Page 33 of The Power of Refusal

A s the days slipped by, Elizabeth grew frantic with worry. Each hour brought her closer to her inevitable departure from Lockwood. Mr Darcy’s late arrival, his illness, and the entertainments with the neighbourhood had left her with precious little time in his company. She had anticipated his visit for weeks. As she faced the prospect of being required to leave, a sense of disappointment settled over her.

Jane’s gentle voice broke through Elizabeth’s melancholy thoughts as they shared a quiet breakfast in her chambers. Little Peter cooed softly in his basket nearby. “Perhaps Kitty could go to Mary for her confinement,” Jane mused, her fork pushing the food around her plate. Her appetite seemed as absent as Elizabeth’s own.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Why, then, did you not request Kitty’s help when you were confined, Jane?” she teased. She watched with amusement as a delicate blush crept up her sister’s cheeks.

Jane shook her head, a rueful expression on her face. “I am being foolish. At best, Kitty would order some extravagant meals and fail to see to the washerwoman. No, it makes sense for you to go to Mary. Kitty remains unwed for good reason. Perhaps now old Mrs Couper has passed, it will not be so disagreeable.”

Elizabeth reached out. Her hand covered Jane’s in a gesture of understanding and agreement. The troubles at Longbourn weighed heavily on both their minds. That was a constant source of worry and frustration.

After Jane’s marriage and Elizabeth’s departure to seek respite from their mother’s constant harping, Mary had attempted to rein in the younger girls. Once Mary had wed Mr Couper, it seemed as though their mother had reverted to girlhood herself. She indulged Lydia and Kitty’s every whim and fancy. The youngest Bennet girls had never been properly instructed in the art of running a household. Their days were filled with idle pursuits and frivolous chatter. In truth, Mrs Hill, the faithful housekeeper, kept Longbourn afloat. Her tireless efforts and pride in her profession ensured the estate maintained a veneer of respectability.

Whilst Mrs Bennet twittered and gossiped with her daughters and sister, the tenant visits that should have been a priority were neglected. Tenants left after they were unattended as the years passed. The coffers of Longbourn grew emptier with each passing season. Mr Bennet seemed content to ignore the slow but steady decline. He shut himself away from the world and its troubles.

Unfettered by any competent parental guidance, Lydia and Kitty remained as silly and ignorant as their father had always proclaimed them to be. Lydia, a confirmed flirt, found her options limited by the dearth of eligible gentlemen in Meryton. Her once-lively ventures into the town now offered a shadow of their former appeal.

Netherfield, the neighbouring estate that had once brought such joy and excitement to their lives, was now let to an elderly gentleman and his spinster daughter. Neither of them cared for society or entertainment. The regiments of militia, once a staple of the town’s social scene, had dwindled in the wake of Napoleon’s capture. Meryton had little to offer beyond the latest lace, fashion, and gossip.

The Gardiners, in their kindness, had attempted to intervene. They invited Kitty for an extended visit hoping a separation from Lydia and exposure to a more genteel life might have a positive influence on her, but Kitty’s ill-advised flirtations and unchaperoned excursions had quickly put the family at risk of disgrace. The Gardiners sent her back to Meryton post-haste.

Mary was living closer to Longbourn than she might have wished. She kept her elder sisters apprised of the situation. Her letters painted a bleak picture of the family’s increasing exclusion from even the most basic of Meryton’s social circles. Elizabeth and Jane commiserated. There was little they could do to stem the tide of disgrace their mother and youngest sisters seemed determined to bring upon the Bennet name as long as their father remained unwilling to take notice or action.

The morning light filtered through the windows. A soft glow shone over the remnants of their breakfast. Elizabeth knew her visit to Mary, as necessary as it might be, would remove her from the presence of the man she longed to spend time with. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside. She had no true independence. She was the spinster sister, at the disposal of her kind sisters and brothers. With no fortune, her power to choose her path was limited as a single woman.

∞∞∞

Darcy’s mind was restless, his body still weakened from the lingering effects of his illness. The hours stretched on, each one feeling like an eternity as he longed for the one thing that could bring him comfort: the presence of Elizabeth Bennet. He had seen little of her since his arrival at Lockwood, his sickness having robbed him of precious moments in her company.

Propriety and social conventions held him back. He well knew that requesting her presence in his private chambers was a breach of etiquette. Yet, he could bear it no longer.

“Arthur,” he called to his valet, “I need you to do something for me. Something of the utmost importance.”

The valet’s brows rose, but he quickly schooled his features. “Of course, sir. How may I be of service?”

Darcy took a deep breath. “Please fetch Miss Bennet. Ask her to come to my sitting room.”

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. “Sir, I... To your private quarters?”

Darcy held up a hand. “I am well aware. I simply... I need to see her. To speak with her.”

“Very well, sir. Perhaps one of the maids could accompany her?”

“Yes, please have a maid come with her.”

∞∞∞

Elizabeth sat in the sitting room, her fingers absently tracing the delicate, embossed cover of the book that could not keep her attention. Tumultuous thoughts raced through her mind. A quiet knock at the door shattered the stillness, causing her to start in surprise.

The door opened, revealing Mr Darcy’s valet. Elizabeth’s eyes widened in surprise at his unexpected appearance.

“How might I help you, Mr Arthur?” Elizabeth asked, her voice steady despite her racing

heart.

Mr Arthur cleared his throat. “Please excuse me, miss. My master has charged me with requesting you call upon him. He is at present in his sitting room.”

Elizabeth’s body rose without thought. She halted, considering her options. “If I may have a moment to call for my maid?”

As she ascended the stairs, Elizabeth’s skirts rustled softly against the polished wood. She had not been in Mr Darcy’s chamber since the very first days of his illness. The memory of his feverish form sent a shiver down her spine.

Elizabeth paused at the door to Mr Darcy’s sitting room, her hand resting on the cool metal of the doorknob. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

∞∞∞

As Elizabeth entered the room, Darcy drank in the sight of her. He rose to his feet, his body protesting the sudden movement after so many days of confinement.

“Miss Bennet,” he said, “I cannot tell you how pleased I am to see you.”

“Mr Darcy,” she replied, “I am so relieved to see you recovered. You gave us quite a fright.”

He ducked his head. “I apologise for any distress I may have caused you. I never meant to burden you with worry.”

Elizabeth shook her head, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “Please, do not apologise. Your health and well-being are of the utmost importance to me.”

They sat, the words hanging in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.Darcy's speaking glance sought answers in her countenance, his gaze betraying the depth of his feelings. Elizabeth’s heart raced.

Finally, Darcy broke the silence, his voice soft and hesitant. “Miss Bennet, I... There is something I must say to you. Something I have longed to express for quite some time.”

Elizabeth nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please, Mr Darcy. Speak freely.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes locked on hers. “Miss Bennet, I have to beg your forgiveness. That night at Hunsford. It has haunted me. My behaviour to you at the time merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”

Elizabeth’s brows rose in surprise. “No, sir. That is ancient history. Think not of it for a moment. The conduct of neither of us, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable, but since then we have both, I hope, improved in civility.”

Darcy placed his hand over hers. “Let us not waste time on recriminations. I must also confess a foolish error. For some years now, I have laboured under the mistaken impression you had married. I have since learnt it is your sister Mary who is the wife of Mr Couper.”

Elizabeth’s eyes flew wide, her mouth fell open in shock. “Married? Goodness, I am the perfect picture of a maiden aunt, am I not? How…” The realisation of Mr Darcy’s misunderstanding suddenly hit her like a physical blow.

She looked up at him, her eyes searched his face for any hint of disappointment or regret. But all she saw was a tenderness that took her breath away.

“Mr Darcy,” she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. “I have never been married. I have never even come close. My heart has forbidden it.”

Elizabeth reeled at the admission she let slip. The words hung in the air between them, a confession years in the making. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Darcy’s face bore a questioning expression, then slowly broke into a smile. “Miss Bennet,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I cannot be entirely certain of your meaning,but I believe I might be quite happy to hear those words.”

Elizabeth’s heart raced. That he might still care for her both thrilled and terrified her. She opened her mouth to speak, wishing to give voice to the feelings within her chest, but the words stuck in her throat.

Instead, she looked down at their hands, still clasped together. The warmth of his touch seeped into her skin. It was a connection she had only dared to dream of over the past lonely years.

Darcy’s thumb brushed gently over her knuckles, a featherlight touch that sent a jolt of electricity through her body. But even as she savoured the warmth of his touch, the sound of footsteps in the hall outside shattered the moment.

Elizabeth stood abruptly, her skirts rustling as she smoothed them down with trembling hands. “I should go,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Darcy rose to his feet, his expression a mix of reluctance and understanding. “Of course,” he said, glancing at the maid who stood discreetly by the door.

“Thank you for your understanding, Mr Darcy. And for your kindness.” Elizabeth turned to go, her heart racing as she made her way towards the door. As she reached for the handle, she had to look back, to catch one last glimpse of the man who held her heart.

Their eyes met across the room. A silent communication passed between them, a promise of something more lingering in the air like a whisper of hope.

∞∞∞

As Elizabeth made her way towards the door, Darcy’s eyes never left her. He drank in every detail, every nuance of her expression. If only he could spend more than a moment with Elizabeth, perhaps they might come to an understanding.

“Darcy, you are back from the crypt at last!” Bingley exclaimed as he entered Darcy’s sitting room, his entrance narrowly missing Miss Elizabeth’s departure.

Darcy had hoped for a few minutes to reflect on the momentous conversation, but he managed a sardonic smirk. The cheerful demeanour of his friend, though usually a welcome sight, was jarring amid Darcy’s contemplative state. “I am not yet completely well, but I think there is hope for my survival.”

“Capital, capital, we had quite a scare there, my man. Poor Jane had to write to Georgiana. I did not know she had recently borne her first.” Bingley chattered blithely, unaware of the worry his words had caused Darcy. He resolved to write to his poor sister with a cheerful minimisation of the entire ordeal as soon as Bingley left him.

“I will stand as godfather again in a few weeks,” Darcy said, attempting to steer the conversation to happier matters. “Edward Halliday, heir to the Halliday title and holdings. I have never seen my sister so enraptured.”

Bingley nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “I cannot say that surprises me. Jane has been absorbed in Peter’s care. She has waited a long spell to be a mother, of course, which perhaps makes her dote a bit more. I am certainly embarrassingly besotted with my boy. Of course, a gentleman wants a son and heir, but the depth of emotion when I met the little man, it shocked me.”

Bingley turned his attention back to Darcy. “Which brings me in a roundabout way to the other purpose of my visit. Besides ensuring you were no longer horizontal, that is.”

Darcy raised his brows. His mind was still muddled by both the sequelae of his illness and his recent interview with Elizabeth. Whatever was Bingley about? He allowed the silence to extend, knowing Bingley could not resist continuing.

Bingley glanced about the room for a moment, as though seeking inspiration. “I thought I saw Lizzy coming from your chamber when I came up the stairs.”

Darcy’s expression hardened. If he had the presence of mind to think straight, he would never have put Elizabeth in such a position. He would not prevaricate.

“Yes, I spoke with her this morning.”

“About damned time,” Bingley said, giving him a direct gaze. Darcy looked up in confusion.

“Darcy, I have learnt through unpleasant experience not to interfere in the affairs of the heart of another man. Rarely does anything good come of that,” Bingley began. Darcy winced, recalling his own overbearing interference in Bingley’s attachment many years ago.

“I will not meddle in your affections. I must, however, as a brother, impress upon you that I will tolerate no dallying with my sister’s heart. Elizabeth has endured great trials. She, well, you are acquainted with Mrs Bennet’s disposition. She was our primary motivation in purchasing an estate two days’ travel from Meryton. Whilst Lizzy was at Longbourn her mother contrived to marry her off to any man who was remotely eligible. Jane has told me there were no fewer than five proposals, all of which Elizabeth refused. You can imagine how her mother reacted.”

Darcy’s head became fuzzy. A wave of nausea washed over him. Five proposals? Was his own deeply flawed attempt included in that number? Elizabeth had at least four times been at risk of the marriage he had believed she had entered.

Bingley, unaware of Darcy’s inner tumult of feeling, continued. “She moved to London to stay with the Gardiners for a while. Whilst she was there, I understand she was subjected to some unwanted attention. She came to us when Jane was suffering from so much trouble, seeing her expectations repeatedly unfulfilled and such. But Lizzy will not allow me to provide for her. She earns a few shillings making fashion plates for her uncle’s business. Her father, well, the less said the better. He has left her penniless and seems to care not a fig for her welfare so long as someone else is feeding her.”

The realisation of his own blindness hit him. How could he have been so consumed by his own feelings that he never considered how Elizabeth might survive as a single woman?

Indeed, for some years he thought her married, and he had made regular gifts to the church of her supposed husband. At least that had benefitted her sister! But Elizabeth should have been his.

She should have wanted for nothing.

“I digress. My point is, I can see, any fool with eyes can see there is something between you two. I will not have Elizabeth hurt. You are my friend, and I am gratified we have mended our fences. That is of no consequence if you are not respectful of my sister.” Bingley’s eyes bored into Darcy’s with a bullish expression.

Darcy swallowed hard. He would not leave Bingley with any doubt.

“I have been in love with Miss Elizabeth since the year eleven,” he said flatly.

Bingley’s head whipped around. A succession of expressions passed over his face as he struggled to reconcile this revelation with Darcy’s recent history.

Bingley’s brow furrowed with confusion. “Yet you married Lady Harriet not three years ago?”

“When Georgiana married, I was labouring under the mistaken idea that Miss Elizabeth had married Reverend Couper, not Miss Mary as was. Georgiana was insistent that I not remain single and alone. Lady Harriet was terribly ill long before we met. We became friends. It was a sort of marriage of convenience—not for fortune, but for companionship. She longed for a normal life—dancing, parties, marriage. I was lonely and convinced I could never have the happiness of a love match,” Darcy spoke haltingly. He was not a man who disclosed his personal affairs easily. He owed Bingley the whole truth.

Bingley was silent as he considered these matters.

“When did you learn of your mistake? Regarding Elizabeth?”

“When she signed the baptismal register for Peter.”

Darcy could see the light dawn on Bingley’s visage.

Bingley thought for a moment. “Are you well enough to come down to dinner?” “I should be if I rest for the remaining hours.”

“You have a great deal of work to do, and not much time to do it. Lizzy must leave to assist Mary—Mrs Couper. You must remedy these long-standing misapprehensions before Miss Elizabeth departs for Mary's confinement. Jane is convinced Lizzy has pined for you these many years.. We will find a way for you to be together. But please, not in your chamber. We have a decent household here, old man. We will insist on propriety.”

Bingley rose and clapping Darcy on the shoulder, said, “I will leave you to gather your strength for the battle to come! We will have three couples tonight to dine.”

Darcy, alone once more in the stillness of his sitting room, considered the weight of the task before him.