“This has been a great help,” he said at the end of those repetitions. “It has given me a much better feeling for the part. I think we can move forward now.”
They carried on with the rest of the scene, acting it to the end without any further interruption. Benedick was able to make his declaration without Beatrice coughing or fainting, and Mr. Darcy was glad to have the chance of rehearsing these lines with Elizabeth speaking the part.
“That was not bad,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said when they were done; “however, I am not certain that you were at the best of your abilities, Darcy. I think there should be more feeling in Benedick’s voice when he speaks of his love for Beatrice. You should probably rehearse this part a few more times like Mr. Bingley just did with his. This is a pivotal moment, which must be practised a great deal to do it justice. Start again from the part where everybody else has just left.”
Ah yes, a great deal of practice telling Elizabeth that I love her. A very witty idea. Mr. Darcy narrowed his eyes at his cousin. But the joke is on you since I do love her. I do not need to rehearse my part over and over to know that Benedick and I share the same sentiment. I shall be happy to do so, however. The practice is indeed worthwhile, and perhaps when I am forced to act with Miss Bingley again, I shall be assisted by the memory of her lines being spoken as they should be spoken, and her part being acted without so much waving of arms and such affectation of expression.
He and Elizabeth took their places and were just about to begin when Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke again.
“While they are doing this, you and I might as well go into the other room and practice the scene at the tomb,” he said to Mr. Bingley.
“That is an excellent idea,” Mr. Bingley cried with excessive enthusiasm. “Perhaps you would come and read the lord’s line for us, Miss Bennet.”
She agreed, and there was another hasty departure.
The plot thickens, Mr. Darcy thought. I wonder if Bingley really is collaborating with Richard. There was something unnatural about his tone just now. I suppose that he had some inkling of my feelings, which he shared with Richard. And then they schemed together like Don Pedro and Claudio. Very clever of them.
Could Miss Bennet be involved as well? That is a strange notion, yet she was surprisingly quick to assess the scene and decide who could play which roles. And was Bingley really struggling earlier, or was he setting the scene for suggesting that I would also benefit from many repetitions of my lines with Beatrice? I think the latter. They are devious indeed.
At least they mean well, or else I would feel the need of taking them to task for this manipulation. But even though they assume a great deal, I do believe they act in friendship and affection. Their purpose is benevolent, and their hearts are pure. They only want me to be fortunate in love and marriage.
I want that too, but I shall not succumb to their method. I suppose that at this very moment they are hoping Benedick’s declaration will turn into mine, but that is not how I mean to propose. My words shall be my own, and the moment will be of my own choosing.
It is not always easy to follow a plan, however.
Love for thy love and hand for hand I give.
HENRY VI, PART I, ACT III, SCENE I
“I am glad we did repeat that scene several times,” Mr. Bingley said. “Even though our purpose was only to set the stage for suggesting that Darcy do the same, I did find the practice very useful. When we chose this play, I did not carefully consider the dreadful treatment which Hero has to suffer. It particularly distresses me that she receives this abuse from the man whom she ought to be able to trust above all others. I can assure you, Miss Bennet, that I do not like saying those lines at all.”
“It is just a play,” she reassured him. “Just a role. I know that you are nothing like that.”
As the two of them looked fondly at each other, it occurred to Colonel Fitzwilliam that one much-anticipated moment was upon them. It only required his immediate absence.
“Will you excuse me for a moment? I just need to take care of something,” he said before removing himself as swiftly as any matchmaking mama might have done.
Speak your part well, he silently wished Mr. Bingley as he closed the door.
Mr. Bingley did speak well. Any worries about how to best express himself came to naught in the moment. He knew exactly what his feelings were, and it was a simple matter to express them plainly, but with the greatest affection. Within a few minutes, a treasured memory had been created, and their future happiness was settled.
“I wonder what has happened to Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Jane said after a little more time had passed in discussion of how happy they were.
“I think,” Mr. Bingley said. “that he may have absented himself deliberately and is intentionally keeping away. I suppose he saw which way the wind was blowing.”
“He does seem to be a perceptive man.”
“I wonder if Darcy has proposed to your sister. It would be delightful if we could all celebrate together.”
“Their engagement would indeed add greatly to our happiness. But perhaps it is too soon. We must not expect too much.”
“Or anything at all,” Mr. Bingley agreed. “We have given a nudge, which is all that can be reasonably done. Their fate is in their own hands now.”
…what’s past is prologue…
THE TEMPEST, ACT II, SCENE I
“I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is that not strange?” Mr. Darcy said for the second time, and Elizabeth thought that he was acting the part very well. She had not agreed with his cousin’s assessment, but still, it was a good idea to spend extra time rehearsing such an emotional scene.
It was a pity that her efforts had no purpose beyond assisting him. She had enjoyed being Beatrice. It was pleasant to be acting any part, but she had particularly welcomed an opportunity of giving an actual voice to the lines which had been repeating themselves in her mind while Miss Bingley was playing the role.
“It were possible for me to say that I love nothing so well as you,” she replied, trying to just be Beatrice, but it was impossible not to think that these were also her own feelings. And he was saying his lines with so much feeling that she could almost believe he loved her too, impossible though it must be.
I am only Beatrice in this moment, and he is only Benedick, she kept telling herself, but her heart did not want to listen. It wanted to love.
He kissed her hand at the end of the scene, and then they began again, with Elizabeth not needing to read all her lines. Having always been a quick study, she was beginning to be able to recite some of the lines from memory.
“I do love nothing in the world so well as you,” he said again, and she wished that he did. Her doubts were such little things. He was indeed a worthy man. Yes, he was a little proud, but it was not improper pride. His manners had sometimes been abrupt, but at his heart he was exceptionally kind and generous.
He kissed her hand again, and then they sat down and chatted for a few minutes, but still the others did not return. Mr. Darcy wondered aloud if he should try doing a couple of things differently in the scene, so they got up and began another rehearsal.
“I do love nothing in the world so well as you.” he said, looking directly into her eyes. “I do, you know.”
She looked at him in puzzlement. He should have said, “Is that not strange?”
He looked awkwardly back at her. “I did not mean to say that, but I do love you. Not Beatrice, but you, Elizabeth. I love you most ardently. I had no intention of declaring my feelings on the tail end of Benedick’s, but it is done now. I was thinking that later might be possible. Or tomorrow. Any time that you would know I was most definitely myself and not playing a part.”
She smiled. “At least you called me Elizabeth, and not Beatrice.”
“There is that, but I had imagined more formality. A proper declaration of my feelings, followed by a well-phrased request for your hand in marriage. But perhaps we do not need formality. The most
delightful thing about our friendship is the amusement we have shared. It is your lively spirit which I most admire about you.”
“I do not know what I most admire about you, but perhaps it is your ability to act Benedick very well.”
He laughed. “That is an excellent basis for a marriage. I have a vision of us acting many plays together. It is a great pleasure to play a role opposite you. I hope that we shall do so frequently.”
“I have no objection to theatricals making up a great part of our happiness.”
“May I take that as your acceptance of my offer.”
“You may.”
“We shall be very happy. Happier than I ever thought could be possible, but I never knew that love would be like this. You are at the centre of all my waking thoughts, and all my dreams. It was impossible not to love you.”
“When I first began to realize my feelings for you, I thought the opposite. Believing it impossible for you to love me, I told myself that I must not love, but I could not wish away my feelings.”
“Nor I,” he agreed. “They were too strong to be denied.”
“Is that what you wanted to do?” Suddenly Elizabeth felt that everything which she had thought so wonderful was coming crashing down. “Did you try not to love me?”
“I did,” he admitted.
“I am not the sort of lady you meant to marry, am I?”
“No, not at first, but you are now.”
“But only after you fought against your feelings. I must know the truth. Did you think me beneath you?”
“Not you, but your situation.”
“I am a gentleman’s daughter.”
“It was your connections on your mother’s side which concerned me.”
“And was that all?” She was certain that it was not.
“No.” His honesty was admirable, but what he had to say was disappointing. “I was also disturbed by a want of propriety on her part and that of your younger sisters. I cannot deny that I had no wish to acquire relatives whose condition in life is inferior to my own. That is the truth of it, but I have since decided that such things can be tolerated for the sake of love.”
Tolerated. If not for that word, she might have hesitated, but she did not want to be his wife on sufferance.
“You might think so now,” she said, “but I fear that it will not be long before you find the situation less tolerable than you presume. Today you may think yourself to be enough in love to countenance my family, but it will not be long before you are reminded of your value for consequence. I have no doubt that if we were to marry, you would eventually come to regret your choice, probably sooner rather than later.”
“I am very certain that will not be the case. I would not let it be.”
She shook her head sadly. “You have only spoken because you failed in your struggle to not love me. That is not a good basis for marriage. Even though it breaks my heart, I cannot accept your offer. I do not believe that I can make you happy, and that would make me unhappy.”
An onset of tears made it impossible for her to say any more. He started to reach out to her but then withdrew his hand and looked uncomfortably helpless. She turned and fled before tears could turn into sobs.
I should have listened to my doubts, she thought as she rushed up the stairs in her desperation to avoid being seen in this state. I should not have let myself love him. I should have known that he was too proud.
Fortunately, she reached the security of her room without running into anybody, but she could not keep away indefinitely. The others would be wondering where she was, and Jane would probably soon come looking for her.
She could not face anybody else, however. Some excuse would have to be made. A headache perhaps. Indeed, she felt as though one might be coming on. She could lie down with the curtains drawn, and then the redness of her eyes would not be so noticeable. That pretext could also be used to avoid going downstairs for dinner. A severe headache, she could say.
But what was she thinking? She could not leave her sister to be the only lady in the company of three single gentleman. They were already teetering on the edge of propriety with Mrs. Hurst making only rare and brief appearances. She could use the excuse of a headache to rest until dinner, but the evening would have to be spent downstairs. That could not be avoided.
This would be a greater test of her acting abilities than any role in a play. While feeling the greatest discomfort, she would have to pretend that nothing was amiss. Some slight loss of spirits might be attributed to her supposed condition, but she certainly could not ignore Mr. Darcy. Such a significant change in their interaction could only draw a great deal of suspicion.
She went to draw the curtains and saw that the rain was still coming down as heavily as ever. While it continued to do so, there was no escaping her situation. She longed to return home, but even if some excuse for leaving could be made, she was trapped at Netherfield for now by this dreary weather which matched her dismal mood.
She stood for a few minutes looking out at nothing. Between the rain running down the window and the tears in her eyes, the world was only a blur.
Should I have accepted him? she asked herself. I did love him. I do love him. But I also believe my choice was right. His pride is greater than his love for me. Sooner or later, I would have become a source of embarrassment to him. His affection would have turned into indifference and then disdain. I have seen all too well the unhappiness of a marriage where one partner cannot respect the other. I would not for anything have my love for him deteriorate into such a sham.
But it is such a disappointment. When he spoke, everything seemed so wonderful. For a brief moment, I was certain that the greatest happiness was within my grasp.
Oh, why does he have to be so nearly perfect and yet so flawed?
CHAPTER 37
But Oh, how a bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes.
AS YOU LIKE IT, ACT V, SCENE II
Curse those lines of love, Mr. Darcy thought. I did not mean to propose to her. I never expected to be carried away with my own feelings while expressing Benedick’s. It was stupid of me to let them slip out. It was rash of me to look into her eyes and fall deeply into the temptation.
If I had been properly prepared, I would not have spoken so unwisely. If I had been less befuddled, I would not have revealed my struggles. If I had been quicker in my thoughts, I might have given a different answer to her question.
But no. That would never have done. I had to tell her the truth no matter what the cost. It is one thing to make a false excuse for something like missing a line, but quite another to be false to the one person who is owed honesty above all others.
Having made that revelation, I had to give a truthful explanation. Another man might have said some nonsense about having always thought himself a confirmed bachelor, but I could not have lied to her. I deeply regret the consequences, but I cannot regret honesty. I have too strong a belief in upholding that principle.
And those consequences were of my own making from the very beginning. Her point was valid. My tolerance might not have been as easily managed as I wanted to believe. Even while I desired to marry her, all my doubts were still intact. I was still dismayed by her situation. I believed myself to be capable of overlooking it, but perhaps she was correct to presume that I would have come to regret my choice.
The fault in this case was all mine. And good sense was all on her side.
Not feeling in any mood for company, Mr. Darcy lingered alone in the room where he had been on the verge of the greatest happiness. He wondered where Elizabeth was now, and if she was suffering greatly from the distress which he had caused. It had been in his power to make her happy, and he had done the complete opposite.
After a little while, the others came in search of him.
“We come bearing momentous news,” Colonel Fitzwilliam cried.
He motioned to Mr. Bingley, who said, “Miss Bennet and I are engaged to be married.”
>
The pair of them looked so wonderfully happy. The bitterness of his own situation pierced Mr. Darcy’s heart, but he had to collect himself.
“This is excellent news,” he declared, making a great effort to hide his own disappointment and look as pleased as he truly felt. “I offer you both my heartfelt congratulations.”
“Where is Miss Elizabeth?” Mr. Bingley asked. “We must share our news with her as well.”
“I believe she went upstairs,” Mr. Darcy said, thinking that this was the most likely thing for her to have done. “We rehearsed for a while, and then she was feeling a little tired.”
“I do hope she is not becoming ill as well,” Jane said with great concern. “I shall go up and see her at once.”
She left, and Colonel Fitzwilliam suggested that the occasion was befitting of a celebratory drink.
“But first I must ask you something,” Mr. Bingley said to Mr. Darcy. “You did advise me against this match. You spoke very strongly against forming such an inferior connection. Can you accept my choice?”
“I can do better than that,” Mr. Darcy replied. “I can embrace it. As your wife, Miss Bennet will be entitled to my greatest respect, but as my friend, she has already earned it, as well as my opinion that you could not marry anybody better. I think that you are very fortunate to be able to marry for love. Her family is less than ideal, but I will offer you this advice: do not ever think of it again. You may choose your degree of association, but you must accept them as they are and never allow their situation to give you any regret.”
“I shall take that advice very much to heart. But you do approve of my choice?”
“I do indeed.”
“Excellent,” Colonel Fitzwilliam cried. There was in his expression something which unmistakably said that this speech had raised his hopes of another engagement. “Now we can celebrate.”
“In a moment,” Mr. Darcy said. “First there is something that I want to say.”
Much Ado About Many Things Page 18