Page 13 of The Painting (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

T he sound of the birds and the waves was the first thing that awakened Elizabeth. She glanced through the window, at the sun that was just rising, a bright spot of light between the clear blue of sky and seawater. It was obviously very early, but she could not sleep any longer.

She quickly dressed and put two pins in her hair, then left the house.

The fresh smell was intoxicating and the colours of the dawn enchanting.

All was empty, quiet and peaceful, only some small waves lapping at the shore.

She walked closer to the water and removed her shoes.

There was nobody around, so she lifted her dress and petticoat and stepped into the foam.

In an instant, the chill touched her ankles, while the spray dampened her gown.

Troubling thoughts threatened to intrude again, but she readily dismissed them, concentrating upon the beauty that surrounded her.

Stepping out of the water, she lay down on the pebble beach, still wet after the storm, with no regard for ruining her dress, and closed her eyes.

Elizabeth startled and jumped to her feet when the sound of steps approaching interrupted her peaceful reverie. She quickly brushed her hands over her gown, which was wet and dirty—and only then did she raise her eyes to observe the intruder.

He stopped—just like her heart. Across the distance between them, their gazes, their hesitation, their restraint and their doubts all ran from one to the other.

Then he moved again, and so did she. He was properly attired—as always—but her appearance was a mess.

Self-conscious, she searched for a way to escape as politely and properly as possible, ashamed by his scrutiny, which she assumed to be highly disapproving.

Little did she know how wrong she was; too mortified to lock eyes with him, she failed to notice his deep admiration and the repressed passion that darkened his gaze.

Eventually, he was close enough to address her, while she kept her eyes on the ground.

“Miss Bennet…I apologise for disturbing you…I did not expect to find anyone here at this hour.”

“Do not worry sir, I should not be here. I was just…I could not sleep and…”

“Yes, me neither…I could not sleep…Forgive me, I forgot to ask yesterday—is your family in good health?”

“My family? Oh yes…I am here with my aunt and with my sisters. All of them.”

“I am glad to hear it. I am here alone…I mean…with Bingley.”

“Oh…”

“Yes…and…if you do not mind, Miss Bennet… Yesterday I told Bingley that I met you and he is eager to come and greet you…I mean, if you approve of it.”

“Of course I do. We all do…It would be a pleasure to see Mr Bingley again.”

A little smile appeared on his face, which only disturbed her more.

“Bingley will be happy to hear that.”

“So will my sister. And my aunt.”

A moment of awkward silence followed, which she broke hesitantly. She knew she should leave, but she could not miss the opportunity to speak her mind.

“Sir, Mr Wickham is here too. With the regiment. For the entire summer.”

He frowned. “Yes, I was told.”

“My younger sisters are staying with Colonel Forster’s wife. Both she and the colonel insisted so Papa allowed it.”

It was enough for him to understand that she did not approve of the arrangement and was not pleased with Wickham’s presence. His face lit up again.

“I truly believe Wickham is not good company for any young lady. But Colonel Forster seems to be an honourable man.”

“I believe the same. Sir, I am grateful that you were so generous as to share with me the truth regarding Mr Wickham.”

Their mutual embarrassment made the conversation awkward and slow.

“I am pleased that you had the wisdom to believe my claims, considering I gave you little reason to trust me. But I expected no less from you, Miss Bennet.”

“I never doubted your honour, Mr Darcy, not even when your actions were hurtful,” she stated. “Now please excuse me, I must return home.”

“Of course.”

Their eyes met for the blink of an eye, then she departed. She felt his gaze following her, and she hurried her steps but suddenly stopped.

Torn between the desire to say more and the mortification of being refused or misunderstood, she hesitated, looking at him. He appeared surprised, waited, then moved towards her.

“Mr Darcy?”

“Yes?”

“If you happen to call together with Mr Bingley, my aunt would be delighted to speak to you about Derbyshire. She grew up in Lambton, which I understand is very close to Pemberley.”

He did not miss the hidden invitation and replied with barely concealed joy.

“Did she? How wonderful! Yes, Lambton is very close to Pemberley. Only five miles away. I look forward to meeting Mrs Gardiner very soon.”

They eventually separated, each going in a different direction but still close enough to feel the other’s nearness.

And to enjoy it, more than either of them imagined.

The dreadful memories, the misunderstandings, the mortification, the guilt, were still all there.

But a brief encounter on the edge of the sea, at sunrise, had been the chance to smooth out a little bit of their rocky past, just enough to allow the present to step forward.

∞∞∞

Bingley arrived for breakfast with a large smile and declared he had a healthy appetite. Darcy was already there, enjoying a cup of coffee while staring out of the window, preoccupied with an image that was only in his mind.

“I will try to see if Miss Bennet is at home after breakfast. Perhaps she will do me the honour of introducing me to her aunt,” Bingley said.

“It is likely that she will be home,” Darcy replied unexpectedly. “I will join you if you still want me to.”

“Truly? Would you? That would be excellent! Excellent, indeed!”

“And later on, if you agree, I would like to introduce you to an old friend, too. Our mothers were close friends and apparently so were we, as children. I do not remember her, but everyone else has told me so.”

“Her?” Bingley asked.

“Yes. Mrs Julia Norwood. She also has two lovely children.”

Bingley threw him an intrigued glance.

“And…is her husband at home?”

Darcy replied with an angry arch of his eyebrow. “Do not speak nonsense, Bingley. I told you she is an old friend and I met her yesterday for the first time in nearly twenty years.”

“Oh, I see. Forgive me…I did not mean to offend you.”

Darcy waved his hand. “Let us forget about it. By the way, she is the pianoforte player we hear.”

“Is she? Truly? She seems as talented as Georgiana. Is that not another extraordinary coincidence?”

Darcy felt unprepared to answer. It was a strange coincidence indeed, that two people closely connected to his mother could claim the same talent.

“So, should we go?” Bingley asked eagerly.

“Let us wait another half an hour, just to be certain we are not disturbing them,” Darcy suggested, although he had to admit his own impatience was hard to conceal.

∞∞∞

Jane looked at her image in the mirror under Elizabeth’s amused gaze. The eldest Miss Bennet was as pretty as she was excited, and her nervousness suited her very well.

Elizabeth’s recent encounter with Mr Darcy and the news that he might call with Mr Bingley threw the entire house into uproar.

Mrs Crawford was so astonished and so happy to have the son of Lady Anne—who she was exceedingly proud to call her friend—visiting her house, that she needed her smelling salts.

Her husband and daughter—not at all acquainted with the lady—were also emotional and anxious.

With her aunt Gardiner also nervous, Elizabeth tried to keep up the appearance of composure, fighting her own distress. Until recently, she had been certain she would not meet Darcy again, unless by chance, and then he would likely try to avoid her as though she was his worst enemy.

No man so harshly rejected, so deeply offended and unjustly accused would forgive his abuser. And a gentleman with such extreme pride and such a resentful temper could even be expected to seek revenge.

However, he had proven to her that she had misjudged him again, as he had been, if not calm or composed, at least very polite, even friendly.

He had shown no resentment, no grudge, but had instead encouraged his friend to visit her sister and had expressed his pleasure at the opportunity to meet her aunt.

As for her, as much as she had dreaded seeing him, when the meeting finally occurred, she was mortified, nervous, but not in the least displeased.

She was content to at least indicate to him that she had read his letter and trusted it and that her opinion of Wickham had changed.

She was certain he had understood her meaning during their short conversation by the sea.

The image of Darcy embracing Mrs Norwood affected Elizabeth more than she was willing to admit, and her speculations about their relationship increased, as well as her shame for entertaining such thoughts.

It was a little before noon when Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley finally arrived. The former became an immediate subject of interest, while the latter was content to sit near the subject of his own interest—Jane Bennet.

Mrs Crawford, with her husband and daughter, and Mrs Gardiner, were happy to engage Mr Darcy in conversation. He responded with his usual restraint and obvious struggle to ease his manners.

“My dear Mr Darcy, you are so tall and handsome—very much like your father,” Mrs Crawford declared.

Upon my word, I have rarely seen a more handsome gentleman.

We have only heard small pieces of news about you from Mrs Clarke, who kept up a regular correspondence with Mrs Reynolds.

She always spoke very highly of you! She said all the ladies were fighting to gain your attention but that you had not found anyone worthy of you!

Well, now that I have seen you, it is no wonder to me! ”