Chapter
8
The day prior to
the wedding Longbourn’s house was full of guests reunited to celebrate
the marriage of Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. The mother of
the bride, completely disregarding her husband’s recommendations about
holding a small and simple assembly with the closest friends, invited great
number of acquaintances that were gathered to give the couple their good wishes
on their nuptials. As soon as he arrived, Mr Darcy apologized for not having
attended dinner the previous night and introduced his cousin to his bride and
her family.
“Miss Bennet,
I am so happy to make your acquaintance at last,” bowed Colonel
Fitzwilliam.
“At last,
Sir?”
“Yes. I have
heard so much about you.”
Elizabeth was momentarily
worried by his words. The colonel was probably aware of her past conduct and
she was concerned that, perhaps, given the particular nature of her engagement
to Mr. Darcy, he had formed some sort of prejudice against her. Her greatest
fear was that he would find her unworthy of his cousin –albeit his good
opinion was not something she had sought in any way— or an inappropriate
mistress for the grand Pemberley. However, her concerns were dissipated when
the charming colonel entered in the conversation with ease and the engaging
manners of a well bred gentleman.
“My cousin
here tells me that you play and sing, Miss Bennet,” said the colonel.
“A little but
very ill. I wouldn’t wish to excite your anticipation.”
“I am sure
you are too modest. Darcy informs me that you play the pianoforte
exquisitely.”
“Oh no,
Sir,” Elizabeth
said, giving her fiancée and inquiring glance. The gentleman appeared unmoved
to that comment, yet she could detect the faintest of pink on his cheeks.
“I fear your cousin has grossly exaggerated my talents, for some
mischievous reasons of his own.”
Col. Fitzwilliam
exchanged an amused look with his cousin. “I assure you, madam; Darcy
never exaggerates. He always expresses what is in his mind, sometimes too
forthrightly, I fear,” he added with a soft chuckle. “If he praises
you, it is because he has found you deserving of the compliment.”
Elizabeth stared at her
husband-to-be with a puzzled expression, obtaining only an uncomfortable smile
in return. He seemed desirous to let the matter die. As he offered his arm to
join the rest, Elizabeth
was left to wonder if the colonel’s assurances were true. They could not
be. She was absolutely certain that Mr. Darcy was not an admirer of her musical
talent and the proof had been the gentleman’s apathy and general lack of
attention whenever she played or sang. Could she have been wrong? With a shake
of her head, she discarded the idea entirely and proceeded with the conviction
that her illustrious fiancée had never been keen on her performance.
Constant
interruptions and a house crammed with guests made almost impossible for Elizabeth to call apart
her fiancée and discuss the matter that has been the cause of so much distress
during the past weeks in privacy. When she was not busy helping her mother
attending their guests, Darcy was engrossed in conversation with the other
gentlemen and she could not approach him. The groom-to-be was also desirous for
some moment alone with his fiancée, although for entirely different reasons.
After a month’s separation, all he wanted was to show her how much he had
longed for her in these weeks they had been apart.
The morning passed
in that fashion, lunch reunited them all at the dining room and coffee
afterwards divided the party in different rooms of the house. Elizabeth was chatting with her cousins when
Darcy brought his coffee cup himself and gave it to her with a,
“Would you
care to join me in private for a moment, Elizabeth?
There is something I wish to tell you.”
Elizabeth made her excuses
and left her party, leading the way to a small sitting room that was rarely
occupied by the family and that, to their fortune, was now empty. As soon as
they entered the room, Darcy pushed the door closed, took her hands in his and
softly kissed her fingers.
“Elizabeth, you know not
how much I have missed you these past days. Will you forgive me for neglecting
you?”
“Your absence
was justified, Sir. There is nothing to forgive. I hope that you are completely
recovered from your cold.”
“I am, I
thank you. Am I forgiven, then?” he murmured lovingly as he stepped
closer.
“You are,
sir.” Elizabeth
smiled faintly. After a moment of hesitancy, she said, “I … I
waited for you last evening.”
The expression she
saw in Darcy’s face was one of such happiness that even Elizabeth found herself mesmerized by this
unusual display of intense emotion. He held her hand in his and asked her in a
most tender, hopeful voice,
“You missed
me?”
“Sir,
I-”
Completely
mistaking her meaning and not doubting for even a second that she had longed
for him as much as he had longed for her, Darcy was consumed by an immeasurable
joy and he completely forgot himself, claiming her lips for a deep, passionate
kiss. Elizabeth
was brought against his solid chest in an embrace that was so feverous that she
was rendered helpless in his arms. He held her tightly and kissed her
fervently, his passion fuelled by her acceptance and reciprocation. For the
first time their ardours were attuned, both tasting and feeling, going beyond
anything they had experienced before. She opened her mouth to his probing
tongue and allowed his hands to press her fully against his body, as her
fingers touched his face and hair. He had never been so unrestrained or she so
cooperative, returning his kisses and caresses with equal appetite.
But as Elizabeth’s initial
surprise faded, so did her responsiveness. While, physically, she did not find
him unpleasant, Elizabeth
was not in love with him and her resentment for being forced into this
undesired marriage was too fresh in her mind to allow her to enjoy the zest
that his embrace gave her. She was torn by opposite sensations, where
abhorrence mingled with sensual pleasure. In her confusion, she was not even
sure why she was permitting this conduct or why she was surrendering to his
seduction so easily. Was this just submission to the man that was exercising
his right to have her? Or was it her own desire for him blossoming inside of
her? She did not know. She only knew that there were moments when me she was as
eager to kiss and desirous to touch but there were times when she wished he
would just let her go.
“Lizzy!
Lizzy!”, Mrs. Bennet’s steps were heard behind the door.
“Hill! Hill! Have you seen Elizabeth?
Oh, where is that girl when I need her?”
The couple ended
their activities abruptly and remained frozen behind the door, looking at each
other with wide eyes. They stayed that way, in a close embrace, until the fading
sounds of steps on the corridor told them that there was no danger of being
caught.
“I think it
would be better if we returned to the others,” she said, flushed and
agitated.
Darcy told her to
go ahead. He needed more time to regain his composure.
At some point in
the afternoon, Elizabeth
was asked to play the piano, a request that she accepted gladly and without
hesitancy. She had been enduring her Aunt Philips’ advice on marriage and
household duties for more than an hour and she was more than desirous to give
up her tedious company. She sat in front of the instrument where she was
immediately joined by Col. Fitzwilliam, who pulled up a chair and sat next to
her.
She had been
playing for five minutes when her fiancée joined them. This was the first time
he approached her after their interlude in the sitting room and Elizabeth was still in
awe at how the gentleman had lost so easily his usual self control in those few
minutes they had been together. He had seemed unable to meet her eyes and practically
turned his back to her as he asked her to quit the room. Elizabeth was not completely unfamiliar with
certain reactions that were inherent to his sex --though she had never been
this close to a man to experience them, not even on their previous meetings--,
and wondered if the exchange had affected him to that degree. This led to her
pondering if her power over him was bigger than she had imagined. Her devilish
side told her that that was exactly
the case. So, thus stimulated by a sensual surge which her fiancée’s
caresses and kisses had induced into her, Elizabeth, in her best spirits, was
tempted to use her new power against him, and set out to tease him, knowing
that just a little provocation would suffice.
“Mr. Darcy,
do you mean to frighten me, sir, in coming all this way to hear me?” She
smiled coquettishly, “I may not have your sister’s proficiency, yet
my stubbornness will not allow me to stop, even if my performance does not meet
with your approval. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate
me.”
“I
didn’t know that was possible,” Darcy returned her smile.
“So you deny
that that was your chief purpose?”
“You cannot
believe me capable of that.” Her fiancée responded playfully, also in an
excellent mood, “though I believe I know your disposition well enough to
say that, occasionally, you find pleasure in expressing opinions that are not
your own. Am I wrong?”
“How
shocking, sir!” Elizabeth
laughed at his precise description of herself. “You have just told your
cousin not to believe a word I say. That is very ungenerous of you, Mr.
Darcy.”
“I speak
nothing but the truth. Take this conversation as an example. No one admitted to
the privilege of hearing would find anything wanting in your executions, yet here
you are accusing me of disliking them. The truth is, madam, I have always found
all your performances exceedingly
enjoyable, something of what you are perfectly aware, as my cousin acquainted
you with this particular when I introduced him to you earlier in the
day.” Darcy enunciated with a daring smile. “So who is the one that
is being ungenerous?”
Elizabeth did not shy away
and replied with that sweetness combined with archness that her future husband
had always found so enchanting, “beware, Mr. Darcy, you are stepping into
dangerous ground. You are provoking me to retaliate and expose your true
character to your cousin.”
“Pray let me
hear what you have to accuse him of,” the colonel begged, amused at their
playful banter. Even if this marriage was arranged, the sparkles were
undoubtedly there. He had never seen a young couple better suited for each
other. Darcy looked so much more alive when in his fiancée’s company and
Miss Bennet seemed enchanted by her betrothed’s presence. “I know
my cousin to be the possessor of a very fastidious nature. I’d like to
know how he behaves among strangers.”
“Should I
tell him, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth
looked archly at her fiancée. “This knowledge may shock your
relations.”
“I am not
afraid of you, madam.”
Accepting the
challenge, Elizabeth
continued. “We met at a ball. Let us say that he did not look comfortable
when he first arrived at the Assembly Rooms. He only danced four dances, never
sought an introduction and only spoke to those of his party.”
“Darcy!”
laughed the colonel, “when will you learn? Balls are amusements!”
“You know I
do not share your talent of conversing easily with people you have just
met.”
“I beg to
differ,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. “You have the ability; you
will just not take the trouble.”
The gentleman half
smiled. His cousin knew him too well.
“Mr.
Darcy.” Mrs. Bennet called him from the card table, startling the young
couple. “Will you not join us? We need another player.”
Darcy, repressing
the urge to roll his eyes at the interruption, glanced at this cousin with
pleading eyes. “Fitzwilliam?”
“Oh, no
cousin, I decline the honour,” the colonel shook his head. “You
know I am not fond of cards. And you are far better player than I. Go you, you
must not keep your mother-in-law waiting.”
The proud
groom-to-be hesitated for a moment, but at Mrs. Bennet’s second summon he
had no other choice but to accept the annoying lady’s request. Elizabeth was observing
him too closely and he knew it would appear extremely rude to slight the mother
in front of the daughter. He squared his shoulders and joined her at the card
table, grateful that tomorrow he was leaving Meryton and its inferior
population forever.
Elizabeth then found herself
alone with the gallant colonel. “Well, Col. Fitzwilliam, what do I play
next? My fingers await your
orders.”
The colonel asked
her to play a simple Scottish air. As her hands moved deftly along the
keyboard, the conversation proceeded in the following manner,
“Is your
family in London
at the time?”
“No, they are
in Oxford for
the winter. They have a residence there.”
In having so little
information about her new family, Elizabeth
had a plethora of questions to ask the good natured gentleman. Her fiancée had
not extended himself much on the subject and all she knew about them was that
they were wealthy, that the colonel was the second son of an Earl and that
Darcy’s aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh --known by her authoritative
temper—had expressed her disagreement with Darcy’s choice of wife.
This was a matter of great concern for Elizabeth
because, in some way, she felt slighted by their absence. She feared that their
contempt –if that was the reason why they were not attending their own
nephew’s wedding-- would be just another stone in the rocky road that
already was her connexion to this proud man.
“You and your
cousin seem to be very close, Col. Fitzwilliam.”
“We have
always been, since our childhood,” said the colonel. “I like to
visit him whenever my duties in the Regiment allow me some spare time. I also
share the responsibility of the guardianship of Miss Darcy with William, so, as
you see, we have many interests in common.”
“Indeed? Mr.
Darcy told me she has just turned sixteen. Pray, what kind of guardians do you
make? I know from experience that girls her age might be difficult to handle.
Does she give you much trouble? Because if she is anything like her brother,
I’m sure she probably likes to have her own way in everything.”
The colonel’s
face sobered as he stared at Elizabeth
in a way that made her wonder why he should be uncomfortable with the subject.
He did not reply immediately and seemed to ponder his next words with great
care.
“You need not
to be frightened, madam, this is not the case. Georgiana is a sweet girl. She
will give you no trouble. I grant you.”
Elizabeth realized that her
statement has been misinterpreted and quickly tried to rectify her words.
“I am sorry, Sir, I fear I have expressed myself very ill. It was not my
intention to insinuate that Miss Darcy was ill tempered.”
The colonel
exhaled, realizing where her fears resided. “Do not trouble yourself on
that account, madam. Miss Darcy is most tractable. But you were right when you
described my cousin’s disposition. He likes to have his own way very well.
But so we all do. In his case, though, it is much easier, because he’s
rich.”
And rich people enjoyed the power of doing whatever they
wanted, was Elizabeth’s
immediate thought. Her marriage on the following day was a painful example of
that.
Elizabeth
returned her attention to the pianoforte and played the rest of her song in
silence. The colonel then selected the next one. It was not a difficult song
and it allowed her to continue with their conversation.
“I have heard so much about Miss Darcy. She is a
great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, who only had words of
praise for her; Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley.
Do you know them?”
“I do, a
little. I am better acquainted with their brother, Mr. Bingley, a very pleasant
man and a great friend of Darcy’s.”
“They are
indeed good friends.”· Elizabeth
said dryly. “I have seen that Mr. Darcy takes prodigious care of
him.”
“My cousin
always takes prodigious care of those he cherishes. He’s exceedingly dedicated
to his friends and family.” That comment was delivered with a meaningful
glance in her direction, to which Elizabeth
responded with a blush and by averting her eyes from the colonel’s.
“Bingley lost his father at a young age and Darcy became a sort of mentor
for him. He usually takes care of him in those
points where he most wants care.”
Elizabeth raised her
eyebrows, her curiosity awakened. “Pray tell, what points are those? Mr.
Bingley is a man of fortune.”
The colonel was
perfectly aware that it was Bingley’s capricious heart what usually kept
Darcy on his guard. Still he thought that sharing this knowledge with Miss
Elizabeth would be extremely inconvenient. “Indeed he is, and a most
shrewd business man, I must say. Yet he has the tendency to get himself into
scrapes of some sorts. Usually Darcy is there to help him when matters get
rough on that edge. From what I’ve heard, my cousin’s good advice
served Bingley very well recently. I believe he is very much indebted to
him.”
Col.
Fitzwilliam’s disclosure, though vague and imprecise, was immediately
connected with the events occurred in November, when the
‘courtship’ between Jane and Mr. Bingley was abruptly interrupted
by the departure of the Netherfield party. It had to be that, Elizabeth was almost certain of it, because
if Mr. Bingley was a successful business man who did not need his
friend’s advice on that field, then his deficiency had to be related to
more personal and intimate matters. His heart, perhaps? Elizabeth needed confirmation that her
assumptions were correct, therefore she insisted.
“Scrapes? I cannot imagine Mr. Bingley
involved in a fight! He seems to be a very kind, sensible man.”
The colonel laughed
at her immediate and completely inaccurate conclusion. “Bingley cannot kill
a fly, I grant you, less enter in a scuffle of any sort. He’s a most
pacific person and the possessor of a great heart.” With a sigh, almost
as an afterthought that he had never intended to voice aloud, he added,
“I fear that that is the area
where he most wants care.”
Elizabeth was now more
certain that her deductions were right. “So he has an inconstant
heart.”
“Let us say
that in romance, he tends to flick like a candle in the wind. He’s
fortunate that Darcy is usually there to advise him before he precipitates
decisions he would surely regret. Not long ago he dissuaded him from making a
most imprudent mistake; one that I assume would have caused Bingley great
suffering.”
Elizabeth silently pondered
the implications of this last statement. The colonel, after watching her for a
moment, enquired why she was so thoughtful.
“I was
meditating on what you just told me. What was so objectionable about this lady
that Mr. Darcy had to interfere?”
“I honestly
don’t know, madam. My cousin was very discreet on the matter; therefore I
assume he does not want it to be generally known.”
The information she
had just received could not be clearer and she instantly deduced that this lady
the colonel was referring to was Jane and the ‘imprudent decision’
from which Mr. Bingley had to be dissuaded must have been the marriage proposal
he was planning to make to her dear sister. The gentleman, though unaware of
it, had just confirmed one of Elizabeth’s greatest fears: that Mr. Darcy
had indeed been the one responsible for taking Mr. Bingley away from
Netherfield with the only purpose of separating him from her sister Jane.
“I did not
know that Mr. Darcy had the right to determine in what manner his friend was to
be happy.”
“I hope you
don’t suppose his interference officious,” he chuckled. “I am
certain that whatever is that he did, it was done with the best
intentions.”
Though this was
said in jest, Elizabeth
could not bring herself to reply without expressing how she truly felt about
her future husband. She looked at Jane and her heart swelled with indignation
for what Darcy had done to her sister.
Her only question
was ‘why’? Why was he doing this? She understood why he was
espousing her, it was his duty after what he did, but why Jane? What harm had
she inflicted upon him to wish her this misery? What were those strong
objections based on? Jane was all goodness and loveliness! She could not find a
reason that would justify such abominable behaviour towards her sister. For
Elizabeth, it was his capricious pride and selfishness that had not only ruined
her own life by forcing her into this marriage, but also, for no reason at all,
had destroyed the happiness of the most generous soul in the world.
Elizabeth could not concentrate
in the piano anymore. The room started to spin about her at such speed that she
thought she would become ill.
“Miss Bennet, are you unwell?” Colonel
Fitzwilliam frowned in concern. She had turned exceedingly pale.
“I am not,
worry not. ‘Tis I am just a little tired, is all. This has been a very
long day.”
“True. I
think it is time for us to leave. Remember, we have a wedding to attend
tomorrow morning,” he said with a gentle smile that Elizabeth forced herself to return.
Elizabeth was in such state
of distress that she did not know how she was going to find strength to stand
and join the others. She could not think, she could not breathe. Tomorrow she
was marrying a monster.
To her relief,
Darcy announced his leave not much after that. Dutifully, Elizabeth accompanied his party out of the
house and said her farewells to them at the door. Col. Fitzwilliam headed
toward the carriage, leaving Darcy a moment in privacy to say goodnight to his
bride.
“Elizabeth,” he took
her hand in his. “We are to be married tomorrow. I want to tell you that,
despite the circumstances and everything that had happened between us, I am
very happy with this union.” She refused to meet his eyes so he
misinterpreted her discomposure for nervousness for the wedding. “My dear.”
he raised his hand to caress her cheek. “There is nothing to fear.”
Elizabeth almost shuddered
in repulsion.
Darcy raised her
hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on it. “Until tomorrow, my
love.”