Page 70 of Sketching Mr. Darcy
D arcy yelled at Stevens to have the carriage prepared. He was not certain where he wished to go—as far away as possible so as not to be tempted to return and continue their fight.
He exited the front door, waiting for the carriage in full cold, hoping the chill would sharpen his exhausted mind.
He could not believe what had just happened and wondered whether it were not a nightmare, as he had not slept for so long.
A sharp pain bound his temples. The headache had started halfway home from Box Hill.
He counted three sleepless nights, starting with the one spent in conversation with Elizabeth, two on the road and several others before, when he could find little rest for thinking of her.
All his restless nights were because of her since he was a complete fool and allowed himself to be defeated by those childish, unreasonable feelings for a woman who cared so little!
He had travelled back with his eyes mostly closed, imagining how she would receive him, how he would have a warm bath and lie in bed—and perhaps she would wish to stay by his side—just to keep him company, to allow his sleeping body to sense her presence, to feel her warmth.
What a ridiculous fool, to beg a few shreds of attention from a woman who—in the end—was obliged to give him anything he might ask.
Anything—except the feelings and affection he waited and hoped for.
Such a fool he had been to hope that would change!
Yes, she had been kind, gentle, and even tender with him lately—and he sensed that she enjoyed his attentions.
Of course, she did—those sorts of activities were pleasant for any woman.
But that was not much—not more than any other woman would feel with any man under similar circumstances.
And surely not what he expected from her!
She held no special feelings for him, nor was she offering him anything special! She had become more at ease in his company, but she was even more at ease in the company of other men whom she barely knew!
It was very likely that she believed what he told her about both Wickham and Clayton, and perhaps she did not trust any of them, but she still seemed to be delighted by their company!
And of course that was not surprising—many other women did!
Handsome cads with no honour but with charming manners seemed to be the great favourites of ladies!
She dared to insist that it was a mere coincidence. How much of a fool did she think he was?
That Clayton found out about the planned visit during the opera was not impossible.
Was it possible that her open manners had induced him to believe she was favouring him?
It was not unlikely: the same thing happened with him in Hertfordshire.
Still—the effrontery of that man! Did he have no boundaries?
Surely, he would not be allowed to dance with Elizabeth ever again—if they even attended a ball in the future.
He briefly remembered the dress he ordered for her and wondered how it would fit. Then he grew angry with himself for such shallow thoughts. A moment later, he wondered whether Clayton had already seen her wearing the dress, and his anger grew stronger.
The carriage was finally ready, and Darcy entered, suddenly realising that it was very cold and asking the coachman to just drive around the Town. From the corner of his eye, he spotted the window to Elizabeth’s room opening, and he wondered whether she was looking after him—but he did not see her.
She seemed so offended by his words, but what other explanation could there have been? To meet both Clayton and Wickham by chance? It was stupid to even imagine such a coincidence!
She accused him of not allowing her to speak her mind, but what was there to be said?
Perhaps he was unfair to accuse her of not caring for Georgiana, but at least she surely had been neglectful when she went to meet that man.
Even if she did not have harmful intentions, just speaking to him was bad enough!
It was hard to imagine that Wickham happened to be in Town precisely during those days when he was away.
Was it possible that Elizabeth intentionally wrote to him in Hertfordshire?
No, that would not do. This was already madness. She never gave him any reason to doubt her loyalty. Her behaviour was always beyond reproach—until that day! And yet, she was the one who said that, had she wanted to meet someone behind his back, she could do it, and he would never know.
How could she say such outrageous things? Would an honourable wife say that? And she dared accuse him of not being a good husband! If she were a proper wife, she would have apologised and remained silent. She would not have dared answer in such a way.
Instead, she put the blame on him and twisted his words, suggesting he was dishonourable and implying he might impose himself on her just because he was the master! Had a woman ever been more unfair?
He closed his eyes as the sun seemed too strong. In silence and darkness, he recollected, moment by moment, what had happened since he saw her in front of the shop.
A cold pit opened inside his stomach—either from hunger, as he had not eaten much in the last two days, or from the disturbing revelation that the words he threw in her face were indeed ungentlemanlike.
Even if she were to blame and even if his anger was justified, he did say things that should have not have been said.
She did too, but he was the one who started it.
He briefly considered returning home, sleeping, and starting the entire conversation again.
And perhaps he should see what Georgiana wanted from him, but he did not feel composed enough to speak to his sister—nor with his wife.
And no, he could not return home. He could not picture himself finding sleep and rest a few steps away from her.
He suddenly opened his eyes, knocked on the wall, and gave the coachman a new direction.
***
Elizabeth entered Georgiana’s apartment and was astounded to see the girl crying on the bed and Mrs Annesley unsuccessfully attempting to comfort her.
“Mrs Annesley, I thank you for your care. You may go and rest now. It has been a difficult day for us all. I will stay with Georgiana.”
Mrs Annesley seemed reluctant to leave, but at Elizabeth’s encouraging smile, she did.
“Oh, Elizabeth, I am so sorry! Please forgive me…”
“What is wrong, dearest? Why are you apologising? It is I who feel sorry for the way William spoke to you. He is completely irrational.”
“Oh no, he is not to be blamed. I knew he would be upset if he saw Mr Wickham. It was entirely my fault… Now what will happen? William will blame Mr Wickham, I am sure, but he did nothing wrong. And I am so sorry that William yelled at you because of me! I wanted to talk to him when we got home, but he dismissed me and…”
The girl’s voice was trembling, and Elizabeth barely understood her meaning. She embraced Georgiana then, finally, revelation struck her! Was it really possible ?
“My dear, let us speak calmly from the beginning. Tell me why you think it was your fault.”
“My brother is upset with me, but I am certain you can understand me better. I have known George all my life and— Do you notice that our names are similar? I grew up with him at Pemberley. He was always so nice to me… He is so handsome and he is the most pleasant and amiable man I have ever met. And last year, George proposed to me, and he knew William would not approve, and George asked me to elope and marry anyway… It was so romantic… But I could not upset my brother, so and I told him, and I hoped he would understand, but William opposed it… He said I was too young to marry and I should wait a few more years to be certain of my feelings… He was right, I know that, but it was so hard to bear… And George left before I had any chance to speak to him. I suffered so much from not seeing him again… My brother said George has done nothing worthy and is not responsible enough to have a wife, but I know he can change…”
“Dearest… And have you keep in touch all this time?”
“No…I have known nothing about him for almost six months, and after Christmas, I received a note from him. He sent it by a servant of James, and I was so happy and wrote him back. He wrote me again a few times and… Two days ago, he informed me he was in town and would like to see me, and I did not know how to arrange it. He was staying with James. When I found out about your visit to Madame Claudette’s, I wrote that we would be there at two o’clock…
I meant no harm, only to see him a few moments since William was away and…
Did I do anything so horrible? I hope William will not harm George for that. ”
Tears silenced Georgiana again, and Elizabeth embraced her tightly. What was to be said? Everything she was afraid of when she first heard the story proved to be true. Georgiana was truly in love with that man and still suffering for him.
Her correspondence with a man behind her brother’s back was equally outrageous and dangerous.
But how could she blame a girl of sixteen with the most generous heart for holding such tender feelings for a man related to her childhood, who possessed such an appearance of goodness and such well-developed skills in deceiving and fooling people?
And since her brother did not disclose to her the full extent of Wickham’s character—how could she even doubt him? Would she wipe her affection from her heart if she were told the entire truth? Likely not. Would she be more careful in trusting him? Hopefully yes, in time.