if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of his worth, and which bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself – her feelings were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition. Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished to discredit it entirely repeatedly exclaiming, “This must be false! This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehoods!” – and when she had gone through the whole letter, though scarcely knowing anything of the last page or two, put it hastily away, only to unfold it once more a moment later.

  Mr. Darcy’s letter filled her thoughts over the course of the day. She read it so often as to examine each possible meaning for every sentence that she knew it by heart at the end of the evening. Both tales were the same in essentials, only differing in the circumstances of the living that Mr. Wickham was to receive. Darcy’s writing was so eloquent that as she pondered his words, she could no longer believe his account to be false, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized that in their short acquaintance, Mr. Wickham had taken every opportunity available to speak ill of Mr. Darcy and of all the misfortunes he had suffered by his hand. Yet Darcy had given him a small fortune in lieu of the living at Kympton. She could hardly believe that this was cause to be ungrateful and form an even deeper resentment toward a man who had been overly generous. The most disturbing news of course, and this was the aspect which validated Mr. Darcy’s story, were the events which took place at Ramsgate. What little she knew of Darcy made Elizabeth realize that Darcy would never have concocted such a story involving his own dearest sister. However, she still had little faith in Darcy. Perhaps she would take his advice and ask the Colonel for validation of Darcy’s story. If the Colonel confirmed the story then she would excuse him of cruelty towards Wickham.

  However, she could never forgive him for separating Jane from Bingley. She was not blind to the obstacles that stood between Jane and Bingley’s union, but she also had a firm belief that Mr. Darcy had no business interfering in the personal matters of his friend. It pained her to know that her family’s improper behavior had ruined Jane’s chance for happiness. She had always recognized that their prospects for marrying well were diminished, due to their lack of fortune and a somewhat unfavorable reputation, but to see exactly how much it cost her dearest sister was heartbreaking. She could forgive Darcy for having reservations about such a union; however, his actions and interference were not to be pardoned

  ***

  “I do not understand why you wish to depart so hastily, cousin. Have you not been delighted with the additional company at Rosings?” Colonel Fitzwilliam was looking earnestly at his cousin, “especially that of Miss Bennet. She is quite engaging, I must say.”

  Darcy did not answer but gave his cousin a steely glare, which made it clear that he was not willing to discuss Elizabeth.

  The Colonel was about to say something more, but he seemed to think better of it. “Very well, cousin, I shall not press you about this subject now, and I shall be ready to leave on the morrow.” With that he left Darcy alone with his foul mood.

  The following day, Darcy awoke with a severe headache. He had stayed up long into the night with his heartache and wretched thoughts, not to mention nearly an entire bottle of port! His dreams had been haunted with images of Elizabeth, her fine eyes flashing with fury and her voice rising in anger as she cruelly rejected him over and over again. He would be glad to be gone from Rosings, as it meant that he would not be forced into the painful heartbreak of being in her presence and knowing that she wished herself any place in the world rather than being near him. Still, the thought of being without her was equally, if not more, distressing. No. He would not think about Elizabeth Bennet anymore today. He had a long day of travel before him, which would already be made unpleasant due to his imbibing the previous evening. He would not add to this unpleasantness by constantly dwelling on what he had lost.

  With this in mind, he summoned his valet to help him dress and prepare for his journey. He hoped Richard was already awake and prepared to go, for Darcy did not wish to linger at Rosings any longer than was necessary. When he was dressed, he left his room to seek out his cousin and inquire about his readiness to depart. However, when he reached the room the Colonel was staying in, he found it empty. Darcy lost no time in going down to the dining room making polite, though forced, greetings to his aunt and his cousin Anne, before inquiring if they knew where Colonel Fitzwilliam might be.

  “I believe he went to call at the parsonage,” said Lady Catherine, with an air of disapproval. “Miss Eliza Bennet seems to have captured his attention.” Darcy ignored this barbed comment and bowed before leaving the room, to his aunt’s disappointment.

  ***

&nbs
p; Colonel Fitzwilliam knew he would have to face his cousin’s anger during the entire journey to London, but there was something that did not seem right about his desire to leave Rosings and he suspected it had something to do with Miss Bennet. He approached the parsonage with no idea as to what he might say, but he had to discover if something had happened between the two.

  He gave his card to the butler and enquired if the ladies were within, receiving the answer that Miss Elizabeth was within and awaiting the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Collins and Miss Lucas. With that, the Colonel was led directly to the sitting room where Miss Bennet sat attempting to make progress on her embroidery.

  Elizabeth was perplexed at such a sudden appearance from the Colonel, but covered it well with a polite smile and an inquiry to his health.

  “I am perfectly well, Miss Bennet,” he answered cheerfully, “but merely disappointed that my sojourn at Rosings and our acquaintance will be cut short.”

  Elizabeth was, again, confounded by his words, and suddenly wondered what his purpose could be for calling on her. Had Darcy told him about his proposal? Was the colonel going to try and convince her to accept his hand? Well, if that were his purpose, it would come to nothing. “It is a shame,” she said softly, and before she could stop herself, added, “Will you be going away with Mr. Darcy then?” Elizabeth prayed that the colonel would not observe her agitation as she spoke of his cousin.

  “Oh yes, Darcy seems quite eager to leave. Typically, we stay at Rosings much longer, but I am at his disposal and therefore must leave when he sees fit.”

  “Mr. Darcy, I gather, is very accustomed to having things his own way, I suppose,” said Elizabeth hesitantly.

  “A man of his wealth and position usually is, I would say,” agreed the Colonel, “however, it is unusual that he would wish to leave so soon. He was so pleased when we arrived. I believe that certain company will be greatly missed.” The Colonel watched Elizabeth’s reaction closely and was unsurprised to see a faint blush appear.

  “Mr. Collins assures me that the company found at Rosings is the best in the world,” said Elizabeth, trying to keep her voice from shaking. She wondered why he seemed so intent on speaking with her about Darcy.

  “If I may be so bold, the company was greatly improved by the ladies of Hertfordshire. I have never been surrounded by such lively conversation and witty repartee while at Rosings.”

  “You are too kind, sir,” said Elizabeth, then with a sudden teasing smile she said, “I expect the conversation is one-sided when you are exclusively with your aunt and cousins. No doubt Lady Catherine speaks enough for everyone while Mr. Darcy says not a word at all.”

  “Darcy can be quite lively when among those he is closest to,” said the Colonel. “If you can believe it, he has been unusually tongue tied as of late. No doubt he was intimidated by such an outright display of wit from the new arrivals.”

  Elizabeth, in fact, did not believe it. She would never have described Mr. Darcy as animated. Wishing to distract him from the subject she said, “Will you be remaining to say goodbye to Mrs. Collins and Miss Lucas?”

  “Alas, I cannot,” he replied, “I am certain if I linger too long, Darcy will arrive to drag me away. I wonder, Miss Bennet, if you know of anything that might have occurred to rush our departure?”

  “I cannot say I know anything of the sort,” said Elizabeth, her cheeks growing warmer with every passing moment, “I had thought you were to stay until after my departure next week.”

  The Colonel knew he was on the verge of discovering something and finally decided to be frank. “Forgive me, Miss Bennet, for distressing you, but I must confess that I have come to call with an ulterior motive of sorts.”

  It suddenly occurred to Elizabeth that any further discourse between them would most definitely be of an uncomfortable nature as it was sure to be about Mr. Darcy. “And what would that be?” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral.

  “My cousin seemed rather distressed when he announced we were to depart for London. I am not usually the type to interfere, but I must be frank. I have never seen my cousin so agitated.”

  “I am sorry to hear it,” said Elizabeth, wondering how much more uncomfortable this conversation would become. Then she was suddenly cognizant of the fact that the Colonel could verify Darcy’s history with Wickham. She needed to know if it was true, but she was unsure of how to address it.

  As if Colonel Fitzwilliam sensed her discomfort, he asked, “Is there anything troubling you Miss Bennet?”

  Elizabeth, with slight hesitation, acknowledged that there was something that she desired to ask him. He proceeded to tell her that he could be trusted.

  “Mr. Darcy and I quarreled the day before yesterday. You see, Mr. Wickham, a man I believe with whom you are acquainted, and I were friends while Mr. Darcy was staying in Hertfordshire. Mr. Wickham informed me of his history with Mr. Darcy, which fueled my dislike of your cousin.” Elizabeth observed Colonel Fitzwilliam tense up at the mention of Mr. Wickham, but she continued, “When I mentioned Mr. Wickham to Mr. Darcy we argued. Then, Mr. Darcy gave me a letter detailing his history with Mr. Wickham, he stated that if I doubted his honesty, I could seek the truth from you.”

  The Colonel’s eyes widened at her revelation, but he quickly covered his disbelief and inquired in a relatively even tone, “Did you believe the account of his history with Mr. Wickham? I can assure you of the letter’s veracity, I know all the particulars of their dealings. Mr. Wickham abused Darcy and took advantage of poor Miss Darcy.”

  “I must confess I was of a mixed opinion. Their stories were identical save for the issue of Wickham’s inheritance. I was still unsure whom to trust, but when I read the account of Wickham’s dealings with Miss Darcy, I doubted that Mr. Darcy would construct a lie involving his adored sister. After some consideration, I find that I have little reason to doubt Mr. Darcy’s depiction of Mr. Wickham any longer,” was all she said, with her eyes downcast.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam could scarcely believe that Darcy had revealed Wickham's dealings with his sister to Miss Bennet, but if they had quarreled, it certainly answered why Darcy was so eager to leave. Still, the Colonel sensed that there was something Miss Bennet, as well as Mr. Darcy, were concealing from him. However, there was no polite way for him to discover it, so he decided that at the very least, he could convince Miss Bennet of the truth of Darcy’s history with Wickham “I do hope, Miss Bennet that you have quite excused him of misconceived cruelty. It is a painful history indeed.”

  “He is quite forgiven on that account, sir,” said Elizabeth. “I recognize that I was wrong to give credence to Mr. Wickham.”

  “Mr. Wickham has the gift of earning peoples’ trust even when it is not deserved. You are not to be blamed. Many people were deceived by his gentleman-like manners. I fear that I may have offended you with my frankness.”

  “You did not,” said Elizabeth, still refusing to look at him. Elizabeth was now sufficiently embarrassed, but she could not allow herself to be uncivil. It was not in her nature. After all, that Colonel Fitzwilliam had decided to interfere spoke volumes of Mr. Darcy’s pain due to her refusal. A pang of guilt suddenly lanced through her heart. “I doubt that I shall ever see Mr. Darcy again, but please, assure him that I regret my accusations concerning Mr. Wickham and that I am heartily ashamed of my intemperate words.”

  “I shall, if you wish it, Miss Bennet. Forgive me for intruding upon your privacy and for interfering in personal matters that are none of my concern. I merely wished to discover the reason behind Darcy’s distress. I am glad that I could confirm the truth of his history with Wickham. Now I fear I must go. I wish you health and happiness in your future.”

  Elizabeth smiled slightly despite herself and returned the sentiment. Before the Colonel could excuse himself a maid entered and announced the arrival of Mr. Darcy.

  Darcy was pale when he entered. His face bespoke an evident annoyance with his cousin until attention flew to Elizabeth, who blushed deeply a
s she kept his gaze for the briefest of moments before averting her eyes. “Forgive me for intruding, Miss Bennet, but our carriage is ready and we must depart without delay.”

  “I understand,” said Elizabeth.

  “I will be outside, Darcy,” said the Colonel, leaving the two of them alone without hesitation, as he had no reason to believe his cousin capable of improper behavior.

  Darcy was suddenly all too aware that he was alone with Elizabeth for the first time since he had given her his letter. Even though he had come with the intent not to linger, he could not help but stop and stare as Elizabeth stood only an arm’s length away from him, still coloring slightly while continuing to avoid looking into his eyes. He wondered if her embarrassment came from her desire to be free of him or if she had believed what he had written and now refused to meet his gaze or speak to him due to regret at refusing his hand. In another mad impulse to discover the truth, he closed the distance between them and took her hand in his.