Page 72 of Sketching Mr. Darcy

“I went to visit you two days ago as we had arranged, and I had an interesting conversation with Mrs Darcy—uncomfortable and rather unpleasant but quite enlightening—a much more interesting half hour than your scolding me for five years. I am sorry you dislike my friends, but I cannot keep them away from your family. It is your duty to do that. Perhaps you do not like Wickham staying at my house, but he is great at entertaining large parties. And yes, I enjoy playing cards, and I might lose some money, but am I the only one in London doing this? If so, then how is it I always play with a large group of men? I am not certain what Wickham has done, but I am not to be blamed for it.”

Darcy stared at his younger cousin, unable to decide whether to continue or to leave, and since he did not trust his judgment enough for the former, he opted for the latter.

He exited the library and almost collided with Annabelle Stafford in the main hall.

“Mr Darcy—what a surprise! I thought I saw your carriage, and I was not wrong. What a pleasure to finally see you without company!”

She was wearing a charming smile, a satisfied expression, and an elegant dress.

Red-faced, Darcy turned to James—as to show him another proof of imagined guilt—but the latter only shrugged.

“Surely, you see that I could not have called Annabelle. I had no idea you were here. She lives a few houses away and must have spotted your carriage herself.”

“Indeed—and I am glad,” said the lady. “Since you are alone, you have no reason to refuse to speak to me. Surely, you cannot deny me a few minutes of—”

“Annabelle, I am in a great hurry.”

“Oh, you do seem in a poor mood…and your appearance is poor too. Do not tell me that you already have problems at home after less than a fortnight?” she said officiously.

Darcy’s head was spinning. Passing from the cold outside to the warmth of the house, together with a glass of brandy, broke the last trace of his resistance.

He turned to the woman in front of him and took a step forward.

“Annabelle, how little wit do you have that you fail to understand, even after eight years, that I do not wish to speak to you? How is it possible that my dog learnt in a week when to stay away from me, and you cannot stop chasing me around town? I have nothing to say to you! I have no patience, no interest, nor the slightest desire to spend a single moment with you! How can I be clearer? Why is it that you refuse to understand? You now have the means to do anything you want. Take advantage of it, and go do something, but stop annoying me! Good day to you both.”

The door closed forcefully behind him, but neither Annabelle Stafford nor James Darcy—or the doorman and servants gathered behind the doors—moved.

Inside his carriage, Darcy felt relieved. He had not learnt much about Wickham, but he had found the perfect moment to tell Annabelle what was on his mind and, likely, would not have said had he been less tired and angry .

He also told James a thing or two and now was pondering their exchange.

So Elizabeth had talked to James. He wondered what it might have been about and why Elizabeth had not told him about it—then he realised she barely had time to speak before his outcry.

Did he truly do that? Well, perhaps he did, but rightfully so, considering the situation in which he found her and Georgiana.

James kept saying it must have been a coincidence that Wickham happened to be there, but James was always oblivious to the truth and easily deceived by his unworthy friends.

He needed to sleep and then return to speak to Elizabeth.

She must have been very upset too. She looked pale, and her eyes were a little shadowed—the same eyes that seemed to smile at Clayton and Wickham—and he suddenly remembered why he became so angry in the first place.

And Wickham, standing only a few inches from Georgiana, when he specifically demanded that he never speak to his sister again!

Was it possible that Wickham intentionally planned to see not Elizabeth but Georgiana? But how could he have known she would be there? And why did Elizabeth not leave immediately? What would have happened if he had not appeared at that moment?

The carriage stopped at his destination. He went directly to his room and found Stevens.

“Good to see you here. Give me something to change into. I am all dirt from the road. And I need to sleep a little. And a glass of brandy would be much appreciated.”

The servant obeyed and helped him change then handed him a glass.

“Sir, I have a note from Mrs Darcy. She inquired after you several times, and she was very displeased that I did not tell her your whereabouts.”

“Give me the note,” he said, taking it rather abruptly.

“Sir, the mistress is very upset and she seemed unwell…”

“Yes, well, I am glad you informed me of the facts,” Darcy replied sharply, gazing at the paper—a two-page letter with tight writing that made him frown as he started to read.

William,

I choose this way of addressing you because you thought it proper to leave the house, avoiding a reasonable conversation on a subject that had become grave and harmful.

I was very tempted to open this letter by addressing you as ‘Mr Darcy’ because I could hardly feel that I was talking to my husband. However, I believe that at least one of us should think more than feel and finally take proper steps in the right direction.

You gave me no information about your present location, and I find this to show a lack of respect that painfully matches your lack of trust. You have treated me undeservedly harshly for something that was out of my control, and you needed less than a moment to consider me guilty of betrayal although I have done nothing but prove my commitment to you and to this marriage.

I was surprised to see Lord Clayton at the modiste, but I did not consider it proper to leave in haste because of the unexpected presence of a man, even one who seemed to show a certain preference for me and bothered you greatly.

I expect I will meet many other men in the future, and running away from them would be equally stupid and ridiculous—as I would never expect you to flee the presence of any lady in public, even if she openly expressed her admiration for you.

I cannot believe that we even come to discuss such a subject, which I thought to be mutually understood by both of us.

It seems I was wrong—at least in your estimation—as I consider my behaviour to have been beyond reproach.

And, in case you might be interested, I did not show my new gown to anyone in the party, not even to Georgiana, as I believed my husband should be the first to see it.

Little did I know that my husband would be much more preoccupied with offending and accusing me than admiring my gown.

Regarding Mr Wickham’s appearance, I can understand your concern at seeing him in the close presence of Georgiana, and his appearance shocked me to the point of immobility for a few moments.

Had you came a minute before or a minute later, you would have not even found us in his company.

My care and affection for Georgiana I shall not even discuss, as I would not debate my affection for my own sisters.

To know that you imagined I could have deliberately sought out the company of those gentlemen is so absurd that it is laughable to deny it.

Would I accuse you of taking me to the opera for the purpose of meeting Miss Bingley and Lady Stafford?

The difference is that I trust my husband and respect his intelligence enough to dismiss such thoughts.

Since we have married, you have continued to tell me how much you admire me and how grateful you were for my involvement in this marriage, and I cannot argue with your declarations, but I have seen little of these sentiments in your recent behaviour.

Three days ago, I had great hopes for our union—and I have spent all the time since then worrying about and regretting your departure—but this is not how I imagined your return and not how I imagined things would progress between us.

We promised to speak honestly and not rush to hasty conclusions—yet it happened again, and our arguments seem to have become stronger and more painful.

I shall not deny my share of guilt in our fight. My own reaction was not faultless. Perhaps I should have behaved differently, but you left me little choice to think of what was best.

All these unreasonable arguments are more difficult to bear as I felt we were growing closer and I am now proved wrong.

I am not certain what can be done, but I know things are not progressing as they should.

I am more pained and exhausted than I was two weeks ago, and I do not believe I shall be able to go through this over and over again.

I strongly believe that decisions should be made and respected for the benefit of us both.

Elizabeth

Darcy held the paper tightly in his fist as he stared at the fire. He was unable to move, and an enormous weight burned his chest. He attempted to stand, but he fell back into the armchair and opened the letter again.

His fingers trembled, and he could hardly keep the paper straight while he read it again and again—until it was too dark to see.

Then his understanding was finally clear and complete.

With hesitant steps, he moved to the drawer and took out a sheet of white paper then moistened the pen in ink several times before he finally started to write. Be it as she wished.

More than an hour and a half had passed since Stevens left, and Elizabeth could find no rest. She checked on Georgiana who was already sleeping.

Then she took the children and the dogs to play in the back garden for a while, hoping the cold would refresh her and time would pass easier—and she might spot any carriage coming down the street.