Page 22 of Such Persuasions as These (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
CHAPTER TWENTY
W hen Elizabeth entered Jane’s room, she was heartened to find her sitting up, sipping tea, her cheeks having gained some colour. On the side table was a plate whose crumbs indicated that Jane was eating again.
“You look better,” she told her as she sat on the edge of her bed.
“I thank you, I believe I am. I should like to return home tomorrow; I have trespassed upon Mr Bingley’s kindness long enough.”
“I am sure Mr Bingley thinks no such thing,” Elizabeth rejoined, attempting a levity she did not feel. A smile flitted across Jane’s face before being replaced by a furrowing of her brow.
“Oh, Lizzy, you have cared for me so diligently. You look fatigued. I hope you are not overtaxing yourself.”
“I am fatigued, Jane, but not from caring for you,” she answered, taking her sister’s outstretched hand in her own.
“It is my conscience that wearies me. I have acted so foolishly, and now I fear I shall not be able to bear the consequences.” Her face was aflame, and tears pricked her eyes as she spoke.
Jane set her cup down and leant in to offer her other hand to her beloved sister. Her brows were knitted and her eyes held deep concern. “What could you have done that is as bad as all this?”
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, then told her all that was weighing on her heart: how she had deceived Mr Darcy; how he had made it clear that he could not forgive dishonesty, that he felt it was an irremovable blight on one’s character that he could not look past; how she now knew that if she could not keep his friendship, it would be as if she had no air to breathe.
“Dearest Lizzy, if Mr Darcy is all that you say he is, then certainly he will forgive you once he understands the whole of the matter. Surely, he is charitable enough to extend such basic Christian kindness towards one for whom he has so much regard.”
“He may regard me now, Jane, but no. Once he discovers that I misled him, any respect he has for me will wither; he will set me down as another one of those women who will engage in all manner of subterfuge to gain the attention of a wealthy gentleman. I have heard him speak with undisguised abhorrence of the tactics tried on him by the young ladies of the ton .”
“I am sure he will not lump you in with such mercenaries. He certainly knows your character well enough to understand that your motive was pure.”
Sweet, sweet Jane. She sighed. If only I could be as sure that Mr Darcy would be so forgiving .
“Bingley, it seems I shall have to disabuse your sister of the notion that I shall someday attach myself to her,” Darcy stated plainly, unwilling to allow any room for misunderstanding. “It would be a shame for her to lose another Season reaching for something she shall never have.”
He spoke this as kindly as he could, while assuring his friend by his tone of the absoluteness of his statement. Elizabeth’s mistaken conclusion that he and Miss Bingley had a secret understanding had unsettled Darcy greatly, and he could not allow another day to pass without addressing it.
“No, no. I should be the one to tell her,” Bingley said after some amount of squirming. “I ought to have been more frank with her before now. I shall speak to her today and command her in no uncertain terms that she must desist in this…endeavour.”
Darcy was unsurprised at Bingley’s frank acknowledgment of his sister’s ambitions. He had given the young woman no encouragement beyond the barest civility, yet she simply would not be deterred. It was time Darcy’s position towards her was made perfectly clear.
“While we are on the subject of your sister, Bingley, there is another thing I wish to address,” Darcy began cautiously. “Perhaps you have noticed that she is less than thrilled with our current company.”
“To say the least,” Bingley replied. “Why, she is positively beastly to poor Miss Elizabeth.”
“If you have noted her spiteful behaviour, why do you allow it to continue?” Darcy asked, taken aback. He had honestly thought Bingley too distracted to have seen it, or else his friend would have attempted to curb his sister’s hostility.
“I do not allow Caroline to do anything,” Bingley cried. “You know she is ungovernable when she sets her mind on something. She has decided that the Bennets are worthy of her malice, and so she treats them as such.”
“Yes, but her ill temper shall have a detrimental effect on you and your reputation. If you do not take the trouble to check her, you will reap the bounty of her maleficence.”
“And how do you suggest I do that? You know she holds only to her own counsel. Even Louisa can say nothing to direct her.”
“If she will not listen when you speak, perhaps she will be more malleable in the face of action. Do you not hold her purse strings? Would not a threat to her allowance impel her to be more compliant?”
Darcy spent the rest of his day attempting to finish correspondence in his quarters. His writing desk was a comfortable and well-stocked one, thanks to Bingley. He was able to finish half a letter at a time before his thoughts were again and again drawn away from his task.
Why was Elizabeth so out of sorts? Should she not be ecstatic to be reunited with the holder of her heart?
Could it be that Captain Wentworth, worthy though he might be, was no longer its keeper?
Could it be that she was not as eager to be joined to the man as she once was?
Or was he only seeing what he wanted to see?
He finished the letter to his steward and enfolded the instructions the man had requested regarding crop distribution and pasture changes, pleased to have that important business done in plenty of time for said plans to be implemented before his return in the early spring.
Ah, Pemberley in the spring.
His mind flashed forwards to sitting in his coach as it rolled up the long drive through the park.
He could see the old stone fence that once held beef cattle, but was now just a remnant of a past his father had not wished to forget.
As the coach passed the orchard, he could smell the apple blossoms. He turned to the seat across from him into the beaming face of his sweet Georgiana.
She loved the scent of the orchard in spring as much as he.
Soon, the trees parted and there it stood: Pemberley in all its glory.
In his vision, he heard a gasp come from beside him on the squabs. When he looked over, he revelled in the delight on the lovely face of his companion.
It was Elizabeth.
She was there, by his side, taking in the grand view of her new home.
No. He must not think such things. She was an engaged woman.
Engaged, not to a despot or a blackguard, but to an industrious and conscientious captain in His Majesty’s Navy—a man whose reputation and character were above reproach, and who was as good as his word.
He said he would return when he had made something of himself, and here he was; no sooner had he been given command of his own vessel than he was here to claim his bride. He was a real man of honour.
Darcy could not even contemplate tempting this respectable man’s intended away from him.
He would not be able to live with himself.
On second thought, then he would have Elizabeth, and what crime would not be worth such a prize?
No . He simply had to control his emotions and his behaviour; he would not be the cause of a rift between these two lovers.
At this resolution, he went back to his writing; he had never finished his letter to Georgiana, and there was no better time than now.
Darcy reviewed the contents of his missive thus far and was distressed to find that he had mentioned Miss Elizabeth several times.
He had even omitted the ‘Miss’ once. He could not send this.
No, he must start afresh and leave her out of it except for the barest mention of having been in her company.
Then he recalled that he had sent his sister several letters since his arrival at Netherfield—what had he already betrayed?
How often had he already spoken of the lovely woman who had so comforted and captivated him? What had Georgiana already concluded?
He could not help that now. He could only direct the course of her thoughts from this point forwards.
He finished the letter he had started by informing his sister that Miss Elizabeth’s intended was visiting Meryton, and that, since the captain would be much at sea in the future, he hoped the two ladies could meet someday.
Yes, Darcy thought she would be just the right friend for his sister.
Just the right friend? Again, he was fooling himself.
Who were Elizabeth Bennet’s connexions? What were her accomplishments?
Who were her aunts and uncles? How could a woman like Elizabeth be just the right friend for his sister, an heiress from the heights of society, to whom the most refined and noble ladies of the ton would one day look for inspiration and guidance?
How could her friendship benefit his sister at all?
Reminding himself of her unsuitableness brought Darcy a measure of relief. Even if there was no Captain Wentworth, Darcy would never be able to bring the pretty Miss Elizabeth home to his relatives.
How Lady Catherine would scold him upon introducing her; she would be merciless. Then again, if he were to marry anyone but his cousin Anne, that lady would be nigh on apoplectic, so perhaps her sentiment was not one to consider.
But Lord and Lady Matlock—they had made it quite clear what kind of woman they expected him to wed by throwing at him every well-connected maiden of fortune in London Season after Season, without regard to temperament or character.
If he were to take this penniless country lass, their disappointment would be immense.
On the other hand, the earl and countess had great affection for him. Would they not rather accept an undesirable bride than risk alienating their most-favoured nephew?
Without a doubt, ton society would ostracise him were he to appear at Almack’s with a complete unknown from the wilds of Hertfordshire.
What a punishment that would be , he thought, to have to spend less time among the prigs and pretenders of London.
He groaned aloud as he threw down his quill and rubbed his face with both hands.
This was getting him nowhere. He could not focus.
He needed a distraction, and the library was certainly out of the question.
He could not risk meeting her again today; he might be tempted to say more than he ought. No, he needed to be out of doors.
A few minutes later, his valet arrived in answer to his bell.
“My riding clothes. Directly.”