by Lane Cossett
Her father was sitting in his favourite chair, a drink in one hand and a book in the other. He looked slightly disheveled.
“Elizabeth, my child, what is it?” he asked, putting down the book.
“I would speak with you, sir.”
“Can it not wait until a more reasonable hour?” asked Mr. Bennet mildly.
Elizabeth’s heart was thumping painfully in her chest as she tried to control her temper. “No, it cannot, sir. I understand from Mrs. Hall that I am not allowed to leave the house.”
“Oh…” Mr. Bennet took a sip of his drink. “And no doubt you have come to tell me I am being unreasonable.”
So it was true. The sound of amusement in his voice annoyed her. She sat down on the chair next to his even though he had not invited her to do so. “Father, I would like you to explain why.”
Mr. Bennet put down his glass on the little table beside him. “I know this must all be very puzzling to you, Elizabeth, but I am doing what I know to be best for you.”
“I don’t think I understand,” said Lizzy quietly.
“I know you think you are in love with Mr. Darcy.”
“Think?” Elizabeth’s voice was incredulous.
Mr. Bennet held up his hand. “Elizabeth, I will not discuss this with you anymore. I have said you are not to marry Mr. Darcy and this is something I will not change my mind about. While he is still staying with Mr. Bingley, I do not want you going out and meeting him.”
“So I am to be kept a prisoner in the house?”
“No, Lizzy, you can walk the gardens but for the moment I do not want you going further afield.”
Elizabeth did not know what to say. She felt a lump in her throat. She swallowed hard. It was no good crying. “Father is there something more that you are not telling me?” she asked, watching her father’s face.
Mr. Bennet sounded quite nonchalant. “I do not know what you mean, Lizzy. Now be a good girl. There are few things that I have decreed in your life, but this is one of them and I expect you to obey me.”
Elizabeth gazed at her father. He was dressed in his familiar clothing and had a heavy gown around him. His hair was as white as it had always been, and the small round glasses were perched on the end of his nose and yet as familiar as he was she did not feel as if she knew him. All of a sudden he was a stranger. She had always been sure of her father’s love and yet he could not love her as she thought if he was prepared to cause her such pain.
“Will you not explain, because I do not understand?” Elizabeth did not even recognise her own voice. There was a painful lump in her throat that was in danger of choking her.
Mr. Bennet’s demeanour changed, and a frown crossed his forehead. “Elizabeth, enough. I have set down my will and there will be no more discussion.”
She had never heard him speak so coldly to her. “Even though you are depriving me of the man I love?”
Mr. Bennet gave a disgusted snort. “Elizabeth, he is not the man you think he is and that is the end of it.”
Elizabeth wanted to scream with frustration. “But if there is something I should know, why will you not tell me?”
Mr. Bennet picked up his book. “Elizabeth, I am your father and I do not have to explain anything. Now go. Please tell Mrs. Hall I will take breakfast in here this morning.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, but her father waved her away. “Not another word, Elizabeth. Not a word.”
Elizabeth got to her feet. She wavered slightly. She had never known him to be so stubborn. “I will never forgive you, sir.”
Her father looked up and for a moment she saw the look of a haunted man. “Nor I myself, but I am doing the right thing, Lizzy.”
As he turned over a page of his book, Elizabeth left. She wasn’t sure how her legs got her out of the room. She felt as if they were about to give way from under her. Mrs. Hall was just coming out of the parlour and Elizabeth delivered her father’s message. She struggled to speak and the tears, which she had tried so hard to keep at bay, started to run down her face.
Mrs. Hall stared at her in bewilderment. “Oh, Miss Elizabeth. What is it?”
However hard she tried the words would not come out. The housekeeper, who had known her since childhood, took her by arm and led her to her own small room, which she opened with one of the keys hanging from her waist and gently pushed her inside. When she had shut the door and pulled a bolt across, she pulled Elizabeth into her arms and held her tightly as Elizabeth sobbed and sobbed.
9
“Darcy, you can see that Netherfield has been sorely neglected. I have set some workers to cut down some of these trees. They are old, but you can see they are diseased and some of them are leaning dangerously. I never thought when I took Netherfield on, there would be so much to do. Naturally you are accustomed to such matters having run Pemberley for so many years…” Bingley’s voice trailed away.
Darcy was deep in thought. He had spent most of the night pacing the room thinking about Miss Elizabeth Bennet and the anger he felt towards Mr. Bennet. He still could not understand why Mr. Bennet refused to allow him to marry his daughter. He had tried to think of the real reason, but nothing made sense. He suddenly became aware that his friend had stopped his horse and was staring at him in a bewildered fashion.
“Is something amiss, Bingley?”
His friend grimaced. “I should ask you the same thing, Darcy. For the last ten minutes I have been trying to explain what I am to do with the north side of the estate, but I do not believe you have heard one word.”
Darcy felt a pang of guilt. “I am sorry, Bingley. What a hopeless friend I have become. You now have all my attention. Tell me again if it is not too much trouble.”
Bingley shook his head. “It does not matter. I should have thought your mind would be elsewhere. Another time perhaps.”
“No… Bingley. Tell me. I am listening.”
Charles Bingley smiled warmly. “No, you’re not, Darcy, and it does not matter.” Bingley gently urged his horse forward. “You look dreadful. I assume you have had no sleep.”
Darcy did not try to deny it as his horse fell into step with Bingley’s. “I kept recalling the conversation I’d had with Mr. Bennet and why I was refused. I remain perplexed. There seems to be no reason for it.”
“Are you going to try and speak to him again?” asked Bingley.
“He would refuse to receive me even if I tried. Mr. Bennet is not about to change his mind. I must leave today and return to Pemberley.”
Bingley stopped his horse once more, patting his horse’s neck as it pawed at the ground. “I have never known you to give up on anything so easily.”
Bingley’s tone was unusually critical.
“I don’t want to give up but there is nothing I can do,” said Darcy. He certainly had no intention of seeing Mr. Bennet and trying to beg. He had far too much pride for that!
“There must be something that can be done. You cannot just walk away. What about Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Do you not want to say goodbye?”
“It would be too painful,” said Darcy. “Would you want to have to say goodbye to Miss Bennet?”
Bingley gave a disgusted snort. “No, I would not. But nor would I want to think I had deserted her. I never took you for a coward, Darcy.”
Darcy wondered if he had heard Bingley correctly. He had been called many things in his life but never a coward. His chest felt tight as he tried to quell his anger. “I am not cowardly. Her father has forbidden me to see her.”
Bingley shrugged. “And why would that stop you? She must be as upset as you.”
Darcy was bewildered. Bingley had never been a person to try and break convention, nor was he in the habit of telling him what to do. Darcy did not like it at all. He gripped his thighs around his horse and pulled on the reins. He didn’t want to talk about it any longer. “I am sure Miss Bennet is upset, but she is a very sensible woman. Meeting her would only exacerbate the pain for her.”
Bingley urged hi
s horse forward with a tug on the reins. “You do not want to speak to Miss Bennet because you are scared of betraying your own feelings. You do not want her to comprehend there is nothing you can do and that makes you feel helpless.”
Darcy looked at Bingley in astonishment. What had happened to his friend? He resented the sudden change in him. How dare he! He had never heard him express himself so freely or spout such nonsense.
“And you, Bingley. You should not talk about cowardliness. It took you a long time to express your true feelings to Miss Bennet.”
Bingley cursed him. “I was a fool, I admit it. I should not have listened to you and your prejudice against Miss Bennet.”
Darcy opened his mouth to speak but Bingley had not finished.
“I know the weaknesses in my character, Darcy, but do you know yours? You always think you are right and I have never known you to listen to the opinion of another!”
Bingley’s voice was raised, and the horses were clearly unsettled by the sudden noise.
Darcy could stand no more. If he stayed where he was, he was afraid of lifting up his cane and hitting Bingley with it. The insults Bingley had thrown at him had wounded him deeply. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said angrily.
Swinging around, he urged his horse to pick up speed and very soon they were cantering across the ground. He heard Bingley shout after him, but he ignored him. He kept riding, faster and faster, eating up the distance as he headed back towards Netherfield. With Bingley’s words still ringing in his ears, he was not watching where he was going. Suddenly Darcy saw there was a wall coming up in front of him. They were travelling so fast there was nothing he could do but let the horse jump. The wall wasn’t very high but as they took off, Darcy’s heart lurched painfully. The ground was a different level on the other side of the wall.
There was a large drop and as they took off, Darcy realised they probably were not going to make it onto safe ground without one of them getting hurt. Moments later he felt himself flying through the air with the ground coming up towards him. He felt a sharp pain as he hit the earth.
10
“Darcy. Darcy. Are you all right?”
The voice sounded very distant. Mr. Darcy struggled to open his eyes. The first thing he saw was two eyes staring down at him. He blinked rapidly several times and started to sit up, but he felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. Damn it. His right arm hurt and he rubbed it with his left hand. He flexed his fingers. Thank goodness. They were sore and scratched, but nothing more. He also had something that was hurting his head. He reached up and picked out several sharp twigs which were tangled in his hair.
“I thought you were going to be killed,” said Bingley anxiously as he knelt beside him.
“And it would have been my own foolish behaviour if I had been,” said Darcy, rubbing his head. Bingley stood up and offered his outstretched hand. Darcy took it gratefully and his friend helped haul him to his feet. Darcy brushed the dust and bits of foliage off his clothes. “What happened to the horse?” he asked, looking around.
“He’s safe. I thought he might have broken a leg, but he managed to roll over and is unharmed,” said Bingley cheerfully.
Darcy was relieved. He would have felt very guilty indeed if the horse had been badly injured. “Bingley, I have been a fool. I should never have taken off like that.”
Bingley looked embarrassed. “And I should not have spoken as I did. In all the years we have been friends we have never had a disagreement before.”
“No, we have not,” said Darcy thoughtfully as he stretched out his arm and wriggled his fingers. “And that is down to you. You have a much nicer nature than I.”
Bingley was quick to dispel his view. “That is not true, Darcy. You do not waste your time on nonsense as some others do.”
“That makes me sound very severe,” said Darcy drily.
“Those that do not know you may hold that view, but to me, you are my loyal friend. I know that when you advised me against Miss Bennet, you were doing what you thought was best.”
“But I was still wrong,” admitted Darcy as they went to gather the horses. “And I now know I have often been wrong.”
“Then will you go and speak to Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” asked Bingley.
Darcy nodded. “You are right. I have never been good at expressing my feelings nor am I used to being refused.” His face was flushed. “Having been certain we would marry, I am now at a loss as to what to do. It is an uncomfortable position I find myself in and one that I never expected. I do not want to speak to Miss Elizabeth Bennet because there is nothing I can offer her now.”
“But you should at least say goodbye,” said Bingley. “I am sure she would want you to do that. Her father’s refusal must have come as much of a shock to her as it did to you.”
Darcy knew he was right, but he had a fear that if he saw Miss Elizabeth he may be forced to endure her sobbing. He had a deep dislike of women crying. He had no idea what to do.
“And how will you see her?” asked Bingley.
Darcy didn't know. “Mr. Bennet has banned me from Longbourn and from speaking to his daughter.”
“I have an idea,” said Bingley.
Mr. Darcy was checking each leg of his horse. He didn’t like the look of one rear foot. “Bingley, you had better tell me while we walk back to the stables. This horse is lame.”
The two men set off. As Bingley told his plan, Darcy marvelled at the generosity of his friend, who had so easily dismissed his show of ill temper that could have ended in tragedy. His body ached and would probably get worse, but he and the horse were mostly unharmed. He was very lucky indeed.
11
Elizabeth seemed to have lost her appetite and only drank a cup of hot coffee at breakfast. Fortunately, her mother was too busy planning a visit to her sister, Mrs. Phillips, later that day and did not notice.
Kitty was immersed in a letter from Lydia. Mary munched on a piece of plum cake as she read a book and although Jane looked across the table at her several times with a worried expression on her face, she was too busy listening to Mrs. Bennet to be able to say anything.
Elizabeth was glad that her father had chosen to eat in his study. She did not think she could have tolerated being in the same room as him just then. She had been grateful to Mrs. Hall for comforting her. When she had eventually stopped crying, she had confided to the housekeeper what had transpired. Mrs. Hall had not offered an opinion or any advice, but she had listened and she had felt the housekeeper’s sympathy for her situation.
Elizabeth sipped on the bitter hot coffee. It was comforting even on such a warm day. She had her own letter to read. It was from her friend Charlotte Collins. Charlotte was now living in Kent and she missed her greatly. She had never understood why Charlotte had married Mr. Collins, but having visited her, she had seen her friend was very content with her new life.
Elizabeth could not account for it as Mr. Collins had proposed to her first and she had turned him down. The man was a fool and she found spending even five minutes in his presence very trying. Charlotte was very patient to put up with him but seemed to do so with complete equanimity.
My dear Elizabeth,
It has been rather a trying week. Mr. Collins has taken to his bed with some sort of sickness. He is a very poor patient as he spends the entire time worrying about his neglect of Lady Catherine. His devotion to Lady Catherine is unwavering and although I have tried to insist he must rest he has taken to sending her notes and she writes back with instructions which are then relayed to myself.
Only yesterday, her ladyship requested that I attend Rosings and sit with Anne de Bourgh. I did not want to go with Mr. Collins being ill, but her ladyship insists as Anne needed some help with a biblical passage she has been studying…
Elizabeth stopped reading and folded the letter away. She could not worry about Charlotte’s domestic arrangements that moment or the travails of Lady Catherine. She would read the letter lat
er.
“Jane are you expecting Mr. Bingley this morning?” asked Kitty suddenly.
“I do not know,” said Jane. “He left so quickly last night, we did not have the opportunity to speak.”
“Well, I thought I caught a glimpse of a horse through the window, coming around the front.”
Mrs. Bennet squawked in horror.
“Oh, what will Mr. Bingley think of us? How tardy of us to still be eating. Jane, look at you. How can you greet Mr. Bingley in that dress?”
“Mama, there is nothing wrong with this dress,” said Jane mildly, looking down at the plain day dress she always wore.
“Yes there is. You must always look your very best. Do you want Mr. Bingley to change his mind about marrying you?”
“Mama, that is hardly likely to happen,” said Elizabeth as she tucked Charlotte’s letter in the neck of her dress.
“Oh, you think not?” asked Mrs. Bennet as she called for Mrs. Hall. “Mr. Collins changed his mind about marrying you, did he not? He must have done, or he would not have married Charlotte Lucas.”
“Mother, we cannot argue about that now,” said Elizabeth quickly. “Charlotte and Mr. Collins are very happy together. He would not have been happy with me.”
“You should not have been so selfish, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet getting to her feet. “Your happiness was not of any importance. Thank goodness Jane has done the right thing and found herself a wealthy husband.”
And so might I, thought Elizabeth bitterly, if it was not for father.
“Do hurry, girls. Mary, stop reading. Kitty sit up straight. I will not have you slouching.”
Kitty opened her mouth to protest but Mrs. Bennet was no in no mood to listen to any of them and by the time Mr. Bingley was announced, they had cleared away the breakfast things and were all sitting at the table with their embroidery and books looking as if they had been busy all morning.