Page 40 of Sketching Mr. Darcy

“If you are not mistaken, I must have been in error, which I shall not even attempt to deny with the superior information that I have gathered in the meantime. But a month ago, the serenity of your sister’s countenance and air was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction that her heart was not likely to be easily touched.

I had also noticed a great insistence that this marriage shall take place, coming especially from your mother and shared by all your neighbours and friends.

Consequently, I found my young friend in danger of entering into an unequal marriage, into a family who—please forgive me for paining you, but that was my opinion at the time—was beneath him, bonding his life to a woman he admired and fancied to be in love with and who only accepted him to please her family and to secure their future.

It was my genuine conviction that such a marriage would ruin his life.

Everything that passed that evening at the ball confirmed my opinion and urged me to save my friend from what I deemed to be a most unhappy connection.

I briefly spoke to his sisters during the ball, and our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered, and, alike sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortly resolved that I should go with him the next day and they would follow us shortly. ”

“It is strange to hear you speaking of your ‘coincidence of feeling’ with Mr Bingley’s sisters,” Elizabeth interrupted him sharply. He did not reply to her comment but continued.

“We accordingly went—the only exception being the delay due to your accident. His sisters joined him the next day, and as soon as they arrived home, they pointed out to Bingley the certain evils of entering into an alliance with your sister and bringing as the strongest reasoning my opinion. He came to me and inquired what I thought of the situation and especially of your sister’s feelings.

I shall mention that some of the things I held against the union had diminished after the short time I spent at Longbourn in your father’s company.

I found that Mr Bennet was a gentleman who put his daughters’ happiness beyond any advantageous marriage and would never force any of you into an alliance against your will.

Therefore, I was unable to advise my friend against your family—except for connections in society and the lack of decorum of your mother and younger sisters. ”

There was another glance and a short pause before he spoke further.

“I again apologise for offending you, but I wish to speak honestly. My opinion of your sister’s feelings for him and my suspicion that she was willing to marry him for mercenary reasons did not vanish, and I presented them to Bingley.

After that night, I barely saw him at all.

He avoided my company and left London for another friend’s estate.

His change of spirits was obvious, and it made me believe that I might have been wrong in my judgement that it was a mere infatuation.

I planned to speak to him again, but all the events that ended with our marriage, as well as his departure, put a barrier to my resolution.

I am willing to condemn the reasons that governed me to interfere and to make amends.

And I hope you believe me that, if I have wounded your sister’s feelings and yours, I deeply regret it. ”

They were facing each other, their countenances severe, their faces shadowed by distress.

“And I must apologise for my ungentlemanly manner in handling our earlier conversation and for the preposterous things I said. I know they cannot be forgotten or forgiven, either by you or by myself.”

“I must apologise, too. My manners were hardly what they should have been. And I do believe you. I cannot imagine your hurting Jane or Mr Bingley on purpose, but you did, I am afraid. That cannot be easily forgotten or forgiven.”

She wondered whether she should speak further. She heard her voice, harsh and distant, but she could not change that; it mirrored her feelings. It was time for the truth.

“Miss Bingley implied to Jane that Mr Bingley is expected to enter into an engagement with Georgiana. She implied that it was an event already arranged and soon to happen.”

He looked at her in disbelief. “Surely, you are joking…”

“I am not, but now I know that to be another lie from Miss Bingley.”

“Although I would be content were she someday to bestow her affection on someone as worthy as Bingley, such an arrangement never crossed my mind,” he said, troubled.

“Mr Bingley is a worthy gentleman, but that is more than I can say about his determination.”

“Please do not blame Bingley. The fault is entirely mine. I thank you for listening to me. I shall leave you to rest now. Dinner must be ready. Molly will bring you something to eat.”

She stared at the fire a moment as a battle raged between Lizzy Bennet and Elizabeth Darcy.

The former wished to leave the house and wander around the park in the snow, alone with her dog and her thoughts and angry with all those who hurt her sister.

The latter straightened her back and replied decidedly.

“That will not be necessary. I shall be ready and join you for dinner shortly.”

His face lit slightly. “I am glad to hear it. We will be happy to have your company.”

When Darcy left the room, Elizabeth felt a heavy burden lift from her chest and shoulders; she could breathe again. She knew she made the right—no, the proper —decision.

He had come to apologise, and they spoke in a civil manner.

He told her the details of his involvement, even those that embarrassed him.

He admitted his fault and his errors and declared he was ready to make amends.

She could not forgive him, nor could she ignore this new insight in her attempt to understand his true character.

However, the fact that such a proud man saw his wrongs and came to apologise immediately was solid proof that he was neither selfish nor insensitive.

Besides that, she clearly remembered that even Charlotte—who had known Jane for a lifetime—suggested she should show her feelings more openly. If Charlotte had doubts about Jane’s feelings for Mr Bingley, how could a stranger see beyond Jane’s serenity?

In such cases, the man should not have the presumption to interfere, she replied to herself, growing angry again. Surely, he can resist giving his opinion just once in his life.

Elizabeth had little time to think further on what occurred. That was a task for later. For the time being, she was expected downstairs, and she hurried to join the others.

Dinner proceeded more solemnly than on the previous evenings.

Elizabeth’s attention turned from her husband to her sister-in-law.

Once her anger and distress about Jane diminished, the conversation with Georgiana increasingly occupied her mind.

Elizabeth also recollected her husband’s anger when he scolded her not to speak of “things about which you do not know”—a remark that surely referred to Mr Wickham.

She remembered that Wickham described Miss Darcy as a proud and unpleasant sort of girl, and he let her believe that there were no recent connections between them. And yet, Georgiana specifically mentioned that she had seen him a few months ago and she was worried about his well-being.

During their brief talk, Elizabeth was first tempted to believe that Miss Darcy had tender feelings for Mr Wickham and her brother strongly opposed them. But not a single word, gesture, or sign from Mr Wickham suggested that he held Miss Darcy in special regard—quite the contrary.

Elizabeth was inclined to accuse her husband of being unfair to Mr Wickham, and she was certain their mutual dislike was due to disagreements and perhaps faults on Mr Wickham’s part that Mr Darcy had treated more severely than he should.

After all, he did say that he might be called resentful and his good opinion, once lost, was lost forever.

As her uncle Gardiner once said, when two men fight, the truth is never on one side.

However, when it came to Georgiana, Elizabeth could never imagine any misunderstanding. Who could possibly judge her proud and unpleasant? And who could fail to see her kind and affectionate nature? Was Mr Wickham such a poor judge of character? Or was there something more?

Was it possible that Mr Wickham intentionally and meanly spoke ill of Georgiana only because she was the sister of his enemy? If so, what did that say about Mr Wickham’s character? And what did it say about her own wisdom since she believed him entirely from the first?

It was the fourth day of her marriage, and her world became increasingly puzzling.

And she dared not ask the questions for which she wanted answers.

Though her husband told her the detailed story of his involvement with Jane and Mr Bingley, he said not a word about Mr Wickham.

And she had no strength to inquire—at least not yet.

Also, approaching Georgiana directly seemed impossible to consider for the present.

After dinner, at Mr Darcy’s kind request, they moved to the music room. Georgiana searched for a piece to play when she suddenly displayed a timid smile.

“Elizabeth, would you like to play and sing with me?” The girl’s request took Elizabeth so much by surprise that she looked around and knew not what to say. Mrs Annesley warmly supported Georgiana’s suggestion, and Mr Darcy only watched her in silence.

“I would like that very much, thank you, although I am afraid you will regret your invitation as you might be quickly appalled by my poor skill. ”

“I am sure that is not true. William has told me how much he admires your talent.”

“I cannot imagine why he would say such a thing,” Elizabeth answered lightly as she walked to the piano, glancing at her husband who hid a smile behind his glass.

They chose a piece, and Elizabeth sang while Georgiana played.

Elizabeth knew her performance was not very good, and she felt her husband’s gaze on her quite acutely.

Their fight still affected her—and likely him as well.

There were still things weighing heavily between them, and she found herself restrained and slightly embarrassed during her song.

But she lowered her eyes and saw Georgiana’s friendly face and warm smile.

Gradually, she relaxed, and when she finished the song, both Georgiana and Mrs Annesley expressed their admiration. Elizabeth looked at her husband—who sat silently, his face wearing a slight smile. Then she joined Georgiana in her enthusiasm and kept her company for another hour.

Elizabeth had decided to join the family for dinner as a gesture of truce and civility towards her husband and agreed to play with Georgiana to ease her obvious distress.

However, she returned to her apartment at the end of the evening with an easy heart and high spirits.

She congratulated herself for not remaining isolated in her chamber.

After all, she was the mistress of the house, and she had to consider her duties over her personal feelings.

She knew her husband was also pleased with the progress of the evening.

He thanked them both for the lovely music and expressed his hope that such evenings would be oft repeated.

When the ladies retired, he declared he still had some work in the library.

He embraced his sister then bestowed a proper kiss upon Elizabeth’s hand, and held it a moment longer.

“Good night, Mrs Darcy, and thank you,” he said in a low voice, holding her gaze .

“Good night, Mr Darcy.”

Once Elizabeth snuggled within the softness of her bed, thoughts invaded her again.

She recalled the conversation with her husband and with Georgiana, and along with her earlier concerns, something else began to trouble her.

Darcy had diligently pointed out to her all his reasons against an alliance between Jane and Bingley: her family’s improper manners, their poor situation in life, her mother’s unyielding resolve to find good matches for her daughters.

He also insisted that he believed Jane not to return Mr Bingley’s feelings, and he said he could not allow his friend to be trapped and unhappy in a loveless marriage.

But all of those reasons were equally valid in her situation.

Why would her family’s faults not weigh more heavily with regard to him than Mr Bingley?

And, if he doubted Jane’s feelings for Mr Bingley, he surely must know that her feelings were not at all favourable towards him, and yet he proposed to her, ignoring every barrier.

Regardless of their commitment to eventually make a good marriage, he did allow himself to be trapped—in fact, he had built the trap himself—and she could not understand why.

She eventually fell asleep, but her mind, filled with all sorts of dreams, allowed her little rest. As dawn broke, she found herself wondering how many sets her husband would dance with her at the dinner party.

She might have asked him directly had she known that, in the next room, he slept not a moment longer than she did.

The only difference was that, when morning came, she slept soundly while he woke, dressed, and silently went to his library.