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1812 How It All Began- Part 2

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by Deborah E Pearson




  1812 How It All Began

  Part 2

  Deborah E Pearson

  Contents

  Volume 2

  Untitled

  1. "I saw the Cloud, though I did not foresee the Storm."

  2. Morality is not the doctrine of how we may make ourselves happy, but how we may make ourselves worthy of happiness - Immanuel Kant.

  3. "And which I take notice of here, to put those discontented people in mind of it, who cannot enjoy comfortably what God has given them, because they see and covet something that he has not given them. All our discontents about what we want appeared to me to spring from the want of thankfulness for what we have."

  4. The happiness of life is made of minute fractions - the little, soon forgotten charities of a kiss or a smile, a kind look or heartfelt compliment.

  5. "...if I see but one smile on your lips when we meet, occasioned by this or any other exertion of mine, I shall need no other happiness."

  6. In order to improve the mind, we ought less to learn, than to contemplate.

  7. "Envy is a declaration of inferiority."

  8. "To have a right estimate of a man's character, we must see him in misfortune."

  9. "Desperate affairs require desperate measures."

  10. "Duty is the great business of a sea officer; all private considerations must give way to it, however painful it may be."

  11. "Prosperity provideth, but adversity proveth friends."

  12. "The cure of many diseases remains unknown to the physicians of Hellos (Greece) because they do not study the whole person."

  13. "It is not how much we have, but how much we enjoy, that makes happiness."

  14. "How sickness enlarges the dimension of a man’s self to himself!"

  15. No legacy is so rich as honesty.

  16. Loves quarrels oft in pleasing concord end.

  17. "Love is a symbol of eternity. It wipes out all sense of time, destroying all memory of a beginning and all fear of an end."

  18. The end comes when we no longer talk with ourselves. It is the end of genuine thinking and the beginning of the final loneliness.

  19. In dwelling, live close to the ground. In thinking, keep to the simple. In conflict, be fair and generous. In governing, don't try to control. In work, do what you enjoy. In family life, be completely present.

  20. Remember upon the conduct of each depends the fate of all

  21. A gentleman would be ashamed should his deeds not match his words.

  22. By three methods we may learn wisdom: First by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest.

  23. The vine bears three kinds of grapes: the first of pleasure, the second of intoxication the third of disgust

  24. The greatest pleasure of life is love.

  25. There is no such thing as accident; it is fate misnamed.

  26. "The history of a battle, is not unlike the history of a ball. Some individuals may recollect all the little events of which the great result is the battle won or lost, but no individual can recollect the order in which, or the exact moment at which, they occurred, which makes all the difference as to their value or importance."

  27. "Grief never ends, but it changes. It is a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness nor a lack of faith: it is the price of love."

  28. The happiness of life is made up of minute fractions - the little, soon forgotten charities of a kiss or a smile, a kind look or heartfelt compliment.

  29. Gold is a treasure, and he who possesses it does all he wishes to in this world, and succeeds in helping souls into paradise.

  Footnotes

  Thank you For Reading

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Deborah E Pearson

  Volume 2

  "The soul is placed in the body like a rough diamond, and must be polished, or the luster of it will never appear."

  - Daniel Defoe

  "I saw the Cloud, though I did not foresee the Storm."

  - Daniel Defoe

  10th April 1812: Extract from Fitzwilliam Darcy’s personal Journal.

  These are the last few pages of this year’s journal, so time to take stock and to sum up the year that’s gone. My head is aching, and I’m getting sick, most likely just a cold. I feel unwell and fear these entries may be even more disjointed than usual. But, it cannot be helped!

  I started this year trying to convince myself and those around me that I knew everything. How very little I knew! I’ve moved from one mistake to another, although I am convinced that my mistakes go much further back.

  Memories from childhood have been coming back. I am tortured by the memories of Wickham and Jeremy. Whether Wickham and his mates knew that they would kill Jeremy with what they gave him or not I cannot know. What I do know is that that was the last time I felt even remotely cordial towards the reprobate. *Sigh* I’ve tried my best to fulfil my promise to Father all those years ago that I would look after that reprobate. The reprobate betrayed fathers trust and refused the living father set aside for him. He took compensation and then tried to ruin my little sister this year! Ugh, the word reprobate is too good for the likes of him. He’s a bloody-minded bastard! The world would be better off rid of scum like him!

  Aunt, as usual, has been aggravating me about marrying Anne. I do not know when she will realise that any relationship between Anne and I has always been impossible!

  I've been feeling agitated and aggravated for a while now. Around the time of Bingley’s birthday, I started to realise that it was loneliness. I’ve been bloody lonely all my life, yet this year I seem to have felt it more than ever!

  Bingley has finally found an estate to rent, but he is not there now. This is because he has once more fallen for an unsuitable girl. Here I must correct myself. She herself is not unsuitable, she is a gentleman’s daughter and very respectable. It’s most of the family that is the problem. As usual, I thought I knew better than Bingley and separated the two of them. I have come to realise that it was nothing more than gross impertinence. I allowed myself to be the unwitting dolt that Miss Bingley used to manipulate her brother. We hurt a girl that did nothing more than to give her heart away to a man that adored her.

  *Smudged writing*

  Bugger you cannot read that, and my head keeps swimming. I really am not well. Were I at one of my own homes I would not stir from bed for a month! I will not be caught at Rosings, sick or well! Aunt Catherine would be the death of me!

  Try again: Unrequited love is the worst thing I have ever experienced! I love Elizabeth more than my own life. Miss Elizabeth is my world. She is the second sister of five, Bingley's young lady is her elder sister. I met her in Hertfordshire. have been a fool. I was struggling with the expectation that I was to make an excellent match with a large fortune. Elizabeth has sterling qualities that go far beyond the amount of money that she brings to the match. I insulted her, I’ve hurt her, I’ve belittled her. All unintentional and all the while I have tried so hard to conquer the love I have for her. My love will never die. *Smudges*

  I made her an offer of marriage yesterday. She refused me. Why? Why would she refuse me? I have not told Fitzwilliam yet, nor have I told anyone else. My mind cannot make sense of it. I wanted to tell Fitzwilliam about my proposal today. I realised that it had to be him who told Elizabeth about my separating Bingley and her sister. I cannot trust him to keep my secrets. Fitzwilliam is not discreet enough with my private affairs. I know not what to do. My future is bleak. I cannot face a future without Elizabeth as Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy. I have nothing without her… I cannot go back to a life of loneliness and pain
. I fear going back to my silent, cold world. I dread a life where my bed is always cold. *Smudges*

  *Smudges*

  Am I always to be alone? It is like I’m fracturing into a thousand pieces. My heart will never mend, without her…

  Morality is not the doctrine of how we may make ourselves happy, but how we may make ourselves worthy of happiness - Immanuel Kant.

  10th April 1812

  Dinner seemed to be a torture to Darcy. He spoke little to his Aunt and cousins. Scenes from Hertfordshire, last autumn, flashed through his head. Particularly memories of the ball at Meryton. He wondered why Elizabeth had only laughed about him dancing only four dances. Why was it only now that he realised that there had not been enough young gentlemen in attendance? The more he reviewed the dance the more he realised how bad his behaviour had been. She had been much kinder than he deserved.

  Elizabeth's face rose before him.

  Nausea washed over him, strongly, quickly, he barely had time to rise from the table with a brief excuse. Almost immediately he threw up, and his knees buckled under him. As usual, Lady Catherine notice anything other than what she chose to. It was left to the servants to clean up the mess and help him to his room and his bed.

  It seemed like an eternity, but it had only been a day since Elizabeth had rejected his suit.

  Darcy thought about nothing else. He thought that he had shown his usual demeanour to the world despite his distraction. He was determined to leave Rosings Park the next day and would endeavour to put everything out of his mind. Tonight, he needed to sleep. He had to be better in the morning.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam noticed everything, did nothing to aid his sick cousin. After dinner, Colonel Fitzwilliam ran straight up to Darcy's room. Seeing him asleep, Fitzwilliam woke Darcy up, determined to find out what was going on.

  “Elizabeth” Darcy muttered before realising that it was his cousin waking him up.

  "Darcy, what is going on? You have been acting strangely for the whole of this visit. Last night especially. Now you are sick on our aunts carpet after nearly running from the table. I know it's not leaving Rosings that's giving you so much trouble. Aunt Catherine is taking it as a personal triumph. She thinks that she’ll be keeping you here longer.”

  “Like hell, she will! We leave for London tomorrow, no matter what! Promise me, Fitzwilliam! I cannot be sick here.” Staying with Lady Catherine longer would be bad enough. He was afraid that if she were able to interfere with his estate management, he would become a bankrupt.

  “I promise Darce!” Fitzwilliam almost laughed at the panic that had infused his cousin's statement. It seemed to him that Darcy was concealing much more than he had guessed. He wanted to ask about Darcy's visit to the parsonage, and Elizabeth Bennet being ill. He wondered if Elizabeth’s mysterious illness and Darcy's illness had the same source. Not for the first time did Fitzwilliam wish that Darcy had been one of his men. He could have pressed for answers, even forced his cousin to answer he had to. The problem was that he didn't want to force a confidence from his cousin if Darcy was not inclined to trust him.

  Darcy groaned and turned away from his cousin. He knew that he needed to talk to someone about this — but he was not ready to talk.

  “I must have eaten something that disagreed with me”

  Fitzwilliam knew this to be a prevarication but trusted Darcy to talk when he was ready. "That won't do for an excuse. You are never ill. You deal with all your business and travel and are never indisposed or ill. Something is going on, and Miss Bennet has something to do with it." At this Darcy looked so miserable and ill. It was clear that Fitzwilliam had hit close to home with that statement. He feared to do so immediately in case Darcy delayed their departure for town again. Dissatisfied, he chose not to push the issue any further. Little did he know that Darcy’s will to get away was so strong that fearing was not necessary.

  "I'll try to explain tomorrow on the road," Darcy promised before going back to a fitful sleep. Darcy seemed doomed to dream of a future that seemed to be impossible.

  In the morning, Darcy was up early. He and Fitzwilliam planned to leave before breakfast. They were surprised to find that Lady Catherine had ordered an early breakfast laid out for them. While they were eating, Lady Catherine walked into the breakfast-parlour. Darcy ate very little; his stomach was still not feeling comfortable.

  Without preamble, Lady Catherine began "You are looking better this morning, Darcy. You should stay a little longer, after last night. We should be sure that you are well. " She carried on so much that Darcy had to say nothing. The colonel, when given a chance, emphasised that both he and Darcy had business in town. Delays were now impossible. Finally, Lady Catherine had nothing else to say. This allowed the colonel and Darcy to make their way to Darcy's carriage, where they took their leave.

  The gentle sway of the carriage eased Darcy’s nerves a little, but he had no wish to watch out of the windows. In truth it was leaving Rosings and Lady Catherine that eased his nerves and allowed him to relax a little. It amused Fitzwilliam to notice Mr Collins bowing to their carriage. The man was an oddity at best, but privately FItzwilliam thought hime to be an imbecile.

  Darcy felt too heartbroken to make conversation. By the minute his illness seemed to get worse, so he closed his eyes and leaned back into the squabs. He saw nothing as the carriage moved along the way. Fitzwilliam waited for his cousin to speak, but the awaited explanation did not come. The only thing Fitzwilliam knew was that his cousin was beginning to look extremely ill.

  Fitzwilliam had almost given up on Darcy explaining anything when his cousin's voice broke the silence. In a slow and broken way, Darcy tried to give his explanation. He began with the ball in Meryton but found himself unable to go any further. Elizabeth Bennet's face had risen before him again. Her eye bewitched him once more. At the time, he had thought that she smiled at him after his nonsensical behaviour. Now he finally understood she was laughing at his ridiculousness behaviour. Yet there had been something else as well. Something he had seen again only two days ago - pain, hurt. If he didn't know better, he would have categorised it as a betrayal. Could that be his own guilt adding in the betrayal? He again felt queasy and could not speak. He did not regret what he said, nor did he regret having made his declaration. Yet he still could not understand that she had refused his suit. What right had she to spurn his advances? She who had nothing but her own charms to recommend her, and he a scion of one of the richest and best families of the land. He still had much to learn.

  He had written the letter, and he now hoped that she was thinking better of him. Hope. What right did he have to hope? After all she had made clear that she held a low opinion of him. Some of it based on false premises. Yet, he made choices that had seemed to encourage her false perceptions. Conviction crashed over him that he was the source of his own disappointment, well he and Wickham. Anger surged through him. Once again Wickham was making trouble for him. Would he never be rid of that miscreant?

  “Georgiana will be waiting for us” Fitzwilliam tried to engage Darcy on something else.

  Darcy smiled, the sister that he had thought so perfect. It was a wan smile. Wickham had caused trouble there too. He reminded himself that Georgiana would fit between Elizabeth's youngest two sisters. This opened other unpleasant recollections as well as pleasant ones. Once again, Darcy found that he could not keep up any conversation. His head again started pounding. He had so far ignored hot and cold flashing that was now becoming more and more pronounced.

  Fitzwilliam gave up any conversation. The more he watched, the more convinced he became that his cousin was hiding something about Elizabeth Bennet. Yet he could not take the chance of pressing his cousin for information. Not yet.

  Darcy was suffering more than his cousin realised. Memory after memory crashed in, and Darcy felt that he was reliving each one. He could not change the past, he knew that. Each memory felt like a tiny piece of torture. Darcy's surroundings faded further and further from sight. Despair
crushed his heart, and he felt like he was being wound tighter and tighter.

  After Miss Elizabeth had rejected him, Darcy's barely held onto his surroundings. He knew that he could not succumb while at Rosings, it was too dangerous to both his and Miss Elizabeth’s peace of mind. Lady Catherine could never know of the failed proposal.

  Now Rosings was behind him, he lost the will to fight and know what was happening. The only thing Darcy was aware of was the memories. His last conscious thought was to pray Heavenly Father, this pain is unbearable. Please take this away from me, I cannot bear this trial anymore. My heart is broken beyond repair and I’ve lost my mind. I cannot live this way. Oh God, I hurt in every way I possibly can. The only woman I love or could ever love has rejected my love and the marriage I offered her. I cannot handle the grief in these memories that are coming back. I am so alone. I cannot continue. I cannot live in this, my worst nightmare. Everything and everyone I love has been slowly taken away from me. Take me away from this torturous existence. The physical pain is as bad as the pain my heart. I cannot fight this. I have nothing left to live for. Please, oh my God allow me to leave this earthly plane and join you in heaven.

  Distress and grief felt like it was ripping through him as the world went completely black.

 

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