Darcy went through the motions society demanded, but hecould not separate his mind from the thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet. If she was ill, he must do what he could to comfort her. Now, he fully understood how Bingley felt when Jane Bennet took ill at Netherfield. Possibly her illness was a sham; she expected his offer this morning only to find Edward in the park in his stead. Of course, did they not congenially meet in the park each morning? Her distress of not seeing him today created her illness, or it could be a means of their being alone; yes, it must be so.
Convinced of the latter, Darcy excused himself from the party using the pretext he and Edward would depart in six and thirty hours, and some business still needed addressed. Edward, he assured the gathering, better entertained than did he. Returning to his chambers, Darcy retrieved his greatcoat, hat, and walking stick, and not wishing to be seen by his aunt’s guests, he took the back stairway of the servants’ quarters. He had to be to Elizabeth, and he had to be there now. He had a purpose—a purpose that would ironically change his life forever. He rang the bell, and a servant admitted him to the inner room where he found Elizabeth agitated and flushed. His hope sprang from the depths of his love for her; obviously, she awaited his appearance. He came forward and immediately inquired about her health although in countenance, Elizabeth appeared more flustered than unwell. “I came with a wish of hearing you are not suffering,” he extended his excuse.
Coldly civil, Elizabeth answered him. “As you may see, Sir, I am well.”
Naturally, his coming not to her earlier upset her. Darcy tried to recall exactly what he wished to say to her this morning; he planned his speech carefully, drafting it several times. He accepted the seat she offered, but his nerves would not allow such constraint; he had to move, and within a few moments, he paced about the room. Elizabeth’s eyes followed him, but she knew not what bothered him. Finally, he turned to her, and he stood with agitation building, knowing he must say the words soon or lose his opportunity. Silence ensued for several minutes before he could compose himself; eventually, he approached her and blurted out,“In vain haveI struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
Elizabeth remained silent, and Darcy convinced himself she waited only to hear of his deep regard for her; so, he continued. “Miss Elizabeth, my regard for you began when we first met in Hertfordshire. I was, admittedly, foolish to not seek out a proper introduction at the assembly, but my station in life does not allow me the luxury of associating with those of inferior society, and I was at first blind to your worth. At Netherfield, I found worthy your devotion to your sister, as well as your kindness to Maria Lucas and others who sought your good wishes. Of course, I struggled for several months as to my feelings for you. One must realize the superiority of my family’s connections had to be a concern for our alliance; the censure and disdain we are likely to encounter with such an unequal match was another consideration, but after much self-reproach, I accepted the inferiority of your family’s connections, and I offer you my hand in matrimony.”
Fully expecting her acceptance, Darcy watched as a gamut of emotions flashed across Elizabeth’s face; most of which he could not read.When she spoke, he froze with the vehemence lodged in her words.“Mr. Darcy,” she began slowly,“in such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. But I cannot—I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and, I hope, will be of short duration.”How could he have so misread her mind?“The feelings which you tell me have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation.”
His ears deceived him; Elizabeth refused his proposal. Disdaining any visual form of weakness, Darcy worked hard to compose his thoughts and control his rage before speaking to her again, but his hurt and anger showed clearly visible, and he did not speak for what seemed to be an infinite moment. At length, in a voice offorced calmness, he said, “And this is all the reply which I am to have the honor of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so littleendeavorof civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.”
She turned on him angrily.“I might as well inquire why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if Iwasuncivil? But I have other provocations.You know I have. Had not my own feelings decided against you—had they been indifferent, or had they even been favorable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining perhaps forever, the happiness of a most-beloved sister?”
So, she knew his part in separating Bingley from Miss Bennet. From where had Elizabeth heard it? Edward—Edward unknowingly told Elizabeth of his deceit. How she must hate him—although what he did, he would do again—he did it for Bingley’s own good.
Her continued condemnation of his actions interrupted his thoughts.“I have every reason in the world to think ill of you.You dare not, you cannot deny, that you have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing them from each other—of exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability and the other to its derision for disappointed hopes and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind. Can you deny that you have done it?”
Darcy pretended to be unmoved by her words.“I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success.TowardshimI have been kinder than towards myself.” He showed her no remorse for his actions, and he even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity.
The shift of her shoulders and a rise of her chin should have warned Darcy there was more to come, but he doubted her defiance. He could claim his allegiance to Mr. Bingley in the affairwith her sister, but she knew of other offenses, which turned her opinion against Darcy; and she began to attack him with the plight of Mr.Wickham at Darcy’s hands.“But it is not merely this affair on which my dislike is founded.Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received many months ago from Mr.Wickham. On this subject what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself?”
Wickham’s name—she spokeWickham’s name.Jealousy crushed his heart; his worst fears confirmed. George Wickham, the man whom he most detested in the world, smote Elizabeth.How could that be?Coming in close to let his true feelings be known, he approached her. “You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns.” Darcy’s tone changed, and his color heightened.
With fervor, Elizabeth closed the distance even more as she challenged,“Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help feeling an interest in him.”
Nearly spitting out the words, Darcy replied contemptuously, “His misfortunes! Yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed!”
Energized by their encounter, Elizabeth’s response accused Darcy of reducing Wickham to a life of poverty by depriving him of his rightful income. “You have done all this! And yet you can treat the mention of his misfortune with contempt and ridicule.”
“And this,” cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room, “is your opinion of me! I believed if anyone knew me it would be you, Miss Elizabeth, but according to you, I am a calculated manipulator. I thank you for explaining it so fully.” Darcy turned to face the woman to whom he foolishly gave his heart. “But perhaps these offenses might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design.”Yet, he could not stop at that; he was angry; he was devastated; his own pride hurt—attacked and destroyed. Darcy never sought favors from another; he never needed to do so; being reduced to applying for adoration and respect offended every fiber of his being. He taunted Elizabeth satirically by describing how he could have applied forher hand with false compliments, but he prided himself on always speaking the truth; and truthfully, he had qualms about an alliance with Elizabeth.“Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections?—to congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”
If Darcy thought Elizabeth would accept his words as the voice of reason, he greatly mistook her. His rebuke infuriated her, placing her motives for preferring Wickham as being superficial. Unaccustomed to being questioned on her judgment, she prided herself on being an “observer” of society.“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.”
Darcy stiffened at these words; he prided himself the most upon being a gentleman, and she called him on this matter; his color paled as she continued her ridicule.“You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it. From the very beginning—from the first moment, I may almost say—of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others. I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry.”
Darcy could stand it no more: “You have said quite enough, Madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.” And with that said, he hastily quit the room and the house; yet, he could not do so without one last wistful glance at her.
Leaving the Parsonage, Darcy momentarily did not know where he was; this was a nightmare from which he must awake.Elizabeth!He wanted to scream her name; a knife through his heart would have been less painful; at least, from the stab wound he would die; living without Elizabeth’s love would haunt him for therest of his life.The last man whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry—those were her words! She always hated him. Darcy thought of the many women he thwarted or ignored; he knew the slightest nod of his head would secure their attentions, but the one woman he desired found him to be arrogant and conceited. The memory of the last few months recoiled and bounded forward into an empty vault.
His gait drove him toward Rosings; surprisingly, his legs worked even though his heart lay shredded by Elizabeth’s words.If you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.Darcy ran his hand through his hair and tried valiantly to steady himself. He totally lost his perspective. Nearly staggering up the stairs, he made his apologies to his aunt and retreated to the sanctuary of his chambers.
CHAPTER 9
“I do comprehend a great deal.”
Elizabeth!Her name echoed through his head; disbelief, anger, and empathy fought for control of his emotions. As a man, he must answer the charges she laid before him, but the prospect of seeing the contempt in her eyes again was not something he could do.Then how? How could he respond to her attacks? He would write her an explanation;Darcy would tell her what his resentment and dismay would not allow. He realized addressing Elizabeth’s sentiments about Bingley and her sister would be easily portrayed as an innocent misunderstanding, but what of those of Wickham? He must share Georgiana’s shame. Wickham poisoned Elizabeth’s mind against him; he had to trust her with the knowledge of his sister’s near indiscretion in order to clear his own name.
Darcy paced the room, trying to compose his mind before taking up the quill. He would maintain a formality and choose his words carefully. Lashing out at Elizabeth’s words would lessen her chances of reading his missive; he spent several hours selecting the right words—ones which would encourage her to read the entire letter and maybe be less repulsed by his attentions to her. Darcy had no illusions such a letter might restore Elizabeth to him; he knew he lost her forever, but he could not, even now, have her in the world and thinking poorly of him.
Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were last night so disgusting to you.
She could never be prevailed on to marry him.The words haunted his memory each time he closed his eyes. Leaning back in the chair, he forced himself to swallow the bile-like anguish invading his chest.
I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling myself. The effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion, should have been spared had not my character required it to be written and read.You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice.Two offenses of a very different nature were last night laid to my charge.The first was that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I detached Mr. Bingley from your sister, and the other that in defiance of various claims, ruined the immediate prosperity and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham. It is my wish with this letter to offer you some explanation and, therefore, be in the future secured.
I had not been long in Hertfordshire before I saw, in common with others, that Bingley preferred your elder sister to any other young woman in the country. But it was not till the evening of the dance at Netherfield that I had any apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him in love before.At that ball, while I had the honor of dancing with you, I was first made acquainted by Sir William Lucas’s accidental information, that Bingley’s attentions to your sister had given rise to a general expectation of their marriage. From that moment, I observed my friend’s behavior attentively; and I could then perceive his partiality for Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him.Your sister I also watched. Her looks and manners were open, cheerful, and engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar regard and I remained convinced from the evening’s scrutiny, that though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not invite them by any participation of sentiment. I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; I believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason.
