by E Bradshaw
“I think you might find that our Georgie is far stronger than you imagine she is,” countered Richard. “She learned a valuable lesson last summer. But I won’t tell her anything if you truly don’t want me to.”
Seeing Darcy nod absent-mindedly in response, Richard decided to try again. He wasn’t willing to let the subject of Miss Bennet drop so easily. “And despite what you say,” he smiled wryly at his cousin; “I can’t imagine the indomitable Miss Bennet ever being frightened – not even of you!”
“Well, I certainly can’t believe that she would be pleased to see me again,” replied Darcy in a despondent tone. “Too much was said between us that day; I have no idea if she regrets anything that she said to me, but I for one look back on what I said then and I am mortified with myself. It would be utterly horrendous having to go back and face her again; I couldn’t bear to see the disdain in her eyes.”
Richard regarded his cousin carefully; it was entirely obvious to anyone who looked at Darcy that he was suffering from a broken heart. He looked thin and tired, he was always quick to anger these days, and he just wasn’t the same self-assured man whom he had been before. Richard could almost have brought himself to resent Miss Bennet for what she had inadvertently done to his poor cousin – except that he knew very well that she wasn’t really to blame. Richard knew from what he had observed during their time together in Kent that Miss Bennet had had absolutely no idea that Darcy admired her; she had never tried to encourage him, and nothing about her conduct could have been considered even remotely flirtatious. Thus, he guessed that it must have been an enormous shock to her when she had discovered that Darcy loved her.
Indeed, he had watched the two of them interacting with one another with a great deal of interest whilst they had all been in Kent together. Having been a loyal friend and confidante to Darcy since they were very young children, it had been entirely obvious to Richard that his cousin had fallen in love with the quick-witted and beautiful Miss Bennet. His awkward comments and his prolonged gazes in Miss Bennet’s direction had told him that clearly enough. But Darcy had never been one to feel comfortable in unfamiliar company, and especially not in their aunt’s overbearing presence. Consequently, Richard had watched his cousin with increasing feelings of dismay and astonishment whenever they had been in Miss Bennet’s company, for unfortunately Darcy had been completely tongue-tied and self-conscious whenever he had encountered her. In truth, it would not have been an exaggeration to say that he had made a complete mess of most of his conversations with her.
It was no wonder that the poor girl hadn’t understood Darcy’s intentions, for if Richard were to judge from what he had observed, Darcy certainly hadn’t made his feelings very clear to her. He hadn’t smiled at her or attempted to make light-hearted conversation; instead, he had stared at her or had made tight-lipped, one-syllable responses. Indeed, it had almost appeared as though Darcy disapproved of Miss Bennet – and Richard had been sure that that was the impression which she had gained of his unfortunate cousin. However, with his better understanding of Darcy, Richard had known that his cousin’s awkward silences and seemingly grim looks were simply a consequence of his nerves whenever he was around her – and had nothing whatsoever to do with any feelings of disapproval towards her.
“Look, Darcy, from what you have said to me, it is quite clear that you made a complete hash of your proposal,” Richard continued in his typically forthright manner; “and so you might have to forgive Miss Bennet a little for some of the things that she said to you in response. You know she is not an unkind person; in fact, I think she is one of the most generous women I have ever met. I’m quite sure that your proposal took her completely by surprise, and so I imagine that she was ill-prepared to know how to respond. Indeed, from what you have told me about her responses that day, I think it is likely that she had no idea whatsoever that you loved her – and so I’m sure it must have been a massive shock to her to have you arrive so abruptly and then begin to declare your ardent feelings for her!”
Darcy gifted his cousin with a scathing look. “If this is your attempt to make me feel better, Richard, then please do me a favour and spare me your counsel.”
“My point, cousin,” continued Richard in a firm tone, clearly not in the least bit put off by his cousin’s glare, “is that I think you should try again with Miss Bennet. Only this time, show her how you feel about her; court her slowly; allow her to see what a good man you really are. I don’t believe that Miss Bennet would be cruel enough to dismiss you out of hand if you were to return to Hertfordshire, but you need to give her time to get to know you better. I’m sure she will have come to regret half the things she said to you that day – just as I know that you have come to feel ashamed of what you said about her family and her circumstances.”
Darcy shifted in his seat; he was clearly mulling over his cousin’s advice. “But you forget that I also wrote her that letter about Wickham, and about my reasons for separating Bingley from her sister. Every time I think back to what I wrote to her, I am mortified with myself for the things I said about her parents and her sisters. She must think me an insufferable snob!”
“Yes, perhaps she might,” agreed Richard with a rueful smile and a shrug. “And let’s be honest about it, Darcy, you did say some pretty appalling things to her about her relations. What was it you said to her? Something about the ‘inferiority of her connections’? You really didn’t portray yourself in the best light, now did you?” he added with a scornful snort.
“I’m so pleased that my misery is providing you with such entertainment,” retorted Darcy irritably.
“I’m trying to point out why Miss Bennet didn’t fall at your feet in gratitude when you proposed marriage to her,” replied Richard with a wry smile. “She has her pride – just as you do, Darcy. You insulted her, her social position and her connections – but most seriously of all, you insulted her dearest family members. I haven’t known her for as long as you have, but it was patently clear to me whenever we talked with one another just how deeply she loves her family. Are you really surprised, when you consider what you said to her that day, that she flatly turned you down?”
“No, of course I am not. I am not a complete imbecile,” snapped Darcy, feeling more than a little defensive.
Nevertheless, he could not help but squirm in his seat in his acute discomfort, and once again, he frowned to himself as he considered his past actions. “Though I admit I have certainly acted like one,” he conceded grudgingly.
Richard smiled brightly in response, relieved to see that he was making some headway at last. “Then at least if you can see where you went wrong before, then perhaps you can also see where you could make some improvements to your technique?” he suggested cheekily. “Try smiling at her for once and perhaps even making some polite conversation. Don’t frown at her every time she greets you – and for God’s sake, don’t keep insulting her and all her loved ones!”
“Any more of your quite wonderful advice, cousin?” asked Darcy sarcastically.
“Yes,” retorted Richard in a dry tone; “if you are ever so fortunate as to gain her smiles, and you think that the time is right to ask her again, try speaking of love next time and leave the insults out of it!”
Riled by his cousin’s amusement, Darcy glowered darkly at him in response, but Richard only smiled merrily in reply. “I wouldn’t have to give you such advice if you had only acted as a gentleman should on the first occasion!” he added cheerfully.
Richard had only made his comment as a joke, but to his surprise, Darcy suddenly paled and a look of pained anguish crossed his face. Richard could plainly see that he had inadvertently said something which had deeply upset his cousin, and though he was uncertain as to what exactly he had said to cause Darcy pain, he immediately leaned forward to grasp his cousin’s arm in a gesture of great contrition. “I’m so sorry, Darcy,” he said; “that was unkind of me. I didn’t mean to upset you, truly I didn’t.”
Darcy shook
his head and attempted to smile at his cousin in reassurance, though the effort was a sad travesty and Richard was almost sure that he saw a glitter of tears in his cousin’s eyes before he swiftly resumed control over himself.
“It’s quite alright,” Darcy quickly assured his cousin, as he unsuccessfully attempted to look more composed than he really felt. He had never told his cousin of that particular retort which Elizabeth had made, for it had hurt him far too deeply to repeat it out loud. Deep down inside, he feared that she was perhaps correct; that despite all his appearances of being a true and honourable gentleman, he was in fact a failure. Living up to his esteemed father’s high moral standards had always been the code by which Darcy had ruled himself, and ever since he had been old enough to understand the sort of man he wanted to become, he had always set himself rigid standards of integrity and honour by which to live his life. Consequently, the idea that he could have failed to meet such standards in the eyes of the woman he cherished most in the world was a notion that completely devastated him.
In fact, Darcy began to realise then that Richard was entirely right in everything that he had been saying; he could not simply give up on his quest to win Elizabeth’s love. He owed it to the both of them to at least try to make a better impression upon her, and – if it seemed by some miracle that she might one day see him in a better light – to ask her again to marry him. And indeed, focussing his thoughts upon the practicalities of such a scheme seemed much safer than dwelling on the awful words that they had once flung at one another. ‘But how could I go about meeting with her again?’ he silently asked himself. ‘What excuse could I find to return to Hertfordshire?’
Distracted by his doubtful thoughts, Darcy inadvertently murmured them aloud. “I cannot think of any excuse that would serve as a reason to return to Hertfordshire,” he frowned pensively.
Richard’s features immediately lifted in a triumphant smile, for he recognised from his cousin’s words that he had finally decided to take decisive action. “Well, could you not ask Bingley to reopen Netherfield?” he suggested.
Darcy shook his head and was about to answer how awkward such a request would be – especially considering their hasty departure from Netherfield following the ball last November – when they were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the study door. In his distraction over his schemes about Hertfordshire, Darcy absentmindedly called out for whomever it was to enter – and was astonished when his butler announced none other than Mr Bingley himself.
Chapter 2
“Charles!” Darcy greeted his friend in surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you today.” As he spoke, he rose to his feet to usher his friend to a chair, noticing as he did how terribly forlorn his friend appeared to be. “Whatever is the matter?” he asked with urgent concern; “you look quite pale.” And indeed, Charles really did look dreadfully pale and drawn; in fact, Darcy realised that his friend’s appearance was very similar to the grim expression that he was now all too familiar with confronting in his own looking glass each day.
Charles took the offered seat, solemnly nodding his head in greeting to Richard as he did. There was a noticeable look of melancholy to his demeanour, with none of his usual boisterous enthusiasm, and though Charles had been unmistakeably quieter of late, his manner was still unusual enough for Darcy and his cousin to exchange a mutual look of concern over their friend.
“Hello Darcy, Richard,” Charles murmured gravely. “I’m afraid I have some very sad tidings to relay.”
Seeing that he had their unreserved attention, Charles wasted no time in telling them. “I received a letter from Sir William Lucas this morning with some very grave news.”
Darcy could not help but inwardly flinch at even such a small reminder of the society at Meryton – for such reminders always inevitably reminded him of Elizabeth.
“I’m sorry to tell you that Mrs Bennet died four days ago of a sudden heart failure.”
“My God!” breathed Darcy in complete shock. “That’s awful, simply awful.” In his mind he pictured Mrs Bennet as she had been whenever he had seen her in the past; always so loud and boisterous; always at the centre of a gossiping, laughing group of matrons. It seemed inconceivable that such a vibrant, animated woman could actually be gone from the world forever.
“How tragic,” Richard seconded, though of course he had only ever heard of Mrs Bennet through others and had never actually had the opportunity to personally meet her. “Her poor daughters,” he added softly; “how awful it is that she should leave her five young daughters without a mother.”
“Yes, that is just what I thought too,” nodded Charles sadly. “I read the news from Sir William’s letter just an hour ago, but I still cannot truly grasp it. To think of such a kindly woman being gone forever! It is terribly sad, and I feel most for her poor family. Their suffering must be acute right now.”
Charles’ words echoed exactly what Darcy had been thinking to himself; his thoughts had instantly been for Elizabeth and her family, and of the awful grief that they must now all be suffering through. Rousing himself, he got up and moved towards the sideboard where there was a full brandy decanter, and quickly began to pour three portions with a shaking hand. “You have had a shock, Charles,” he murmured, as he handed his friend a glass. “Here, have a drink to settle yourself.”
Though Charles’ eyebrows rose a little at the offered drink (for truly, he thought it was a little early in the day to be drinking spirits), he nonetheless took the glass with a grateful nod. “It has been a shock, Darcy,” he agreed, “though of course I am mostly concerned for the Bennet family. I have no doubt that they will all be sadly affected, but I believe it will be Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth who will bear the brunt of supporting everyone else through their grief, as well as bearing the responsibility of arranging everything for the funeral. They are both such kind-hearted women that I believe they will do all in their power to shield their younger sisters and to take care of their father during this awful time. I imagine that they will be the ones to deal with all their neighbour’s visits, little though they may wish to speak to people at this time, and they will be the ones to take on the burden of organising whatever needs to be done.”
Darcy nodded unhappily in agreement with his friend’s assessment, whilst inwardly wishing that he had the right to alleviate their suffering by taking on such responsibilities himself. “They have always been very close,” he replied gravely. “I have no doubt that the two of them will support one another through this.”
“Have they no family to support them?” Richard asked, clearly concerned at the idea that two such young women would have to carry such a burden alone.
“They have family in Meryton, and an aunt and uncle in London, I believe,” Darcy answered absentmindedly.
“Well, that is good, I suppose,” Richard commented. “I would not like to think that Mr Collins is the only relative they can turn to at such a grievous time.” He did not need to voice his scepticism aloud for the others to know that he was privately thinking that Mr Collins would be utterly useless at such a time.
“But still, even with the support of their relatives, the young ladies and Mr Bennet will have an awful lot to deal with,” murmured Darcy. He spoke aloud of the whole Bennet family, but of course it was Elizabeth who primarily occupied his thoughts.
“Yes, that is exactly what I thought,” responded Charles with an earnest look. “Indeed, apart from bringing you the news, that is why I am here. Sir William wrote to tell me about Mrs Bennet’s sad passing, but he also asked if I wished to attend the funeral – seeing as I was, until last November, a close neighbour.”
“And do you wish to go?” asked Darcy cautiously.
“Yes, of course I do,” answered Charles immediately. “I wish to pay my respects, of course, but I also want to give the family whatever aid I can. I cannot bear the idea that Miss Bennet might have no one she can lean on in this sad time, and I want to be there as a friend.”
He reddened a
little at revealing himself so obviously and rushed to add; “as a friend to the family, I mean. Will you come with me, Darcy? I should like your company, if you are willing to come.”
“Yes, of course I will come,” answered Darcy immediately, for his instinct on hearing the news had been very much like his friend’s.
Both he and Charles knew the grief of losing their parents, and so he understood the deep, heart-wrenching loss that the Bennet family were no doubt going through at this time. He knew how strong Elizabeth was, but he hated to think of her and her sisters struggling under such a burden of grief on their own. If he could offer her and her family any sort of support at this sad time, then he would readily do so.
“Well, I think you have found your reason to return to Hertfordshire,” murmured Richard quietly, referring to their earlier conversation; “though of course I am very sorry it has come about through such sad tidings.”
*****
Thus, it was that only two days later, Darcy and Bingley were set to return to Hertfordshire to pay their respects at Mrs Bennet’s funeral. Feeling unwilling to deal with Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst that day, Darcy had arranged to collect his friend from the Hurst household at an early hour, in the hopes that the ladies would not yet be downstairs and thus he would be spared from their irritating company. Though he acknowledged that his approach towards those two ladies had become little short of brusque in recent times, Darcy was in no mood to greet either of them that day. He had no wish to hear any of the catty remarks that Miss Bingley would undoubtedly make about the Bennet family – just as he had no wish to encourage her in her belief that the two of them were on a more intimate footing than that of polite acquaintanceship (though, in truth, he had found that very little encouragement was actually needed for her to make such assumptions).