KaraLou's Index
Sharni's Index
Chapters 1 and 2
Fitzwilliam Darcy paced around his room in a highly agitated state. He was packed and more than ready to leave and wondered of his cousin's tardiness. They had both gone to Hunsford Parsonage to bid their farewells to the Collinses and their guests, but Darcy had not remained to wait on Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who was, they assumed, out on one of her favoured walks. Darcy knew for a fact that she was. He had encountered her earlier and had presented her with a letter, explaining the facts of his dealings with Mr. Wickham and the reasons for his interference with her sister and Mr. Bingley. He departed the parsonage quickly, not wishing to encounter her again. His heart still stung from the fierceness of her words in refusing his proposal. His cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, apparently had remained at the parsonage, hoping she would return so he could see her once more before he left.
Darcy remained in his room, steadfastly intent on avoiding his aunt's merciless ranting. His only hope for sanity was to keep himself sequestered in his room until it was time to depart. His plans were to go up north with Richard where they both had business. From there, he would go to Pemberley for a short duration before returning to London, where he would be reunited with his sister once again. He ached inside for the return of sanity to his life, his own home and surroundings, and his closest living relative, his sister, Georgiana.
Ever since coming to Kent and to the home of his aunt in Rosings, he had been tormented by the presence of Elizabeth Bennet, whom he had been trying to put out of his mind these past few months. Her unexpected presence there at the home of his aunt’s clergyman unnerved him greatly. He found himself conflicted in his heart and mind. His heart had ached for the sight of her, for the light, playfulness of her nature, her fine, attractive eyes, her sparkling reason and wit. His mind had argued with assiduous reason against her station in life, how she was so decidedly beneath him. Then there was her family…
Durnham, Darcy's manservant, and Winston, his driver, had the carriage packed and waiting. He watched from his window, anxiously keeping an eye open for Fitzwilliam. Where is my blasted cousin? He wanted nothing but to depart.
He finally spied him coming down the lane and gathered his composure to venture out of his chambers and face him, his aunt, and his cousin, Anne, as he set out to take leave. As Fitzwilliam entered, he could hear his aunt's voice raise two octaves in her distress at them having to depart so soon. Darcy knew that if he waited just a few moments before joining them, his cousin would be more than ready to depart immediately and thus be free from his aunt's invectives.
When he finally took the stairs down to join them, he steeled himself for another onslaught, but quickly came to his cousin's rescue and sent him off to some last minute preparations before leaving. Darcy walked out with his aunt, expressing his gratitude for her gracious hospitality during their visit and assuring her that he would come again as circumstance allowed.
“Oh, my dear nephew, please make it soon and plan to stay longer next time. I know how much you love spending time with Anne and me. Please do not make yourself so scarce around here. You know you are welcome anytime and next time you must bring Georgiana!”
“Yes, Aunt, thank you.”
Fitzwilliam finally returned. They both kissed their aunt goodbye, and quickly climbed up into Darcy's carriage. The façade of friendliness and a smiling face was beginning to take its toll on Darcy. He settled into his seat and his head turned instantly to the window. He knew this was going to be a long ride and only hoped that his cousin was not in a very talkative mood. He trusted his body posture would indicate to him his desire to be left alone.
As the carriage pulled away, Fitzwilliam sighed. “What a wonderful time we had here, Darcy! I must say that it was surely made a bit livelier by the presence of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Would you not agree?”
“I cannot say that it was,” was his only reply.
Fitzwilliam cocked his head and gazed upon him curiously. He is in one of his moods again, I fear. This is going to be a very long ride. “Unfortunately I was not able to bid her farewell this morning.”
Darcy had looked away and had not heard what he said. “Excuse me?”
Fitzwilliam shook his head. “Miss Bennet. She never returned from her walk. It is unfortunate we were not able to pay our respects before we left.”
Darcy's only response was a “hmmph!”
Fitzwilliam recalled how animatedly Darcy had spoken of Miss Bennet before they arrived in Rosings and how surprised and uncollected he became when he found out she was but next door. Something must have happened in their time here to have brought about this change, but knowing Darcy as well as he did, he knew he would not disclose anything to him unless he really wanted to. There was no sense in even trying to pry it out of him. He would have to wait.
Darcy pulled out a book, hoping that would dissuade Fitzwilliam from any unwanted conversation. But as the carriage drove through the woods past Hunsford, he could not help but look out the window, hoping to get one last glance at Elizabeth. What was she thinking now that she had read the letter? Are her feelings against me stronger than ever or have they softened? He shook his head, feelings of remorse filling him as he recalled the scene from yesterday.
As they passed the parsonage, he took a last look and wondered if she had indeed returned. He caught Fitzwilliam's eyes, which seemed to hold a knowing gleam in them. The look Darcy returned to his cousin gave him every determination not to inquire of his thoughts at the moment.
Darcy returned to his book, trying to recall what he had last read in it. What was the plot? He looked at the last few pages and finally recollected the narrative. His eyes followed the words down the page, but as he found himself at the top of the following one, he realized he had not comprehended anything from it. He went back up to the top of the former page and began again.
Fitzwilliam knew the degree to which Darcy enjoyed reading and how he devoured a book. He was quite amazed at the length of time he was spending on one page. He sat back and watched, contemplating what was unnerving this man!
Darcy felt uneasy under Fitzwilliam's scrutiny. He finally looked up and grumbled, “Richard! Would you be so kind as to refrain from this staring! I find it extremely difficult to concentrate on this book with you eyeing me in that manner!”
Fitzwilliam could no longer hold his tongue. “What is this, Darcy? You have appeared quite disturbed all morning! What is weighing on your mind? We have quite a long ride ahead of us and I would be more than willing to lend my ear.”
“There is nothing wrong with me that a bit of silence will not cure! Now, if you please, let me get back to my book, and you… you do what you wish, but leave me be.” With that, Darcy returned to his book, intent on grasping each word on the page and losing himself to the story before him.
Fitzwilliam smiled. Oh, to be a man tortured by love!
The day's travel was interrupted only by a stop in a small town for a quick meal and to freshen up. There had been a few attempts at conversation and Fitzwilliam was grateful that as the day drew on, Darcy became slightly more agreeable in returning a discourse. Whatever had been distressing him was slowly dissipating, at least on the surface. His eyes still betrayed the struggle that was going on inside of him.
The sun disappeared from the horizon and Darcy was glad for the darkness that began enclosing them. It soothed his soul, as he felt it was somewhat akin to the darkness inside him. He cast a glance at his cousin and was grateful to find that he had dozed off. He knew how to put on a mask around people with whom he was not acquainted, but found it very difficult to do so around those he knew well, and Fitzwilliam was one he knew and admired greatly. He was convinced, though, that he could tell no one, not even his cousin, of his proposal to Elizabeth and her subsequent refusal.
His only concern was that blasted letter he had written to Georgiana just three days prior, eager to tell her of his intent to ask for the hand of his beloved Elizabeth in marriage. He anticipated in his letter to her that he would return to London in a week or two and would impart all the pleasant details to her then. His greatest joy was that she would be getting an admirable, new sister!
He had requested that she keep this a secret at present as things would probably not be finalized yet, not being certain when he would have the opportunity to meet with her father. But even with the assurance that Georgiana would keep silent, he greatly feared that someone might somehow find out. How could he face anyone, knowing he had been slighted; and by a woman who should have been most grateful for an offer of marriage by a man of his means?
On proper reflection, however, he realized that Elizabeth's refusal was the very thing that confirmed in his heart that she was the woman he wanted for his wife. She was not, by any means, persuaded to love, or even accept him, because of his wealth. It was almost due to her indifference to him that he was so attracted to her; in addition there was her beauty, grace, wit…
Oh, it is no use! he thought to himself as a frustrated moan escaped him.
“Pardon me, Darcy. Did you say something?” asked Fitzwilliam, awakening from his light sleep.
“No. I am merely tired and sore. I hope it is not much longer.” He shifted in his seat, hoping to appear to his cousin that he was stiff from sitting so long. In reality, it was due to the uncomfortable direction his thoughts had been going.
When they reached their final destination, both men exited the carriage and gratefully stretched their legs. Darcy and Durnham moved towards his room with his trunks, leaving Fitzwilliam to wonder what agonies his cousin was suffering. He doubted that their three days here would enlighten him much, as once Darcy began his business dealings, nothing would distract him. He consoled himself that maybe one day he would know, but now he could only conjecture that it was due to a broken heart.
The three days passed quickly and Darcy was glad for the diversion of work. He had people with whom he had to meet concerning his properties and was also giving instruction and advice to his cousin regarding some business ventures. He found that the challenge and thrill of seeing his business transactions fruitful made his thoughts stray less and less to his days at Rosings and one particular young lady with very fine eyes.
By the end of the three days, he was ready to depart. Fitzwilliam would remain one additional day and then leave for the country to visit his family. Darcy was anxious to get back to Pemberley.
“Well, Darcy,” began Fitzwilliam. “It has been most enjoyable and profitable for me to have had this time with you. I am most grateful for your patience with me and your generous instruction.”
“It is nothing, Richard. Give my regard to your family when you see them next.”
“I will. And you do the same… especially to Georgiana.”
“Till we meet again,” said Darcy as he pulled himself up into the carriage.
As he seated himself, he turned to look at Fitzwilliam. His cousin offered him a very half-hearted smile as the carriage pulled away. He knew there was something wrong, he thought. I am most grateful that he did not press me for details. When I am old and grey and can look back on this and laugh, I might confide in him.
Darcy leaned his head back and sighed. This would be a difficult journey. The solitude would indeed give him much time to think and ponder. His mind would have little restraint and yet he felt he needed to rein in his thoughts to avoid thinking of her! He looked down at his book and felt very little inspiration to pick it up and read. No, he would wait. He opened up his satchel and took out some papers from a business transaction he had just finalized. He read them over and found himself soon tiring of them and closed his eyes.
Behind his closed eyes was suddenly a pair of the finest eyes of a beautiful young lady, beholding him and smiling. Suddenly they became dark and angry and she turned from him. Gradually she began to fade away. Could he really let her fade from his thoughts like this? Would he be able to do it? Would he be able to find some other, more suitable woman to be his wife? Certainly there was no other woman in his acquaintance now; he must set out to meet others. But he knew that he would always hold out the comparison to Elizabeth. Any other woman would most certainly fall short; would always be second best.
Darcy let out a deep sigh, his elbow resting on the window and his fist coming up to make a rest for his jaw. Both his jaw and fist tightened as he contemplated getting on with his life without Elizabeth. If only he had listened to his own advice to Bingley in discouraging him from pursuing a relationship with Elizabeth's sister, Jane, and heeded it himself! Why could he not have done that! If he had, he would never have proposed and he would only have had to deal with some momentary disappointment in letting go of his feelings for Elizabeth instead of the horrendous humiliation at being rejected by her.
He had been presumptuous in his thinking that Elizabeth would agree to marry him. He had not courted her in a manner that was proper; at least in any way that was apparent to her. He had so relished their sharp, witty conversations together and had on many occasions simply enjoyed being in her presence. But these feelings of delight had not been reciprocated on her part. He had been a fool! And he had no one to blame but himself.
When the carriage stopped at midday, Darcy was amazed at how quickly the time had passed and realized they were but a few hours from Pemberley. Again, he gratefully stepped out and let his long legs extend to their fullest; then went to an inn to refresh and obtain something to eat.
When he returned, he saw that the sky ahead was getting dark.
Winston, who was a very capable and conscientious driver, looked to his master. “Sir, it looks like a storm up ahead. Do you think we ought to remain here for the night and wait out the bad weather? They can put us up for the night at the inn.”
Darcy thought about staying one more night away from home, and knowing it would only be a couple more hours of travel, advised his driver and valet that he wanted to continue on.
“Right, Sir.”
Seated once again in the carriage, Darcy determined that for the remainder of the journey he would have to regulate his thoughts. He had to begin now! He thought of his father and how he often would go to him for advice; how he wished he were still here now to advise him. Would he have been able to confide in him the particulars of this situation? He knew not, but at the moment he wished to hear his words of compassion and wisdom.
Within an hour of their setting out again, raindrops began to splatter around them. Darcy hoped it would only be an insignificant storm, although as he looked out through the window, he saw the dark clouds looming ahead. Soon, flashes of lightning and claps of thunder exploded around them. Darcy knew that the roads would soon be muddy and was grateful for the excellent repair his carriage was in. He regretted, though, his decision to go on ahead, as it was going to be a difficult journey. They were now fairly far into the countryside and there would be no place to stop until they reached Lambton.
He could feel the difference in the ride of the carriage as the roads became more and more difficult to manoeuvre. He lifted up a silent prayer that they would make it through safely. Suddenly there was a tremendous bump and Darcy felt the carriage rock. It went from one side to the other and he let out a shout as his arms reached out to try and balance himself.
A loud cracking sound was heard as the carriage suddenly turned on its side. Darcy felt a stabbing pain in his back and then, as the carriage went off the side of the road and landed on its top, Darcy hit his head and found himself in darkness, quiet, and then… nothing.
Chapter 2
Longbourn
“He proposed?” Jane looked at Elizabeth, her eyes wide with overwhelming astonishment. “Mr. Darcy proposed! I can scarce believe it!” Jane shook her head in disbelief.
Elizabeth was grateful to finally be home from Kent and reunited with her beloved elder sister, Jane, who had just returned from London herself. The first moment they had to themselves that evening up in her bedroom, Elizabeth confidentially told her of Mr. Darcy's proposal and her subsequent refusal of it.
“Yes, but remember I did refuse him. I had to refuse him,” Elizabeth solemnly assured her sister. “He never showed any regard for me. His proposal was hardly a declaration of love. He made it quite clear that he had struggled in vain from the very beginning regarding our family's relative situation and poor connections and that his own better judgment advised him against this alliance. How could I be anything but offended?”
“I cannot believe any man would say such things in a proposal of marriage!” Jane stated bewildered. “What kind of man would do this?”
Elizabeth’s large brown eyes looked away as if in deep thought. She arched one eyebrow and she replied slowly, “I believe it would have to be a man who was very sure of being accepted.”
“Mr. Darcy had to believe you would accept him. He had to have been so sure of himself, that he gave no thought to his words or how he spoke them! Think of it, Lizzy, any woman would not have had the slightest hesitation in accepting him, if but simply for his fortune.”
Upon hearing these words Elizabeth suddenly looked down, wringing her hands. Jane quickly added, “Not that I am saying you should have accepted him. But imagine how he must feel! He must be so hurt and humiliated!”
“I would not concern yourself with Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth sighed. “I do not believe he will suffer much by my refusal.” She chuckled apprehensively. “It has been over a week. I am sure his regard for me is all but forgotten.”
“I simply do not understand. Were you ever persuaded of what his feelings were for you?” Jane asked, shaking her head the whole time, trying to comprehend what her sister had just told her.
“I had not an idea of it. Every conversation we shared seemed to result in sharp words. We could barely carry on a civil exchange for more than a few sentences. You are as surprised as I am, Jane.” Elizabeth smiled at her sister.
Jane then gently took her hand. “It is not that I am surprised he asked you, Lizzy. I am surprised because he seemed to think us all so decidedly beneath him. He always appeared to me to be wishing he were anywhere else but here in Hertfordshire.”
“So it seemed.”
“What was he like at Rosings? Did you notice any peculiar regard there?”
“We had our share of strained conversation there, as well. At times he appeared very uncomfortable. When I first saw him, I was of the opinion he was definitely not happy to see me. His cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, was very open and friendly, but Mr. Darcy seemed very withdrawn and uncomfortable. His coming to me with an offer of marriage was the last thing I would have ever expected from him. But Jane, you must promise not tell a soul of this. You are the only one who knows!”
“Oh Lizzy, you know I would not!”
Elizabeth sighed and looked down at her hands that now gripped Jane's tightly. “Jane, there is one more thing that came out from all of this.”
“What would that be?” asked Jane anxiously.
“He wrote a letter to me after I had refused him. He presented it to me the next morning.” Elizabeth looked up. Jane was staring intently, hanging on each word.
“In it, he told me what really happened in his dealings with Mr. Wickham; how Mr. Wickham had deceived us with his story about him. Jane, it was actually Mr. Wickham who betrayed Mr. Darcy and his family.”
“No!” whispered Jane. “You mean Mr. Wickham fabricated his story?”
“Yes, I imagine he did it to suit his own needs; to make us look favourably on him and unfavourably toward Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth went on to share with her sister the unfortunate circumstances regarding Wickham; in particular, his brazen actions toward Miss Darcy. As she shared this with Jane, she became more and more appalled that her attitude toward Mr. Darcy had been based mainly on the deception of one who had been determined to ruin him. She felt more and more remorseful of her attitude toward him in this area. How could she not have discerned the truth earlier?
Jane's face showed her distress over this news. “I cannot believe that he had fooled us all! Are you quite certain that Mr. Darcy did not misconstrue the events? Perhaps both of them simply have a mutual misunderstanding.”
Elizabeth looked at Jane and with a reflective air stated, “There is but such a quantity of merit between them; just enough to make one good sort of man.” Elizabeth let out a deep sigh. “I am afraid one has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it.”
The realization of her words penetrated Jane, but her thoughts took her to Charles. Her expression of astonishment at once turned to heartache. Tears filled her eyes and she looked down quickly. Elizabeth reached out and touched her arm, “What is it?”
“On proper reflection, I must conclude that Mr. Darcy had all the admiration and Mr. Bingley had only the appearance of it.” With that, her breathing became soft sobs.
“Jane, I know that is not true! I am convinced that Mr. Bingley has all the regard for you that one can possibly possess.” Elizabeth tried in vain to reassure her sister of Charles' true affections.
“Forgive me, Lizzy. I did not mean to…” She could not finish her sentence as she struggled to regulate her tears.
Elizabeth drew her sister into her arms and hugged her tightly. “There is no need to ask forgiveness, dearest Jane. I do not claim to understand any of the events that transpired over these past few months.” She was distressed to see the prolonged hurt in her sister and know that it was caused in part by Mr. Darcy's own doing. She felt her stomach knot up, as she felt the anger that she had toward him again flare.
Since she had been apprised of the truth in his letter regarding his dealings with Wickham, she struggled with consistency in her feelings toward Mr. Darcy. In that area her anger had diminished towards him. But she could not let herself forget the other provocation. There was still the issue of his inexcusable interference in Jane's and Bingley's relationship. This distressed her gravely.
Jane leaned over and kissed her sister. “Lizzy, I want you to know that I do respect you for your decision to refuse Mr. Darcy. You did what you felt you must; what you knew you had to do! As much as Mama would have expected you to be grateful and accept such a proposal, I know too well that you could not be persuaded into marriage with such a man!”
“Thank you, Jane. It does make things easier knowing you understand. Please, whatever you do, do not let Mama find out about this. I would never be able to live in the same house with her again if she knew I refused yet another proposal; and from a man worth ten thousand a year!”
Jane laughed in the midst of her tears. “That is so true! Would she not be completely undone! Well, it is getting late. Good night, dear sister. I am so glad we are both home again.”
“Good night, Jane. I am so glad to be back and have you to share things with again!”
As Elizabeth slipped into bed, she was welcomed by her own sheets, her own pillow. As she laid her head on her pillow and reached back to plump it up, she made a determined resolution. She would do whatever she could; do everything in her power, to get Jane back together with Mr. Bingley. Feeling somewhat satisfied by this decision, she drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
*~*~*
The next day arrived too soon for Elizabeth. She had slept fitfully through the night and now all she wanted was to remain in her cosy bed and sleep the whole day through. The sun crept in through the window, beckoning her with the notion that since it had arisen, so should she. She lay in bed a few minutes longer, looking around her room, savouring the feeling of being home again. Her eyes went to the window and out to the grounds that lay beyond.
She suddenly thought of her walks in the beautiful grounds at Rosings, and how, on more than one occasion, she unexpectedly encountered Mr. Darcy. She had assumed they met by accident, but now she wondered, could he have purposely sought her out? He never truly made any effort at conversation as they continued to walk together, and she often felt his accompanying her had been out of politeness. Now, she could not be certain.
She thought back to how different he seemed at Rosings than in Hertfordshire. At the latter he had been stiff and formal, arrogant in his countenance, abrupt, and distant. Yet at Rosings he appeared unsettled, disquieted, and uneasy. He did not have the arrogant air about him that he had earlier. When he walked with her out in the grounds, she recalled how he often looked at her with a manner of kindness. But that he was often so quiet, she took his behaviour to be strictly out of forced civility. He had been different there, but not enough to give her any reason to believe him enamoured with her.
The beckoning sun finally had its way and she arose. She dressed quickly and joined her family downstairs for breakfast. Not being terribly hungry, she ate only a biscuit and a little fruit. Mrs. Bennet was discussing the need for some items from the milliner's shop in town and Elizabeth, anxious for a diversion, offered to walk into Meryton to pick them up. Jane enthusiastically offered to join her. Fortunately for them, their three younger sisters were otherwise engaged for the morning, so the two would have the sole pleasure of each other's company as they walked into town.
As they set out for Meryton, Elizabeth was again glad for Jane's company. How she had missed her these past weeks! Their conversation echoed much from the night before. Lizzy had to be careful what she said to Jane. She would not tell her of Mr. Darcy's interference in swaying his friend's regard for her. There would be no reason to tell her. So she guarded her words very carefully.
As they walked, Jane turned to her sister with a resigned look on her face.
Elizabeth returned her look with a sigh. “You are not happy, Jane. It pains me to see it.”
Jane tilted her head to one side, as if to dismiss as irrational what she was about to say. “It is just that I am afraid I still prefer Mr. Bingley to any other man I have ever met. I do believe that he…” She stopped herself from continuing that thought. “Yet I am resolved to think of him no more. There! I shall be myself again, as if I had never set eyes on him.” She looked at Elizabeth and steeled herself for her next words. “I will be perfectly content. Do not concern yourself with me.”
Elizabeth heard her sister's words, but knew that within her heart it was a completely different matter. How she ached to make things right by her. Just how she would do it was yet unknown to her. She took her sister by the arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. They walked the remainder of the way to town in silence.
The milliner's shop in Meryton was gaily decorated with ribbons and lace and hats. Elizabeth walked over to the lace handkerchiefs and picked one up. This one would look very nice with my initials embroidered on it, she thought to herself. It had a tatted edge and a cut out heart in each of the four corners. Jane purchased a few items and they stopped by a bakery for some fresh baked goods before slowly strolling back to Longbourn.
As they made their way back to the house, they saw a gentleman leaving on horseback. Neither of them was able to recognize him.
“I wonder who that was,” Jane pondered aloud.
“I could not tell. Do you suppose he was delivering a post?” asked Elizabeth. “Shall we go in and find out?”
As they entered the house, there was great commotion, coming mainly from Mrs. Bennet.
“Oh, girls! Look what we just received!” She rushed over to them, putting her arm around Elizabeth and holding out a letter. “This is from a Georgiana Darcy; she is the sister of that fine Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth looked quizzically at her mother. “What could she possibly want?” she asked, astounded with that news.
“She writes to you, Lizzy,” her mother began.
“Mama, you read a letter that was addressed to me?” cried Elizabeth.
“I had no choice, as we had to give a reply to the carrier while he waited. We were not certain when you would return. But look, read what she says!”
Dear Miss Elizabeth Bennet,
With much anguish I must inform you that my brother, Fitzwilliam Darcy, was in an accident just outside of Lambton as he returned to Pemberley two days ago. The carriage in which he rode overturned and he sustained some injuries. He is under the care of our doctor here at Pemberley. We have been assured that he had no broken bones, but he has been unconscious since then and of this the doctor is concerned.
I knew that you would want to know, and I hope that I am not asking too much for you to come to Pemberley as soon as possible. Even though he is unconscious, he does occasionally call out your name and I wonder if you may be the only thing that will bring him out of this sleep. Miss Bennet, the doctor has not been overly optimistic concerning my brother's condition. It has been two days since the accident. As each day passes and he still does not regain consciousness, I can see the doctor becomes more gravely concerned.
We have also summoned his good friend, Mr. Charles Bingley, with whom I know you are acquainted. He is on his way here now, as well.
I would be exceedingly grateful if you would come. I have no doubt that you would most likely desire to be here and hope that arrangements can be made to bring you to Pemberley promptly.
Please reply as to whether you will be able to come and when you plan to leave Longbourn. I will arrange the coach from Pemberley to meet you in Lambton.
Thank you.
Yours, &c,
Miss Georgiana Darcy
“See, Lizzy, that fine gentleman, Mr. Darcy, has been calling out your name! You must go to him. Miss Darcy believes that only you can help him! I have sent back the reply that you and Jane will leave tomorrow morning and be in Lambton by the afternoon!”
Elizabeth looked at her mother in disbelief. “But Mama, he is not even conscious, not in his right mind, and calling out my name? I cannot believe it! His sister must be mistaken!” Elizabeth struggled to come up with a way to prevent this. She knew the only reason her mother would have agreed to this was that, in her mind, a man worth 'ten thousand a year' was asking for her daughter and that, even though he was quite ill, he was a very promising prospect as a husband for her.
“Now, Lizzy, you simply must go. I have replied that you would be arriving with Jane. When Mr. Darcy sees how well you tend him and how kind and giving you are, his affections will certainly be engaged toward you. And just think! Mr. Bingley will be there. Jane will be able to see Mr. Bingley again!”
Elizabeth suddenly stopped, realizing what her mother just said. Jane will be able to see Mr. Bingley again! A light began to flicker in her dark eyes. “I suppose it is a good idea, Mama.” Elizabeth looked over at Jane, whose mouth suddenly dropped open. “Come, Jane, I think we must go ready ourselves to leave on the morrow.”
Jane rushed to join her, stopping her by taking her arm. She whispered frantically, “Lizzy, I know what you are up to! You cannot do this! I know you are only agreeing to do this because of me!”
Elizabeth put her hand up to Jane's mouth to silence her and prodded her to walk with her away from the gathered family. “I do not understand why Miss Darcy wrote me. If she only knew what really happened between Mr. Darcy and me! He is probably suffering nightmares about me and yet she must think he calls my name out of admiration or fondness.”
Her thoughts went from Mr. Darcy to Jane and Charles. “Jane, I think this may be just the opportunity to bring you and Mr. Bingley back together; to find out for a certainty what his feelings are for you. I do believe Providence has dealt us a very interesting hand!”
Hope blending with a touch of fear filled Jane’s countenance. “But what if Mr. Bingley…”
“If it appears he no longer has regard for you, we will return home at once.”
Elizabeth smiled at the situation that had presented itself to them. How ironic it would be to be at Pemberley, in Darcy's own home, that Jane and Charles would be brought back together -- right under his nose!
For Jane's sake, Elizabeth had to appear sure of herself. A grin overspread her face as she said, “Jane, I think Mama has done us an immense favour. Besides, what can we do? She has already sent the reply. It appears that we are going to Pemberley tomorrow!” The two sisters grasped hands and smiled. Jane's heart pounded as it had not done in months. The pounding in Elizabeth's heart suggested something entirely different, yet she was not sure what.
Jane moved to go to her room and ready herself for the journey tomorrow. She turned with a soft smile and said, “You know that Mama is not just expecting a proposal to come out of this for me, Elizabeth, but for you, as well. Would Mama not die if she knew that you had already received a marriage proposal from Mr. Darcy?”
“No, I believe she would simply faint. She would, however, die if she knew I had refused his proposal!” With that, both girls laughed uncontrollably, spurred on by the nervousness each felt.
Elizabeth went directly to her room and sat on the edge of her bed, contemplating what this would mean for her. It would be quite awkward for her to face Mr. Darcy again. She knew that for a certainty. She had no way of knowing how long Mr. Darcy would remain unconscious. If… when… he awoke, she would definitely offer an apology to him for her misjudgement of his dealings with Mr. Wickham. She would, however, stand up to him again, in defence of her determination to bring Jane and Mr. Bingley together again. She was resolved to do it. She only hoped that they could remain at Pemberley long enough for Jane to determine Charles' true sentiment toward her.
Clothing and accessories enough for a week were packed for the sisters. They did not know how long they would be there. It could be for just one night if things turned out disastrously, yet there was always the possibility that they could stay longer. As she contemplated staying more than a few days, Elizabeth found herself thinking of Mr. Darcy and his injuries. He could be in grave condition, indeed. An apprehensive thought kept resurfacing. What if he never regained consciousness, as Miss Darcy so greatly feared?
She did not know whether the knots in her stomach were a result of concern for his welfare or her fear to face him again. She only knew that the remainder of the day and evening were very discomfiting to her. Her mother continually interjected her opinions on how the two of them should behave when they arrived at Pemberley, what they should say, and how they should sit, stand, and walk. Mrs. Bennet had settled it in her mind that they would both be engaged by the time they returned.
Mary had to express her concern that this was not a very proper thing to do, to allow her two unmarried sisters to go to the home of a single man and to have his single friend there, too. Even though his sister would be there, she was not of the opinion that this was at all wise.
At first, Kitty and Lydia protested that they could not accompany them. Very quickly, however, they realized it would be quite boring there as no officers would be around and Pemberley was at least five miles from any reasonable sized town where they could find some diversion.
Mr. Bennet made himself scarce throughout the day, knowing he would not be able to talk any sense into Mrs. Bennet or control any of his daughters. He knew this excursion would involve both their elder daughters being in the same household with two very eligible men. He trusted the sensibility of Elizabeth and the purity of heart of Jane, but was not overly enthusiastic. He had not been persuaded in favour of either of the men and the way they had treated his daughters, but to his wife, they both held great advantage in being very prospective husbands. To Mrs. Bennet, this was most fortunate!
That evening, he felt it essential to speak with his favourite daughter. “Lizzy, what your mother has, in effect, forced you to do is not the wisest thing she has ever done. I know how much you dislike this Darcy fellow. If he gives you any trouble, if he is at all discourteous to either of you, I want you to return home immediately! Ten thousand a year or not! And as for Jane and her Mr. Bingley, I beg the same for her. I do not want my two daughters returning home beaten down and broken hearted. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Father.” Elizabeth reassured him with a gentle, appreciative smile. “Do not worry about us.”
Her words to her father were as much words to herself. If only she could stop worrying about what might happen. Was she secure enough in her opinion of Charles' affections for Jane that once he saw her everything would be as it had been months ago? This was, after all, the main reason they were going.
She could not help but wonder also what would happen when she had to face Mr. Darcy again. What if he had recovered by the time they arrived at Pemberley? How would she explain her presence? Her heart thunderously pounded in her chest as she contemplated this. These were situations about which she could only speculate. She could plan and prepare in her mind, but in reality, she knew not how things would turn out! The only thing she knew for a certainty was that tomorrow they would take their leave for Pemberley, the great estate of which she had been asked to be mistress!
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