Page 6 of A Letter in the Wind (Mayhem and Scandal Collection #1)
He had read the contents. Even if his looks did not prove it, he had told her upon first greeting one another. This explained why he behaved so strangely at first!
Elizabeth could well imagine that it would be uncomfortable for a gentleman to read of a lady’s heartache. His discomfort did not make him cease reading as he said he read the entire page. Why was that? Was he curious about her regard for his friend? Elizabeth stumbled backwards as realisation struck her. She had begun to exonerate him of wrongdoing toward Jane. She had been incorrect again. He would only have such a keen interest in the matter if he had counselled Bingley against the match.
Darcy reached forward. “Miss Elizabeth—”
Elizabeth held up a hand, silencing him. “You read it all?” Tears began to prick her eyes.
“Yes.”
He swallowed but did not hang his head. She could tell he was not ashamed.
“Then, you know my sister’s anguish. Why?”
He blinked at her words. “Are you asking me if I understood the contents or why I read the letter, or—”
“I am asking why you separated them. Why did you believe you had any right?”
Darcy paled a little at her questioning. “I had watched them and did not believe their regard equal.”
“I do not know how long you have known Mr Bingley, sir, or how much he desires your interference in his affairs. The objective truth is that you have not known my sister for long. You presumed to understand her feelings and were driven by conceit and prejudice!”
“Do not speak to me of prejudice.” He shook his head. “Your mother loudly crowed about the match, which was spoken of as nearly settled in the community. If I waited any longer to extract Bingley, he would have been duty-bound to her regardless of the longevity of either one’s feelings.”
“Mr Bingley did not seem to think it an evil that he would be bound to my sister.” Elizabeth glared at Darcy. “Confess it. The Bennets were not wealthy enough for your taste. We are not well-connected with our relations in trade.”
“That could not be so great of an evil toward Bingley as toward—”
“Toward whom?” Elizabeth lashed out in fury. “As toward yourself? Some friend you are! Even in your friendships, you are arrogant and presuming.” Perhaps Mr Wickham had told the truth about something after all. “I have heard of it before.”
“If you mean Mr Wickham, I would counsel you against believing such a man.”
Elizabeth knew precisely how unreliable Wickham was, but it was not the moment to concede ground. Darcy was cowering behind a weak defence. “I am speaking only of your treatment of Mr Bingley. Did he love Jane?”
Darcy remained mute. Elizabeth stepped toward him and tilted her head to meet his eyes. “Did he love her?”
Something snapped in Darcy’s eyes, and after a moment, he quietly replied, “Yes.”
“And that was not good enough for you.” She shook her head and slowly stepped backwards. Her foot caught in his coat, and she lurched backwards.
He reached her in time, catching her in his strong arms. Immediately, she sprang from him and began peeling the garment off her.
“What would you do if it were your sister?” She asked as she tossed his coat at him. It fell at his feet.
Elizabeth marched off. Righteous indignation propelled her forward and fuelled her. She could feel no cold at this pace and was so determined the forceful gusts barely bothered her. When she reached the parsonage, she remained uncertain of what to do but would not allow another sister to be hurt.
*****
Darcy watched in shock as Elizabeth stormed away from him. Her outrage was a sight to behold as fury rolled off her. He had been so mesmerised by it that he remained locked in position rather than catching his coat. He looked down at the crumpled mass—his poor valet.
Elizabeth had been so angry, so passionate—irrational and explosive. All qualities that he had always condemned. In spite of that, they did not seem like signs of lunacy coming from Elizabeth. Her motivation was love, and for the first time, Darcy could not condemn it. He firmly believed in familial love—a bond formed by blood and rearing. One might love a father or sibling and not always enjoy their company or approve of their choices. Darcy had first-hand experience with both scenarios. But romantic love? He had never seen it persist through offence or betrayal.
She had asked what he would do if it were his sister who was so heartbroken. Well, it had been his sister mere months ago. Georgiana soon realised, though, that George Wickham was unworthy of her devotion. Remorse continued despite the loss of her affections. Thankfully, she seemed pretty well a few days ago. What if Georgiana had loved a man as honourable as he knew Bingley to be? That would be quite another matter. An ideal matter, truthfully.
Darcy shook his head to refocus. If Georgiana loved a man similar to Bingley, what would Darcy have to say about it? He doubted the constancy of such romantic feelings, but he could not doubt the honour or loyalty of either individual. Marriage was a contract, and he knew they would both honour it. Was that the root of his concern? Jane Bennet might be an unfaithful wife?
He winced at the realisation. He had been prejudiced, but not as Elizabeth supposed. That Jane could not bring wealth or connection to the marriage did not help anything, but it was not his primary concern. What had he said to Elizabeth regarding Mrs Collins? Her character seemed established. After all, if she worked so hard to catch Mr Collins and was desperate to change her current situation, it did not seem probable that she would do anything to risk or damage it. On the other hand, Jane was too docile. She was led to Bingley by her mother, and if her own feelings were not touched, then what hope was there? Or worse, what if her feelings changed and nothing else cemented their union? What if their marriage resembled his parents’ catastrophic alliance?
Only he had been wrong.
Jane apparently had loved Bingley and continued to do so. She loved him despite his abandonment and the hurt inflicted by his friends and family. She blamed herself for what others would call his weakness. She desired only the best for him and those he knew. What kind of love was that? It surpassed anything Darcy could comprehend.
Alone in his chamber that night, Darcy continued to mull over thoughts of Jane Bennet and Bingley. His mind bounced from them to Elizabeth and her vehemence. She was beautiful in her indignation. An emotion that had always brought fear now pricked his heart with yearning. Could anyone ever be so desperately loyal and loving toward him?
Since childhood, he had been taught to read his Bible and pray in the morning and again before bed. He maintained this tradition out of respect for his Maker and duty to his family legacy. No one could claim the Darcys irreligious. Recently, his heart had seldom been in it. This evening, he wondered if there would be anything within its pages that might help his troubled mind.
The usual reading for the evening of the twenty-third day of the month would be Deuteronomy 24 and 1 Corinthians 14. However, the schedule differed around certain feasts, such as Holy Week, before Easter. Long ago, churches held services every day of the week. Few parishes followed the pattern; thankfully, Mr Collins did not observe the rite. Darcy could think of few things worse than feigning reverence for that man’s false piety. While the Darcy family had always read scripture at home, it was not done among his Fitzwilliam relations. Therefore, Lady Catherine and Anne were uninterested, leaving Darcy to much-needed solitude in his room. He thumbed open his Bible to the appropriate passage for the Monday before Easter.
Darcy read through the portion in Lamentations with rigid practice. It was all about the sin and doom of the world, not a surprising topic for the week of Easter. Surprisingly, the second lesson in John 14 struck him. It opened with:
If ye love me, keep my commandments.
This brought Darcy up short. What a strange demand from Jesus Christ. His entire reason for coming was because humanity could not keep God’s laws. Was not the Earth full of people through history who loved God but could not keep His holy edicts?
Jesus said that those who received the Comforter would see the Spirit of truth, and it would dwell within them. That was how God’s instructions were to be kept. Then, He explained that all that loved Him would keep His commandments. Was the indwelling of the promised Comforter as simple as a desire to love and please the Lord?
Darcy considered the reading of First Corinthians from the previous evening. Charity is patient. Charity is kind. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. People over-quoted the passage and used it to simplify human love. He nearly closed the Bible and walked away, but something urged him to look at it again. This description seemed impossible to attain. Despite this, Saint Paul expected it of every Christian. How would they display their love for God if that was how they should treat their fellow man? Paul said there was more to it than rote memorisation and attending weekly services.
Two particular points arrested Darcy. Real love did not boast and was not arrogant. He knew pride had always been a failing for him. Additionally, the passage explained that love rejoiced in the truth.
Was Darcy guilty of not loving the Lord because he stubbornly clung to justifying his dishonesty? Though, if it was so, would he be conscious of that? Would he care that he displeased God? What told him his actions were wanting if not that Spirit of truth? That must be why it weighed on his mind so frequently. He knew he had done wrong; today vindicated that more than ever.
He turned back to John 14. The passage ended with Jesus’ words promising peace to those who loved and trusted in Him. Darcy’s loss of peace correlated with his recent sins. He closed his Bible and prayed for forgiveness and direction. How could he make it right if he did not fully understand the emotions leading his friend and Elizabeth’s sister?
When he awoke the following day, the question continued to plague him. He found his answer in John 15:12-14.
This is my commandment, That ye love one another, as I have loved you. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you.
There was no way for Darcy to make matters right without exposing his pride and stupidity. He would have to crucify that part of him. Did not the one he cared for most already know of his error?
Darcy squeezed his eyes shut in remembrance of Elizabeth’s angry—even disappointed—visage. It would haunt him until he saw her again. That cursed pride attempted to rise up and ask why he should covet her good opinion. The scripture he had read echoed an answer in his mind. A greater love hath no man than this.
Instantly, fear gripped his heart, and a cold sweat filled his palms. He loved Elizabeth? How could he when he did not understand such romantic feelings? Nay, he did not even believe in romantic love. But for who else would he humble himself this way? It was one thing to privately repent or apologise to one he directly wronged, such as Bingley—or even Miss Bennet—but he was willing to sacrifice his conceit for Elizabeth’s sake. He found that it was the easiest thought of all. Had she not provoked him repeatedly, and yet he never took offence? Had he not excused her folly and errors?
As he forced his breakfast down, he made a decision. It gave him a modicum of peace but none of the joy promised in the scriptures for following God’s commandments. He would confess it all to Elizabeth and then leave Rosings directly after Easter. Then, he would never see her again.