Page 22 of The Painting (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

W hile Bingley headed towards the Crawford cottage, Darcy stopped at the Fitzroys’. From the house he heard voices, so he knocked. Eventually, Julia appeared in the hall and hurried to greet him.

“Dear Lord, where were you yesterday? We were so worried about you! I could only sleep after I saw Stevens and he told me you had returned. Are you well?”

“Yes, thank you. Please, could we speak privately for a moment?”

“Of course. Would you like to come in? My uncle told me you were here yesterday and saved the kitten once again. What shall we do when you are gone?” she jested.

Darcy forced a smile.

“Julia, you did not mention your uncle until now.”

“My uncle? Of course I did. I have lived with him since my mother passed away. As you might have noticed, he needs our care.”

“May I ask…how did he lose his sight?”

She seemed puzzled by his enquiry.

“He suffered a wound in India, in the war. He and my father both joined the army when they were young. They were cousins. Uncle Samuel was only eighteen years old at that time; my father was four years older. They were both injured and were brought back to England on a ship. My father recovered almost entirely and he was offered another commission within the country. I was told they believed Uncle Samuel was healing too, but then suddenly he claimed some headaches and then he slowly began to lose his sight.”

Darcy struggled to catch all the details and put them together. “I assume you were very young then.”

“My parents were only engaged at that time. They married during my uncle and father’s recovery.

“And your father returned to the army, while your uncle remained at home?”

“Yes. For as long as I can remember, Uncle Samuel has struggled with his health.”

“He is fortunate to have you to take care of him.”

“We are fortunate to have him too. Despite his poor health, he has always been a most talented artist.”

“Has he?”

“Yes! He played the pianoforte exceedingly well. And he was even more talented at painting. My mother said even Lady Anne admired his talent very much and they often practiced music or drawing together. Even after he lost his sight entirely, he continued to paint.”

Darcy’s voice trembled as he answered, “Yes, I noticed the paintings. Most of them depict the sea. I assume he has lived here all his life.”

“No, not at all. This is his parents’ home and he inherited it after my grandfather’s death.

But he moved to Bath to live with some relatives when I was an infant.

He said there were better doctors there.

I only saw him a few times when I was very young.

He returned when I was eighteen years old, I believe—and has never left since. ”

When Julia was eighteen, he was fifteen. The year Lady Anne had passed away. It was all clear. What more certainty did he need? It was time to close his quest.

“Thank you so much and please forgive me for all these questions. Please convey my best wishes to your uncle.”

“Are you leaving already? Will you not come in and greet him yourself? He told me he would like to speak to you if an opportunity arose. Please? ”

Darcy was lost for words. He had just decided to step back from the past, but how could he refuse such a plea?

“I would be delighted to introduce myself again, more properly,” he said.

Hesitantly, he followed Julia along the hall. His steps sounded loudly on the floor with no carpet. He glanced around, looking at the paintings again.

“Uncle? Mr Darcy is here. He came to greet you.”

“Mr Darcy. I recognised your steps, sir. Yesterday you left in a hurry; I hope I did not upset you.”

“No, not at all, sir.”

The man hesitantly stretched out his hand and after a moment of confusion, Darcy accepted the handshake.

“Julia darling, would you bring us a drink, if Mr Darcy would be so kind as to join me for a moment?”

Darcy nodded, then pulled up a chair, while studying the man with much curiosity.

“I am not handsome; I never have been,” Samuel Fitzroy said when Julia had left the room. “Do not worry, I shall not detain you any longer than a glass of wine. I just wished to speak to you, in case you had something to ask me.”

Bewildered, Darcy searched carefully for the right words.

“What might I ask you, Mr Fitzroy?”

“Actually it is Sir Samuel. I was made a knight for my bravery, like that would matter to anyone,” he said bitterly. “If you have a question, do not leave it unasked. I feel I do not have much time left.”

Darcy breathed deeply.

“I have no questions. But there is something I wish to tell you. A month ago I found a painting of my mother and in the back of it I found a pile of letters, from more than thirty years ago.”

“Did you?” the man asked weakly, his hands suddenly trembling in his lap.

“Yes. As much as she loved that painting, my mother asked me to burn it when she passed away. I forgot about it until recently; her wish has now been finally complied with. ”

Julia entered with a tray, a bottle and two glasses.

“Please leave us alone a moment longer,” her uncle said.

Darcy filled two glasses and handed one to Sir Samuel. As soon as Julia’s steps faded away, her uncle began to speak again.

“Thirty-three years, one month and twelve days ago, I was on the beach, recovering after an injury and wondering why my sight was blurry and shadowed at times. In full day light I was struck by a vision—the most beautiful woman my imagination could have conjured. I found out that she was the daughter of an earl and had rented an entire cottage, where she was staying with her companion. For weeks I watched her without daring to address her. I finally found the courage to speak to her a month later, when she approached me to look at the painting I was working on. If you must know more, I will tell you. If not, I shall only add that for two and a half years—three full summers—God blessed me with more happiness than a man could imagine and certainly more than most men deserve. I was allowed to admire, to worship, to share my passion for music and drawing and reading with the most wonderful woman. I knew I was not worthy of her, even though she allowed me to write to her and even answered my letters. My beloved late sister was part of our correspondence, but never asked any questions and nobody else suspected our bond. How could anyone even imagine a poor, wounded soldier, with little fortune and a ridiculous title, could be blessed with the love of such a woman?”

He finished his glass and Darcy took it from his hand. “Please fill it again, Mr Darcy. I need it.”

Darcy obeyed and moments later, the story continued.

“Then the day I knew would come arrived. She told me while we played together on the pianoforte, her tears falling on her fingers and mine. She was engaged to be married soon. She was ready to refuse, she was ready to abandon everything for me, she was ready to leave with me, far away from everything.”

Darcy stopped breathing while the man took another sip from his glass.

“But my love knew no selfishness. My wishes meant nothing to me compared with her happiness. I knew she believed she would be happy with me, but I was wise enough to know better. There was nothing I could offer her except my love and devotion—and that was not enough to fight the world, to defy her family and to put her future in danger. I had too little and I was too little for her. So I begged her to prove her love for me by making the right choice. It was the only time that we argued, and her words of disappointment for my weakness still hurt me. She left the next day, but a month later I received a letter—the last one from her—and I wrote back one last time. I knew she would marry a worthy man, of whom everyone spoke highly and who could make her happy if she allowed him to.”

His emotions made his hand tremble so violently that he spilled some of his drink. Darcy tried to take it, but Fitzroy refused.

“I left Brighton after her wedding was announced in the papers. I knew she might return here one day and I could not stand to see her. My sister wrote to me about her regularly, without me asking. I found out she had returned to Brighton with her first child—a handsome boy she adored—and with her husband, who seemed to be the image of affection and devotion. I was told she seemed happy and content. And I was at peace.”

Darcy emptied his glass too, to remove the lump in his throat.

“So you never saw her again?”

“Never. I felt almost grateful that God took away the last of my sight, so I could see only the memories drawn in my mind and in my soul. It was enough for me.”

Darcy put his hand over the man’s.

“She was happy. I truly believe she was. She was surrounded by love and admiration. My father loved her very much.”

“Was she in pain when she…?”

“No. She was only very weak and sad to be leaving us.”

“God is good,” Fitzroy repeated.

“And, sir—you must know; that painting had been in her room for as long as I can remember, till the end. ”

“Thank you for telling me that. I have never dared imagine I would one day speak to one of her children. And yet, here you are, listening to my ramblings and easing my soul.”

“You have eased my soul too, sir. Do not doubt that.”

They shook hands one last time and Darcy left in a hurry. The door closed behind him, like a barrier that separated the past from the future.

While he—a grown man in his late twenties—struggled with his tears, he could feel the burden of such a devastating story pressing on his shoulders, with all the sadness, grief and suffering that had lasted a lifetime.

But he was glad to carry the weight, knowing his quest had ended. And he felt truly blessed too.

∞∞∞

True to his promise to Bingley—and especially to Elizabeth—Darcy went to the Crawford cottage. The party was on the beach, near the bathing machine. Darcy greeted them and immediately congratulated the eldest Miss Bennet.

“Forgive me for being late,” he addressed Mrs Gardiner, although his words were mostly meant for Elizabeth. “I visited Mrs Norwood and was introduced to her uncle, Sir Samuel Fitzroy.”

“Oh, Julia has an uncle?” Mrs Gardiner asked. Stealing a glance at Elizabeth, he noticed she was curious too.

“Yes. The gentleman is rarely out and about, I understand. He was wounded in the war thirty years ago and has lost his sight. A true hero, I would say.”

“It seems you were impressed with this new acquaintance,” Elizabeth interjected and he finally turned to her.

“I was, Miss Elizabeth. He is everything a gentleman should be and even more. I found out he had been acquainted with my mother too and we shared some pleasant, although sad memories. It is lovely weather today, is it not?” he suddenly changed the subject.

“Yes, but the water is surprisingly cold. What would you say to a stroll, for some exercise? I suggested it earlier, but we decided to wait for you,” Bingley said enthusiastically.

“A little exercise would be most welcome,” Darcy admitted, equally delighted but less exuberant than his friend.

As Mary declined and Mrs Gardiner remained to supervise the children, the eldest Miss Bennets and the two gentlemen walked together, along the edge of the water, under the watchful gaze of their aunt.

Slowly, Bingley and Jane outstripped them, while Elizabeth and Darcy remained a little behind.

“How are you feeling?” Elizabeth whispered.

“Relieved. You were right; Julia was blameless. She was complete unaware of… Apparently, only his sister knew there was a correspondence, which was carried out in her name.”

“Did he agree to speak to you?”

“In fact, he requested to meet me again. I spoke to Julia and from the little she told me, I understood my guess was correct. And I had realised I needed no other proof—as you said. But he wished to speak to me. He encouraged me to ask him any questions I had.”

“Very generous and honourable of him.”

“Very much so. I confess I was impressed, Miss Bennet. He is an excellent man, indeed. Such love and devotion was not in vain.”

While they walked, he offered her more details about the tormenting conversation. She was the only one in the world to whom he could speak unrestrainedly on that painful subject, and she allowed his heart and his mind to open in front of her.

She listened to him in silence, while she tried to hide her growing emotions.

“This view is stunning,” she eventually said.

“Further on, just a few minutes on a galloping horse, there is a beautiful place I have discovered. A lovely piece of wilderness, with a bay, some trees and rocks and greenery. I believe you would like it very much. ”

She smiled. “I am sure I would. But how far is it to walk? I assume the carriage cannot get there and as you know, I am a very poor rider.”

“It is too far to walk and I am not certain about the carriage. But I have great hopes that you will see it someday soon.”

“You trust me more than I trust myself, Mr Darcy.”

“I trust you as much as you deserve, Miss Bennet,” he responded, just as Bingley called for them to return.