Chapter
18
The picnic that
Darcy had suggested the night before took place by the carp pond that was
situated beyond the grove, rather distant from the house. The children were
very excited about fishing and spending a day outdoors so the gentlemen headed
that way soon after breakfast while the ladies joined them some time later, followed
by a line of servants carrying the baskets with food and drink.
“I believe
they are enjoying themselves very much from what we can hear from here.” Mrs.
Gardiner was amused by the giggles and laughs that were coming from behind the
bushes, where the children and the men were gathered.
“Indeed! They
seem to be greatly entertained.” Elizabeth
smiled.
“I
can’t imagine what they are doing to make such ….”
Mrs. Gardiner was
interrupted by the sound of a big splash, a clear indication that someone had
fallen into the water. The screams and giggles of the children grew louder, as
well as Mr. Gardiner’s resounding laughter. With expressions that mingled
concern and amusement, the ladies hurried to the pond to see what had just
happened. They arrived just in time to see a completely drenched Darcy emerging
from the pond.
“Good
God!” cried Mrs. Gardiner, almost losing her countenance.
Mr. Gardiner
extended his hand to assist Darcy out of the water while Georgiana covered her
mouth so as not to laugh overtly at the sight of her dignified brother in such
a precarious situation. To Elizabeth,
the entire scene seemed surreal, and stood petrified, mouth agape, watching her
grinning husband as he stood on firm ground and shook the water from his hair.
“Dear Lord!
What happened?” enquired the astonished Mistress of Pemberley.
“I …
hmm … I was trying to fetch something for Mathew and I fell into the water,”
replied the wet and thoroughly diverted husband.
Elizabeth was still too
shocked to entertain the idea of the Master of Pemberley
falling into a pond because of a six-year-old child.
“Something?”
“Yes.”
Darcy said as he walked towards his wife with one hand behind his back and a naughty
smile on his face. Behind him, Mathew covered his giggles with both hands.
Recoiling several steps at
Darcy’s somehow compelling advance over her person, Elizabeth contrived to answer with all the self-assurance
she could muster, which was not much due to the absurdity of their current
situation. “Indeed? What, pray tell, what was that you were trying to fetch
that had thrown you so unceremoniously into the water?”
By then the
gentleman was standing before her, water dripping from his clothes, eyes
shining with mischief. “This,”
declared Darcy as he presented her a frog not two inches from her nose.
Elizabeth screamed at the
sight of the fat, greenish and decidedly horrible animal so close to her face
and jumped back in horror. The rest of the party erupted in hysterical laughter.
“Mr. Darcy!
How could you!” cried an agitated Elizabeth
while placing her hand on her bosom. “You … you …”
Her protests lived
short. While she attempted to compose a suitable speech to chastise her
irreverent husband, Darcy took hold of Elizabeth’s
chin and pressed his fingers to her cheeks, forcing a most enticing pout on her
lips. There he planted a firm, noisy kiss, much to Elizabeth’s –and
everyone’s-- surprise.
Darcy released his
wide eyed and absolutely stunned wife and bowed formally. “Now, if you will excuse me, madam, I
shall make myself presentable for lunch.”
He then handed the
frog to Mathew and marched towards the house, looking so very pleased with
himself. Elizabeth
stood perplexed, Georgiana was drying tears from her eyes and the children were
rolling on the grass from laughing out loud.
Mr. Gardiner,
exceedingly amused by the whole scene, rubbed the back of his neck while thinking
aloud, “I say, that was a very good way of silencing a woman.”
The picnic
progressed as planned when Darcy returned in dry clothes. Everyone enjoyed the
day thoroughly, the mistress of the house perhaps not as much, as the kiss her
husband gave her earlier in the day had driven to a state of troubled muteness.
Her attitude should not be mistaken as displeasure for Darcy’s actions,
on the contrary, she was more than glad that he had taken such an enormous and
completely unexpected step, yet she could not but fret about what may come
afterwards. Did that mean that all their past grudges were already overcome and
they were finally set on the route towards a loving marriage? Would Darcy come
to her bedroom to consummate a union that should have been established long
ago?
The mere thought of
having Darcy in his bed, making love to her, made Elizabeth blush and tingle
with nervousness and anticipation, so much that she could not bring herself to
open her mouth in front of the rest. She sat in troubled silence, meditating on
what the future might bring, her heart all flutters and her mind wild with
images and sensations that she had not felt since her engagement, when she was
given a brief but ardent sample of how intimacy with her husband could be.
No matter how
unsettling these thoughts were, after so many weeks of loving Darcy from afar, Elizabeth felt her
patience and efforts had been finally rewarded. She had kissed him, he had
kissed her and their intentions and expectations, albeit not voiced directly,
had been tacitly expressed and acknowledged by one another. The only thing that
was left to do to finally settle things between them was to talk about their true
and deepest feelings. Elizabeth
would tell Darcy that she loved him and he would –hopefully- confirm to
her that he still loved her and everything would be fine from then on.
But, against
everything that Elizabeth
had expected, Darcy did not come to her that night. He did not seek her in
privacy to discuss the subject either and continued with his usual routine as
if nothing extraordinaryhad happened. In a certain
way –although she had carefully prepared herself to receive him that
night— she was happy that he did not come to her bed. This did not mean
that he did not want her to become his wife in every sense. Rather, she sensed
that there were some things they needed to discuss before taking that one last
step towards complete intimacy.
Elizabeth rose early on the
following morning, determined to approach her husband and have this one last
conversation with him. He was not there when she arrived at the morning room,
it was too early even for him, so she went to the green sitting room, the one
she knew he was so fond of, to wait for him until he came down.
“Elizabeth.” Darcy appeared
at the door, some time later. “I’ve been looking for you.”
His voice startled
her, not just because she did not hear him coming, but because this was the
first time he had called her ‘Elizabeth’
since their wedding. This was a clear indication that something much more
significant was about to happen and Elizabeth
cursed and her voluble heart for speeding up and contributing to increase her
agitation in a moment when she needed all the calmness she could accomplish.
“My dear, are
you unwell?” Darcy walked towards her and she rose to greet him. “You
were so quiet yesterday, after the picnic.”
Elizabeth was all flutters
and butterflies in her stomach. Her mind was a complete void. She so
desperately wanted to express something meaningful about her marriage but she
could bring herself to open her mouth. Her throat was dry and her knees shaky. She
swallowed and fixed her eyes on his cravat.
“Is anything
the matter?” his voice was soft and tender as he lifted his hand to play with
a lock of her hair.
“I am fine,
sir.” Elizabeth
whispered.
“Good.”
Darcy moved his hand to gently rest it on her cheek. “I wouldn’t
forgive myself if you were unhappy.”
“I am not
unhappy, sir, not at all.”
His other hand came
to cup the other side of her face. She lifted her eyes and met his dark, more
passionate ones. Undoubtedly the time had come and she held her breath when he
finally came closer.
“I am going
to kiss you, Elizabeth,”
he murmured as he leaned down.
“I know”
she breathed out just before his lips touched hers.
The first contact
was brief and gentle but soon he came back, inclining his head to the other
side, this time kissing her more intently. Her mouth opened to his as Elizabeth released an
unsteady sigh, and fell into his embrace when his arms enveloped her. The kiss
went on and on, slowly growing in passion but with the sweet tenderness of two
lovers’ first kiss.
When they finally
parted, Darcy brought her against his chest and rested his chin on the crown of
her head, eyes closed, still unbelieving that this had indeed happened.
“Tell me I am
not dreaming, Elizabeth.”
She raised her head
to look at him with bright eyes. “You are not dreaming, William.”
A slow smile appeared
in his face. This was the first time he had heard his name coming from her lips
and it pleased him exceedingly. He claimed the nectar of her mouth again, this
time losing himself in an ardent kiss where they both released the love and
passion that had been locked inside of them for too long.
They stood there,
tightly embraced for some time, neither of them wanting to let go of the other.
Elizabeth
sighed in delight against his chest as Darcy’s hands gently stroked her
back.
“The others
must be inquiring about us.” Darcy
whispered against her temple.
“Mmmmm. I am sure they are.” Elizabeth made no attempt to disengage herself
from his embrace.
Darcy chuckled
softly and kissed her forehead. “As much as I wish to stay this way
forever, I fear that we can not leave to Georgiana the responsibility of
entertaining our guests.”
Elizabeth looked up and
smiled. “I imagine you are in the right.”
He gave her one
last kiss. Reluctantly, they parted and walked together towards the morning
room.
All eyes turned to
them when the couple entered the room with an arm around the other’s
waist and a dreamy look in their eyes. Elizabeth
looked down and Darcy coughed and muttered a serious ‘good morning’
to everyone as he took his place at the table. Soon the conversation turned to
the plans for the day.
A dark storm had
formed in the horizon, forcing the family to stay indoors for the rest of the afternoon.
They were all gathered in the drawing room when Mrs. Reynolds came with an
express for Elizabeth.
Elizabeth moved to the
window to read it in privacy. The letter was from Jane and it contained most
distressing news.
“Dearest Lizzie,
I hardly know what I would write, but
I have bad news for you that cannot be delayed.
What I have to say relates to poor Lydia. An express came at twelve two nights before,
from Colonel Forster, to inform us that she was gone off with one of his
officers; to own the truth, with Wickham!
Imprudent as a marriage between Mr.
Wickham and Lydia would be,
we are now anxious to be assured it has taken place, for there is but too much
reason to fear they are not gone to Scotland. Colonel Forster came
yesterday, having left Brighton the day
before, not many hours after the express. Though Lydia's short letter to Mrs. Forster
gave them to understand that they were
going to Gretna Green, something was dropped by Denny expressing his belief
that Wickham never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was
repeated to Colonel Forster, who, instantly taking the alarm, set off from Brighton
intending to trace their route. He followed them as far as London where he lost trace of the couple. With
the kindest concern he came on to Longbourn, and
broke his apprehensions to us in a manner most creditable to his heart.
Our distress is very great. With you
so advantageously married, it would not be derisory to speculate that Mr. Wickham’s
attachment to my poor sister is solely mercenary; and that his running off with
her has the ulterior motive of obtaining some sort of monetary advantage. I
cannot think so ill of him, Lizzie, although the suspicions that this might be
the case were accentuated by Colonel Forster’s
understanding that Mr. Wickham is not a man to be trusted. He warned us
to expect the worst. My poor mother is
really ill and keeps her room. As to my father, I never in my life saw him so
affected. I truly hope, dear Lizzie that this unpleasant circumstance does not
have an evil influence in your marriage. I would be truly sorry if Lydia’s
infamy ruins your chances at happiness with your noble husband.
I beg you, my dear Lizzie, to ask my uncle to
come here as soon as possible. My father
is going to London with Colonel Forster to try
to discover Lydia’s
whereabouts. What he means to do, I am sure I know not; but his excessive
distress will not allow him to pursue any measure in the best and safest way,
and Colonel Forster is obliged to be at Brighton again to-morrow evening. In such an exigence
my uncle's advice and assistance would be every thing in the world; he will
immediately comprehend what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness.”
Adieu.
J.’
On reading such dreadful
news, Elizabeth’s
knees trembled under her and she reached for the closest chair where she sat, all
colour gone from her face. Mr. Gardiner, who had been sitting with Georgiana
slightly apart, noticed her niece’s uncommon behaviour and approached her
while expressing her concern for seeing her so ill.
“Lizzie, are
you unwell?”
A sob prevented her
from elaborating a coherent reply.
“Lizzie!”
her aunt insisted, “What has happened?”
From the other side
of the room, alerted by Mrs. Gardiner’s preoccupied voice, Darcy rushed
to them only to find his wife, pale and shaky, apparently immersed in a misery
of the acutest kind.
“Good God,
Elizabeth, what is the matter?” cried Darcy, with more feeling than
politeness, increasingly concerned by his wife’s attitude.
“There is
nothing the matter with me. I am quite well,” Elizabeth replied, endeavouring to recover herself. “I am only distressed by some dreadful news
which I have just received from Longbourn ...”
Here Elizabeth burst in tears,
unable to contain her anguish any longer. She could not speak and handed her
aunt the piece of paper she was holding. Darcy knelt before her and insisted,
taking her hand and speaking in a tone of great gentleness and compassion.
“Elizabeth, pray, tell me
what happened.”
“It is a letter
from Jane.” Her tears were rolling down her cheeks. “It’s Lydia. She left
Brighton, she has left all her friends.” She made a pause and
took a breath before proceeding. “She has eloped with Mr. Wickham.”
Darcy was fixed in
astonishment and made no discernable gesture until he heard Georgiana’s
gasp from the other side of the room. He rose and addressed his sister in a low
voice. “Georgiana, please take the children to the music room.”
The girl gathered
the children and hastily walked out of the room.
“When I
consider that I might have prevented it!” Elizabeth cried in amore agitated manner. “I,
who knew who he was! Had I explained some of what I
knew, this could not have happened. But it is too late now, too late to save
her from disgrace.”
“I am
grieved, shocked.” Darcy paced in earnest meditation. “But it is
certain, absolutely certain?”
“They were traced as far
as London but
not beyond. They have certainly not gone to Scotland.”
“What has been done?”
Darcy enquired, “What has been attempted to recover her?”
“My father is gone after them and Jane
has written to beg uncle’s immediate assistance.” Elizabeth explained. “But nothing can be done; I know very
well that nothing can be done. How is
such a man to be worked on? How are they
even to be discovered? I have not the
smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”
Darcy shook his
head in silent acquiescence. He knew very well how Wickham could be worked on. He
looked at his wife’s teary face and his heart wrenched for seeing her in
such distress, this time caused the same rascal that had once attempted to ruin
his and his own sister’s life with his mercenary aspirations. If there
was someone responsible for Elizabeth’s present misery, Darcy thought,
was none other than himself and his mistaken pride, for letting men like
Wickham walk freely amongst their society.
From her part, Elizabeth was beyond
herself with grief. Darcy stood with an expression of steady gravity, and one
clear thought came to her mind. She had disgraced him and his noble house. Their
eyes met for a moment, Elizabeth’s
full of sorrow, Darcy’s darkening with animosity against the man that had
caused him and his loved ones so much pain.
“I should leave you
now,” he told his wife, “there are some businesses I must attend.”
Elizabeth nodded silently,
knowing what that meant. She had lost him.
“Mr. Gardiner,”
said Darcy as he quitted the room, “may I have a word with you?”
Elizabeth was curled on the
sofa of her bedchamber, overcome by sadness and frustration, wondering what her life would be once her husband made up his mind and
threw her out of his house.
Perhaps it was not meant to
be, Elizabeth
reflected with sorrow as she took a retrospective glance over their whole
acquaintance, marked by so many contradictions and misunderstandings that made
any prospect of connubial felicity impossible to achieve. It was painful,
exceedingly painful to acknowledge that the little power she had gained over Darcy
was now sinking under such proof of family weakness that had provided him with
a most irrefutable reason to annul a marriage that should have never taken
place. This same morning she had dared
to hope and could not but sigh at the perverseness of fate that showed her how
valuable her husband was now when all love must be in vain. Damn Lydia and damn
Wickham, they have just ruined her only chance at happiness.
Elizabeth heard a knock at
the door and thinking it was her chambermaid, she answered her to come in. Her
surprise was great when she realized that, for the first time since her
wedding, the door that connected to her husband’s chambers was opening, and
dried her tears and smoothed her nightgown, cursing herself for her pathetic
appearance. Now in Darcy’s presence, Elizabeth endeavoured herself to
appear composed and welcomed him with a weak smile that did little to conceal
the humiliation and shame she felt for sister’s reckless conduct.
Darcy sat quietly by her side,
his brow furrowed with unavailing concern, at a loss for how to provide
consolation to such distress. “Elizabeth,”
he took her pale hand in his, “there is something I must tell you.”
“Pray, go ahead,”
she replied after a sniff.
Every second he held her he
felt more and more powerless. He had contrived a plan that he hoped would remedy
this wretched affair and had he been more certain of his success, Darcy would
have disclosed to Elizabeth
the true reasons of his departure. Yet it was not in his character to offer
false hopes when the odds were against him and preferred not to torment his
heartbroken wife with vain expectations about a favourable resolution that he
was not sure he would be able to achieve.
“Tomorrow I am leaving
for London with
your uncle. Your aunt will depart on the day that follows, with the children,
accompanied by a manservant. There are some urgent matters in Town that I must
attend.” Darcy expressed with evident restraint.
Elizabeth nodded in
understanding as she was possessed by one most dreadful thought. ‘He does not want to be near me and I
cannot blame him. He will ask for an annulment.’
Unable to see her like that,
so cold and helpless on the sofa, Darcy kindly escorted her to her bed, where
he tucked her in, and sat by her side. There he remained for a long while, holding
wife’s hand until he thought her asleep. He leaned over to kiss her
forehead, whispered a silent ‘I
love you’ and left for his rooms to ready himself for the unpleasant
trial he was about to face.
The anguished wife opened her
eyes the moment her husband vacated her chambers, consumed by the pain of
knowing that she had lost him forever. She did not blame him, though, or find
his behaviour faulty in any way. A man of Darcy’s consequence, defined by
his integrity and his inclination for propriety would never accept such
connection to be maintained. Lydia’s
behaviour had invariably stained the Bennet’s
name and in consequence, Darcy’s. Her husband may have not voiced his
opinion yet, but of one thing Elizabeth
was sure: Darcy’s only wish was to break every connection he had with her
and her disgraced family.
Alone in the darkness of her
rooms, Elizabeth
closed her eyes, and prayed.