Chapter
7
Elizabeth sat on her bed
staring at the piece of paper that rested on her lap, her misery now elevated
to astronomic proportions. Of all the things that could have gone wrong in her
life these past weeks –and by God that there had been so many-- this was
one should be qualified as the most frustrating.
Since her
conversation with her aunt about a week before, when she was advised to
approach her future husband about his dealings with Mr. Wickham, Elizabeth had thought of
a very eloquent speech where she would bring up the subject in the best and
most appropriate way. She even wrote a couple of drafts of her dissertation and
rehearsed it at least ten times until she was certain that she would sound
curious –albeit temperate— without appearing doubtful of his honour
or judgemental of his actions. Even her reactions to whatever his excuse might
be had been practiced in front of a mirror and she had come up with expressions
that she thought would make her look understanding of his motivations yet fair
to all the parts involved.
But all that
trouble had been in vain, as the gentleman, in the shape of a brief letter that
had arrived that same morning, had just informed her that he was not coming to
visit her until the wedding. This left Elizabeth
with no other choice than to wait till then to learn the truth about his
transactions with Mr. Wickham.
‘What will I do now?” Elizabeth thought with
despair, “I cannot write to him
about this subject and certainly I cannot discuss it on our wedding
night!’
Again, she took
Darcy’s letter in her hand. His motives for not coming to Longbourn were reasonable enough, yet she hated him for
delaying this conversation. She read his letter for the eleventh time.
Dearest Elizabeth,
I know that I should be by your side now, and that is
my greatest wish at this moment, but an unfortunate health problem has
prevented me from riding to Meryton this week. For
the past days I have suffered from a severe cold that has forced me into bed
and thwarted my so desired journey. I would have travelled regardless but
thought it wise not to risk my condition and let a simple head cold turn into
something worse. You can imagine my despair at the thought of not seeing you
until the wedding but I do not wish to attend the ceremony in poor health.
If no unforeseen circumstances arise, my arrival in Meryton will be on the evening of January --, two days
prior to the wedding. My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, will accompany me. We are
to stay at the inn in Meryton, as we do not wish to
impose upon your family’s hospitality.
With this letter I enclose a small proof of my regard
for you. I had planned to give it to you in this failed trip but the motives I
expressed before have prevented it. I sincerely hope it is of your liking. Please
accept this little piece of my heart.
Yours sincerely,
FD
Elizabeth looked at the gold
heart-shaped pendant resting in her palm.
‘Please accept this little piece of my heart’. She was
absolutely certain that that line was merely a formality, an inconsequent and
polite phrase delivered with the intention of sparing her feelings from his
absence. It was obvious that he did not mean these words to be taken in the way
she would have wished them to be expressed, yet her romantic heart could but
swell at the significance they would have acquired had things been different.
It was in moments such as these when she wished that he had not insulted her at
the assembly, that he had not been the causer of Mr. Wickham’s
misfortunes, and that he was not the proud and disagreeable man he could be on
occasions. In moments like these she dreamt she was marrying for love, that
this was not a union forced by duty and that this pendant was the wedding gift
of a man violently in love with her and not the token from an absent fiancée
she had not yet grown to respect.
Admiring the
intricate pattern, her fingers traced the delicate filigree absentmindedly as
she allowed herself, even for an instant, to forget his wrongs and find her
husband-to-be less repellent. In this benign mood, Elizabeth turned the pendant over and saw the
inscription neatly engraved in the back.
‘To my Love. F.’, she read.
His words caught
her off guard for she had never expected to read such an impassioned
declaration directed at her, not from Fitzwilliam Darcy. Undoubtedly the
gentleman must be suffering from some sort of deep infatuation. That was the
only explanation she could find for his previous behaviour, still Elizabeth was absolutely
certain that he was not in love with her. He could not be, no. Their engagement
had been so short; their meetings scarce, making it impossible for anyone to
develop true feelings in such a short time. However, the words, nay, the
gesture only served to increase her confusion as she had always thought Mr
Darcy to be cold and distant, incapable of genuine or profound affection.
But then, these
little moments happened when she least expected, meaningful glances that she
had only seen him bestow upon her, words and attitudes that contradicted every
previous notion she had formed of his character that made her think that
perhaps ... perhaps there were much deeper sentiments hidden behind Mr
Darcy’s sober and distant exterior. The intensity of his eyes when he
looked at her as well as the passion he transmitted when he kissed her never
failed to astonish her. He always conveyed such variety of emotions when he was
with her that he would leave her confused and wondering about the source of
such passion.
‘To my Love,
F.” she read again. Could Mr. Darcy really be in love?
A few days after
Lady Catherine’s visit, Darcy had the chance to feel the adverse impact
that his marriage to Elizabeth
would make on his life. His aunt, as she had threatened, went directly to his
uncle in search of an ally to stop his wedding. Consequently, the Earl was now against
the match and Darcy knew that without the approval of the Matlock party, the
acceptance of Elizabeth
into his social circle would be significantly more difficult to obtain. He knew
that London’s main gossipers had their mouths full of him and his
‘particular’ engagement and he did not want this to interfere with
their future happiness as a married couple or affect his dear sister’s
presentation in society. Even some of his associates in different investments
were threatening to withdraw their partnerships if his situation was not
clarified soon. Alone in his fight and overwhelmed by these obstacles, Darcy
convoked his cousin the colonel to help him rectify the wrong that his
aunt’s spitefulness was causing him.
“Fitzwilliam,
thank you for coming on such short notice,” Darcy greeted his cousin.
“I came as
soon as I received your letter.” The colonel sounded concerned. “I
see you are much recovered from your cold.”
“I am well
now.” Darcy went to the subject that preoccupied him immediately. “I
need your help. I am afraid I am in need of a friend in this crusade.”
“You are
indeed, Darcy. Aunt Catherine went directly to my father to speak to him. I am
afraid he is quite incensed with your decision. You must revert this as soon as
may be.”
“I know, I
know. Her ladyship had no scruples in spreading her venom amongst her most
influential acquaintances.” Darcy ran his hand through his hair, this
simple gesture betraying the anguish he felt. “I have already spoken to
my closest friends. Not many of them are willing to understand my position yet
I’m sure your father’s good word and blessing will settle things. I
never imagined that Catherine would be so vicious in her defamation.”
“You can
count with my help,” the colonel declared.
Darcy smiled in
appreciation for his cousin’s assistance. “Good. We shall sojourn
for Oxford on
the morrow.”
“It is not
advisable to travel in bad health, Darcy. I would recommend you to stay at
home.”
Darcy shook his
head. “This is my fight, I cannot abandon it.”
The good colonel
placed his hand on his cousin’s shoulder in a supportive gesture.
“We shall conquer this, fear not. You know father has a weak side for
you. You have always been his favourite nephew. He will understand as soon as
he knows your side of the story. Now, my friend, why
don’t you tell me everything?”
Darcy disclosed the
whole affair to his cousin, beginning with the Assembly in Meryton,
his encounter with Elizabeth
in the woods and Mr. Bennet’s visit.
“Darcy! What
on earth possessed you?” Cried the colonel as he poured
himself a glass of Scotch. “There
are a few places you can go if you are in need of feminine company. I’ve
heard of one that is visited by some very high ranked gentlemen.”
“You are
starting to sound like Aunt Catherine.”
“I have never
seen you lose your wits over a woman before.” Fitzwilliam chuckled at Darcy’s
defensiveness. “But then, this was bound to happen sooner or later. You
are eight and twenty, no one can withstand such
impeccable behaviour throughout an entire life without taking a faux pas. I dare say it was time you
allowed some passion into your dull existence.”
“My life is
not dull,” Darcy protested.
The colonel smiled.
That arrow had just hit the target. “Oh yes it is. Or at least it was
until you met this lady. I have never seen a man of your age so self-righteous
and restricted. You don’t like balls, you never flirt and you rarely
partake in the amusements of the Season. For Heaven’s sake, Darcy, I have
seen women throw themselves at you and you never yielded.”
“You know
that I find all sort of dissolute behaviour utterly reproachable.”
“Indeed. For
you, it’s only propriety and, occasionally, sports. But look at yourself
now. You spend a couple of months in the country and one woman from a God
forsaken village in Hertfordshire has reborn you to passion and emotion. It
only took this Miss Bennet and her bright eyes for
you to feel compelled to break those stupid rules you have imposed on yourself
and act, for the first time, upon your true feelings. And that, my friend, is
called love.”
Darcy stared as his
glass for a while, reflecting on his cousin’s words. There was no denying
the feeling anymore. “I guess you are right. It must be love.”
“Well,
cousin,” said the good colonel, “it’s about time you allowed
someone into your heart. I was starting to think there was no room there for
passion.” At his cousin’s crossed expression, the colonel deflected
the subject. “Pray tell me, what of your Miss Bennet’s
feelings? Is she happy with this ‘arrangement’ as much as you are?
Darcy frowned, not
sure about what to reply to his cousin’s inquiry. “Well, she
… we … she seemed a bit reluctant to accept it at the beginning,
which is quite understandable, giving the circumstances. But then, when I
visited her, she seemed … agreeable with the situation.”
“Agreeable?”
He hesitated for a
moment, then continued, as if persuaded by his own
words. “I believe she is, yes ... she never expressed herself on the
contrary. But do not worry on that account, cousin; we understand each other
quite well. I can positively affirm that Elizabeth’s
regard for me is growing every day.”
“I am most
certain that that must be the case,” said the colonel with a smile.
“After all, she is making a most advantageous marriage.”
A smug slime came
to adorn Darcy’s face. That was exactly the case.
“Though I
grant you, you were quite fortunate that her father didn’t blow your head
with a shot gun when he came after you,” the colonel added in a teasing
tone.
Darcy chuckled at
this comment, thankful that his cousin was bringing some levity into the
discussion. “Indeed. Though I’m happy with the outcome of my
conversation with my father-in-law, I would not wish to see anyone else in the
same position. I guess I never imagined myself to be the recipient of an angry
father’s wrath.”
“I recall a
time when I saw myself in a similar situation.” Colonel Fitzwilliam
smiled fondly at the memory of his reckless years of youth. “I was lucky
I could jump out of Lady Ashcroft’s balcony before her husband could see
my face.”
“But your
naked butt is a sight he’ll never forget,” Darcy chuckled.
“You almost lost your sable in that one.”
“And
my trousers. I was fortunate that I could get the chance to grab my clothes before
jumping.”
Darcy recalled the
incident as if it were yesterday. His cousin was seduced by this beautiful lady
during a ball, that convinced him that her husband was out of Town–or he
had seduced her, it was never clear who initiated the affair--. Apparently Lord
Ashcroft’s trip was a good deal shorter than she had imagined and he came
home in time to find the then Captain Fitzwilliam entangled in bed with his
wife. Fitzwilliam showed up at the Darcy townhouse in the middle of the night,
half dressed, requesting his cousin’s assistance to hide him from the
search party the upset Lord had sent after the officer that had just vacated
his wife’s quarters. A very detailed lie had been invented to serve as
his alibi and also to distract Darcy’s own father from the young
officer’s folly.
Now feeling more at
ease, the groom-to-be allowed his mirth to come out as he resumed the tale of
his own nightmare. “I think that what terrified me the most about this
whole affair was my argument with Aunt Catherine.”
“You must
tell me, Darcy. I am sure she had her feathers ruffled. Mother told me she made
quite a scene when she called,” the colonel smirked.
“It was worse
than you can imagine, Fitzwilliam. She even threatened me with a dangerous
weapon.” Darcy smiled cheekily.
“Pray, don’t
tell me that she brandished her walking stick like a sword,” laughed the
colonel.
“No.”
Darcy said in between chuckles. “If that peacock over her head had not
been dead, I am sure that it would have flown on my face and eaten my eyes
out!”
With every mile the
carriage rolled towards Meryton, Darcy’s mood
darkened. It had been raining heavily for the last couple of hours making their
journey slow and tedious.
“It is
getting worse. Perhaps we should stop until the rain subsides,” said Col.
Fitzwilliam, looking out of the window of the carriage.
“Blasted
weather,” muttered Darcy. “At this speed we are not going to
arrive in Meryton until late night. We are expected
at Longbourn for dinner and we cannot show ourselves
there at midnight.”
“We will not
arrive on time anyway. We must find refuge or we will suffer an accident.”
“You are
right,” Darcy rapped the roof of the carriage with his walking stick. Proceeding their journey under the icy rain would not only
be dangerous for them but an unnecessary discomfort for the men outside. Darcy
instructed the coachman to find shelter at the nearest inn where they would
stay until the following day.
Elizabeth paced her bedroom
like a caged animal.
“Lizzy, try to stay calm. I am certain they are delayed
because of the weather,” said Jane.
“I know,
Jane. But I had hoped to talk to him about Wickham before the wedding. Now I
will not have the opportunity of speaking with him in private.”
“Perhaps we
can manage some minutes of solitude for you two tomorrow. I can help you. I can
distract our mother while you find a quiet place where you can converse with
Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bennet spoke with her usual
sedateness.
“I fear that
it will be impossible.” Elizabeth
protested, feeling helpless and frustrated. “The house will be full of
people tomorrow and we hardly see each other at all!”
“Then you
must speak with him on the way to London.”
Jane offered kindly. “You will have plenty of time alone in the carriage
ride.”
“What? Oh, Jane, no.” She dismissed the thought with a heavy
sigh. “I wouldn’t risk an argument on that subject on my wedding
day while trapped with Mr. Darcy in a carriage in the middle of nowhere. What
if he gets angry? What if we start an argument we cannot stop? Where am I going
to escape?”
“Lizzy, calm yourself! I am sure that you will find the
right moment to talk to him. Please do not trouble yourself any longer; every
thing will be fine in the end.”
“Do you think
so?”
“I have faith
that that is what it’s going to happen. And in only a couple of days
you’ll forget about this whole affair and live happily ever after with
your husband.”
v
Elizabeth felt a little more
at ease after her sister’s comforting words. But what Elizabeth didn’t know was that dear
Jane had never been particularly good at foreseeing the future and in this
case, her divination could not be more wrong.