Page 9 of The Painting (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
Even at that early hour, Colonel Forster’s house was filled with people and the ladies’ appearance was welcomed loudly and joyfully.
Among the guests, there were several officers with whom they were acquainted and some others who were introduced to them.
To Elizabeth’s relief, Wickham was not among them, so she was able to enjoy her time.
Amongst such a large gathering, there was no opportunity for a private conversation with either the colonel’s wife, or with Lydia. However, the latter began, with little concern for the others in the room.
“Lizzy, I have spoken to Harriet and she agreed that Kitty may come and stay with me! I have my own room and we can share it! And there will be a private ball in three weeks’ time and you may come too!”
“Oh, that would be so wonderful! Thank you, Mrs Forster!” Kitty interjected, tearful with happiness.
Elizabeth frowned but tried to remain calm, smiling politely.
“Lydia, we will discuss this later on. In fact, Aunt Madeline and the children were expecting you to return with us tonight.”
“Return? Where? I cannot leave Harriet; it would be rude of me since she invited me as her intimate friend!”
“I would be sad to lose Lydia’s company,” Mrs Forster declared and Elizabeth exchanged a quick look with Jane. The present situation allowed them no chance to insist further. Colonel Forster, a gentleman with high morals and impeccable manners, intervened with much diplomacy.
“My dear Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, we would be happy to host Miss Kitty too for the next few days. My wife is lacking company while I am busy with my duties. Please be so kind as to allow them to stay, if your father does not disapprove and it does not cause you any inconvenience.”
“What inconvenience? They certainly do not need me at the cottage. It is so boring there, there is nothing to do except for sea bathing!” Kitty replied.
They were already creating quite a spectacle for the other guests, so Elizabeth nodded to the colonel and his wife.
“Thank you. It is very kind of you. I will write to my father and I am certain he will agree to this arrangement for a few days.”
Kitty and Lydia’s joyful cries mortified their eldest sisters.
The colonel gave them a complacent glance, then said with apparent sincerity, “Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, please do attend our little party. It is in three weeks’ time.
With so many officers around, the presence of two lovely young ladies would be much appreciated.
I must insist on this if you do not have any other fixed engagements. ”
His wife insisted too, as well as some of the officers. The entire discussion was already embarrassing, so Jane hurried to put an end to it .
“Thank you, sir, we would be delighted to come,” she said. Elizabeth agreed too. After all, a ball hosted by the colonel could be nothing but enjoyable, despite the fact that she dreaded seeing a certain someone who would surely be in attendance.
Eventually, the eldest Miss Bennets took their farewell and entered the carriage with some reluctance.
Instead of being four, as they had anticipated, they were now only two and Elizabeth’s anxiety returned. However, she realised her concerns were ungrounded. Staying in the colonel’s house and sharing a room with her sister was as safe as possible a situation for Lydia.
“Lizzy, I know you are displeased, but it was truly not possible to take Lydia with us. Considering how much the colonel and his wife insisted, it would have been discourteous of us.”
“I cannot disagree, Jane. Perhaps I have been too hasty in imposing my will. The colonel is a trustworthy man; I should not doubt his guardianship over her.”
“Mr Wickham was not there,” Jane continued.
“And that made our visit much more agreeable,” Elizabeth replied.
Jane chose not to add anything, she only looked out of the window.
The streets of Brighton were full and animated, as well as the shops, the parks, the promenade—everywhere they looked there seemed to be a small gathering, a small party, a place of entertainment.
It was an enjoyable and arousing uproar, to which was added the smell of the sea and a breath of wind that chilled the warm air.
“Should we purchase something for our cousins? And a new bonnet for Mary?” Elizabeth suggested.
Jane hesitated a moment, then agreed. It had been a while since the two sisters had spent any time alone in an unfamiliar environment.
They knew nobody around them but felt comfortable enough to walk by themselves along the street with the shops, admiring the window displays and purchasing small gifts.
When they returned to the carriage, Jane let out a small cry of surprise, startling Elizabeth.
“Jane, what happened?”
The carriage began to move, while Jane struggled to regain her composure.
“Nothing… It is just that…I saw someone who…A gentleman…He looked very much like Mr Bingley.”
“Mr Bingley? Are you certain?”
“Yes… No, I am not certain. I mean, I thought it was him, but I cannot be certain; there were several other gentlemen with him and I only spotted him from behind.”
Elizabeth held her breath for a moment; unwillingly, her mind hurried to make some disturbing connections that she tried to dismiss.
“Gentlemen? Anyone we know?”
“No, of course not. As I said, I must be wrong,” Jane concluded.
Then she fell into a thoughtful silence, which Elizabeth tried to break several times but met with no success.
Watching her sister’s apparent turmoil, Elizabeth’s resentment returned; as much as her opinion of Darcy had improved, it was beyond a doubt that his intervention had hurt Jane and that the wound was still painful.
For that, she could not forgive him, nor his so easily influenced and indecisive friend.
If Bingley was in Brighton, meeting him again could be the best of luck or the most dreadful misfortune for Jane, whose heart seemed to not have healed yet.
During dinner that evening, Elizabeth and Jane struggled to listen to their cousins’ stories. The children were enchanted by their new friends, Annie and James, and eager to share the news in four different voices.
“And Lizzy, they have a puppy! His name is Hunter! Is it not a nice name! Mama, why can we not have a puppy?”
“The puppy belongs to James, and Annie has a kitten—Smudge—because she is white and has a black spot on her head. And blue eyes. I want a kitten too!” Margaret added pleadingly.
“And James is an excellent swimmer! They will come to swim with us tomorrow—their mother said they are allowed to! He will teach me to swim,” George said, while their younger siblings only nodded approvingly.
Despite their effort to engage in their cousins’ enthusiasm, neither Elizabeth nor Jane was in their usual disposition, a fact that did not go unnoticed by their aunt. Later, after dinner, they discussed the day’s events at length, but Mr Bingley’s name was not mentioned.
∞∞∞
Bingley’s plans seemed to have suffered a change, because instead of his presence at dinner, Darcy received a note in his messy handwriting, explaining that Dawson and his friends insisted he must remain overnight.
Apologising for not being able to refuse them, Bingley promised he would return the next day after breakfast. Darcy met the information with an understanding smile and little surprise.
This was Bingley—incapable of resisting his friends’ insistence and always eager to be in the middle of any social gathering.
Darcy had dinner by himself, in the solitude of his chamber.
There was not much he could do, so he wrote to his sister Georgiana, to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and to his uncle, Lord Matlock.
Then he attempted to read but his thoughts were still wandering.
The night was warm, quiet and calm just like the previous one, with the same bright sky.
He gazed through the window, trying to imagine what his mother had felt, there in that chamber, more than thirty years ago.
How had she spent her lonely nights? Who was the recipient of her musings and torment?
He had not had time to gather enough information, but from what Mrs Clarke had said, the families living nearby seemed decent, but simple people.
Could the painter—the author of the letters—be one of them?
Or perhaps someone who just visited them?
Might his quest meet with any success, or was it just another vain struggle ?
Midnight came and went and Darcy still could not sleep. The chamber seemed too hot, the bed too soft, the silence too heavy. Without much consideration, he left the room, then the house, careful not to wake anyone.
Dressed only in his trousers and shirt, he walked through the garden towards the shore. Abandoning his shoes by the gate, he continued across the stones barefoot, closer and closer to the water, then plunged in.
The chill of the sea stirred all his senses and, as he began to swim further from the shore, his torment slowly diminished.
His body, fighting the water, moving towards the moon and leaving the shore behind, became lighter, the tension and pressure slowly disappearing, until he lost track of time and distance.
∞∞∞
The passing of the hours brought no more rest to Elizabeth either. The discussion with her aunt and sisters after dinner had mostly increased her nervousness. She was agitated without knowing the reason, restless and anxious—about everything and nothing in particular.
While Jane fell asleep, Elizabeth was not so lucky, turning over in bed from one side to another, threatening to disturb her sister. In her desperate quest for some peace, she tiptoed out of the room and then the house, hoping the fresh air would help her.
With her nightgown and robe on, her hair loose and free, she looked too improper for company, but she hoped a few minutes outside would not expose her to any indiscreet eyes.
She walked through the garden and sat down by the gate.
As she hoped, there was not a single soul around, everything was still and quiet.
As she stood there admiring the stunning moonlit view in front of her eyes, she noticed a man coming out from a house on her right.
He was too far away to see his face, but the moonlight allowed her to notice his improper attire and his hasty steps towards the water.
Instinctively, she moved even closer, hiding behind a bush.
She was not in any state to be seen, and she did not wish to disturb the man’s obvious need for privacy.
She watched him as he dived into the water, then swam further out with calm, steady strokes. Minutes passed, and he moved further and further away from the shore, until he disappeared from her sight.
Chills of worry made Elizabeth shiver and she abruptly stood up, trying to spot the stranger, but he seemed lost in the dark sea. Scared, she wondered what to do, how to act. Could the man be in danger? Should she call for help?
She ran towards the shore, her eyes searching the quietly lapping surface of the water. She could see nothing else but the sparkling of the stars on the foam.
Elizabeth’s heart pounded, while her head was spinning with helpless fear. Had she just witnessed a man losing his life, trapped by the deceptive calmness of the sea?
She had just decided to run back to the cottage and rouse someone when, with a last glimpse, she observed regular movements far away in the water. She stared at that point until she had no doubt that the swimmer was returning.
A sigh of relief allowed her to breathe again and her heart to beat more steadily.
A gentle wave touched her ankles and only then did she realise that she could not allow herself to be seen in such a situation, so she hurried back to the house.
She passed through the gate but remained hidden, just over the threshold, until the stranger came out of the water safely and disappeared into one of the nearby properties.
Hours later, in the comfort of her chamber, lying in the bed next to Jane, Elizabeth was still shivering, overwhelmed by an unreasonable distress.
She struggled to calm herself, repeating that she had witnessed nothing else but an unknown man taking a swim to cool himself on a warm night—probably a frequent happenstance in a seaside town.
But this voice of reason was not enough to dismiss her anxiety, and the sunrise found her tired and fretting, dizzy from too little sleep and too many emotions.