I joined them unexpectedly a day or twobefore the intended elopement, and then Anna, unable to support the idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me.
You may imagine what I felt and how I acted. Wanting to guard my sister against scandal was my only reason for not moving against Wickham then. At any rate, before I could do anything, like the coward he is, Wickham turned tail and ran. Mrs Younge was, of course, sacked on the spot.
Wickham’s chief object was unquestionably my sister’s fortune, which is £30,000. I cannot help supposing that the hope of harming me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been complete indeed.
This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of planning to direct my sister to Mr Bingley, proposing to you when I was already engaged, and cruelty towards Wickham.
I know not in what manner or under what form of falsehood he had imposed on you, but his success is not perhaps to be wondered at. Ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning either, detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly not in your inclination.
You may possibly wonder why all this was not related to you last night. I was not then master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. You experienced my proposal which was nothing like I planned because I felt nervous.
As I mentioned before, either my uncle or Colonel Fitzwilliam is able to provide you with a copy of the will, and the Fitzwilliams will attest to the validity of all my claims. They will be ashamed of me for my slighting you at the assembly as well as my actions with regard to your sister, and I am prepared to accept their censure, as it is deserved.
My uncle Reggie, the Earl of Matlock, is one of the executors of my father’s will, and he is acquainted with every particular of these transactions.
If your abhorrence ofmeshould makemyassertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin and his family. Once I depart, you will have more than enough opportunity to speak to the Fitzwilliams; they will be here for some weeks yet, as I understand, you will be too.
I will only add, God bless you,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Elizabeth did the only thing she could with the mortification she felt. She began to sob.
The fact that Mr Darcy urged her to verify what he said with others told her it was true. What had Mr Wickham offered her? A charming smile, a handsome countenance, and lies. She had been the ninny who had allowed Mr Darcy’s intemperate words to cause her to want to believe the worst of him. That had left her open to drink up Mr Wickham’s lies without thought.
She did not know herself anymore.
Chapter 10
As he and Carstens travelled towards London, Darcy was lost in thought. He had just been rejected by the only woman he believed he would ever love. But why?
Yes, he had done wrong with the insult she was not supposed to hear and in his disingenuous actions regarding Bingley and Miss Bennet, but in everything else, he was a gentleman, was he not? She had called him ungentlemanlike and that had stung badly.
Surely he was correct in the way he behaved. Was it not right of him to consider the lady’s relative position to his own? Before he lost his head and offered for Miss Elizabeth, he had been determined to follow what Father said. He had been charged to make a brilliant match. He was a Darcy of Pemberley so that is what was expected of him. Now as he travelled away from Kent, Darcy began to wonder if Miss Elizabeth was worthy of being his wife. His head said ‘no’, but his traitorous heart was screaming ‘yes’ drowning out his logical head.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Elizabeth did not know how she managed to reach the parsonage; she certainly did not remember walking back. The enormity of her misjudgements were weighing down on her head. No matter how she tried to see things in a better light, she could not.
After reading the letter on the log, Elizabeth had walked to the glade where she had read the whole of it again twice more. She had sat in reflexion afterward.
She was mortified at her words to Mr Darcy the previous evening, especially considering all her errors. Had she known then what she knew now, it would not have changed her reply, but she would have never vented her spleen at him.
Like Jane. Elizabeth would only marry for love, and she did not love Mr Darcy. Evidently, she did not know him at all.
She must have been away longer than she had realised because when she arrived back at the Parsonage, Charlotte, Mr Collins, and Maria were breaking their fasts. She sat down and the cook-housekeeper brought her a plate while Elizabeth poured tea for herself.
“Cousin Elizabeth, I am not pleased you are tardy for the meal. Lady Catherine demands punctuality,” Collins pontificated as he sprayed some half-masticated ham on the table in front of him.
“I beg your pardons, Charlotte and Mr Collins; I lost track of the time. It will not happen again,” Elizabeth responded.
Charlotte said nothing, but she was rather surprised that Eliza had not replied with some impertinence. She saw that her friend’s colour was heightened. She worried that Eliza may be ill. Perhaps her megrim the other day had been the harbinger of something more serious. Charlotte hoped not.
Before the meal ended, the maid entered and handed some post to the master. She bobbed a curtsy and left the dining parlour.
“This is for you, Cousin Elizabeth.” Collins slid the letter across to her.
“It is from Jane,” Elizabeth enthused. An epistle from her older sister immediately perked her up and gladdened her. “Charlotte, do you object to my reading this before I join you in your parlour?” she asked after finishing her meal.
