“You would be unable to see.” She stared at her hands.
“I believe that Miss Bennet has the soul and strength inside her to flourish and prosper in this new state. Believe me, I know how painful it is, but I also know that any person can overcome such difficulties.”
“I have thanked you before, and I must again — I believe it was you who saved Jane’s life.” Elizabeth spoke fervently.
“Nonsense.”
“I will miss you very much.” There was some additional meaning in the way that she looked at him.
“I will miss you also.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Darcy.”
“Goodbye, Miss Elizabeth.”
They shook hands, and she walked with him as he swung himself out on the crutches. She could not smile, and her eyes were watery.
It had been clear during his call, from Mrs. Bennet’s manner, that she wanted him gone, associating him with Mr. Bingley, who all the Bennets now had valid reason to hate for disappointed hopes. Elizabeth had given Darcy yet more reason to be disappointed in his friend.
Disappointed and more.
Even if he had not believed Jane to be awake enough to remember, a gentleman who was a gentleman had no right to abandon a lady after whispering into her ears that he loved her. There was not the slightest doubt in Darcy’s mind that the story was true. All of Bingley’s behavior in those days when they thought that Jane was likely to die was of the same sort of sentimentality.
But as Darcy left the Bennet house and looked back at Elizabeth from the window of his carriage, once he had swung himself in by gripping the bar in the ceiling, he had an odd thought:Am I any better?
He was leaving Elizabeth behind when he had some reason to think she perhaps admired him. Or did she?
He certainly admiredher.
And he was leaving because he thought her family was insufficient for him. But if he married her, it would not be her family and her connections that he was marrying, buther.
It would be like plucking a pearl out from the muck. The pearl was not harmed by the fact that it had been cast before swine. It was still as worthy an ornament as ever.
There was a longing in Darcy’s throat.
Elizabeth.
No.
He had to remain true to himself, his judgement, and his character. There was no other choice.
Her family was beneath him. It really was that simple. He had done everything for the Darcy name and to maintain its position.
Her family was beneath him. He would say that to himself as many times as it took. Beyond that, her two youngest siblings were disgraceful, her mother was vulgar, and her father did not put himself to the trouble to discipline them. He had not set aside the money required to give his daughters a dowry that might attract respectable men.
A refusal to attach himself to such a family wassensible. Darcy still… felt guilty and frustrated.
Why did being a Darcy mean he had to deny himselfeverythinghe wanted?
Chapter Fourteen
The days were cold, grey, gusty, gloomy and dingy as autumn blurred into winter.
To see Jane’s low spirits tormented Elizabeth. Jane could not be snappish or angry, she always was a picture of serenity and contentment itself — she hardly knew how to complain.
But Jane was unhappy, and Elizabeth believed she often sobbed when alone.
Added to Jane’s loss was Elizabeth’s own unhappiness, an unhappiness that she had no right to admit even to herself.
