The Very Essence of Love Read online

  As the letter went on with remarkable compliments about Jane Bennet, Darcy put the letter down, unsure of how to feel about the whole matter. Georgiana’s spirits were positively happy, as he had not seen in a long while; still he could not help feeling vexed. It was a feeling rather than a certainty that Georgiana was much too impressed with her new friend. A feeling he explored with caution in relation to his past dealings with Charles Bingley and the lady in question.

  When he opened the second letter, which had the handwriting of Mr. Bingley on the envelope, he read the contents with even greater astonishment. Another female’s handwriting was revealed within the pages and this time he could not be more surprised to recognise it as belonging to Miss Caroline Bingley.

  “My dear Mr. Darcy,

  Only a matter of extreme urgency would compel me to presume to write to you and thus break with propriety. Consider it an act of friendship and care for a person for whom I feel a lot of affection and plenty of debt, and whom I would wish to protect from all harm, especially from unsavoury friendships.

  I speak now in all honesty, Mr. Darcy, when I say I am at a loss as to what to do, knowing what I know. I feel forced to reveal circumstances that have added to my fear that the schemes of a certain lady to ingratiate herself with your sister have been only for the purpose of attracting the attention of my brother.

  Last February, I received a letter from our old acquaintance from Hertfordshire, Miss Jane Bennet. The letter stated that she was in town, staying in the house of an aunt in Gracechurch Street. I paid her a visit as soon as I could, of course, and I soon came to realise that the sole purpose of her stay in town was to become reacquainted with my brother and renew her relationship with him.

  I am afraid that she is not willing to accept that my brother has changed his opinion of her. I could see that my words had little effect on her when I told her that Charles was occupied with other matters. I believed that she would come to realise it in time, however, much to my surprise, she has proved to be far more stubborn in her quest and I am afraid, less scrupulous. I admit to being heartbroken to have thought of her so highly, as we did when he first met her, thinking that she was the kind and meek person we met at Netherfield Park. We were so gravely deceived, my dear Mr. Darcy.

  You know my degree of affinity for Georgiana. It has always been disinterested and done in the spirit of true affection. I am not ashamed to admit now that I am worried about her friendship with Miss Bennet. I know not the exact circumstances of their acquaintance, but I refuse to believe it was the accident Miss Bennet claimed it to be. As I said, I do not know how it started, but I do know what followed.

  Miss Jane Bennet has employed all her skills to become a permanent companion to Miss Darcy, leading her to believe that they are excellent friends. At every opportunity she manages to get herself invited to your house under various pretexts. I was told that she even managed to remain there overnight on one occasion on account of some silly excuse.

  Miss Darcy trusts her as any generous soul as hers would do, but I am afraid she does not know anything about the events in Hertfordshire and therefore does not suspect the ambitions of this lady. I believe none of this will turn out well.

  Please, Mr. Darcy, instruct me how to proceed further,

  Yours,

  Caroline Bingley

  Darcy’s state of mind fluctuated wildly as he read the pages. He felt incredulity and vexation at the same time, determined to make sense of it all. He had two letters, one from Georgiana and one from Miss Bingley, two summaries of the friendship that tied Miss Jane Bennet to his sister, two different versions demanding to be believed. Georgiana was inexperienced at life and much too young to be a good judge of character, as had been proven when Wickham convinced her to trust him. On the other side, there was Miss Bingley who, in spite of her true affection for Georgiana – for it was true, he had seen it to be so – was less given to being objective, considering she had never agreed to Charles’s interest in Miss Bennet in the first place. And in the middle, there was the depiction of Miss Jane Bennet, that so little resembled what he knew or thought he knew of her.

  With the exception of her sister Elizabeth, Jane was the only person who seemingly possessed common sense in the Bennet family. She neither made a spectacle of herself as her mother did, nor showed an inclination for being superficial, like her younger sisters who were unrestrained in their follies. Instead, she always appeared reserved – perhaps too reserved – and barely engaged with anyone other than her favourite sister, never revealing her true self or emotions.

  “Of course, each man is a mystery,” Darcy mused, “but there are some one should be cautious of.”

  From Darcy’s observations, Jane Bennet had never reciprocated the interest his friend had shown in her. The separation he caused was done for good reasons and he did not regret it. Charles had suffered greatly from having so little of his affection returned but Darcy now believed him to be on the path to recovery, for in his last letters he had barely mentioned Jane Bennet’s name or recalled Netherfield Park.

  “Could Miss Bennet be capable of such a falsehood? To pretend that she is a friend of my sister just to ensnare a husband? I cannot believe it!”

  Yet, she had appeared at Netherfield Park in a downpour, riding unprotected on horseback, when she knew full well that it was reckless. There was no doubt in Darcy’s mind that the stunt had been deliberate and had achieved its goal of keeping Miss Bennet at Netherfield and therefore in the way of its master, for several days. Mr. Bingley had been content, certainly, happy even to have her so near to him. Darcy had maintained his usual reserve, while Miss Bingley expressed her doubts openly against Miss Bennet. But who had been the author of the stunt?

  Mrs. Bennet made no secret of her wish to have at least one of her daughters advantageously married. Darcy knew not how much influence she had over those daughters - at least Elizabeth had proved that she was much more inclined to agree with her father, excluding her from his suspicions.

  Charles Bingley was an excellent choice for any young girl, and his 5,000 pounds a year was often found much too tempting to resist for any mother or unwed daughter.

  “… a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.” Mrs. Bennet, for sure, believed it to be so. He had heard her express her view at Netherfield Park to anyone who would listen. “I wonder what such pressure, to acquire a husband at any cost, would cause a young lady to do; perhaps not even Miss Bennet can resist?”

  Doubt nagged at him, preventing him from making up his mind on the matter. He knew he had seen too many individuals change their character when new interests presented themselves. He could not allow Georgiana’s heart to be broken once more, and this time by someone who pretended to be a friend. Miss Elizabeth’s closeness to Wickham, Miss Bingley’s letter, his own doubts about Miss Jane Bennet had him confounded.

  Darcy knew there was only one person who could provide him with some clarity on the matter. Miss Elizabeth. However, the resolve he had had in the morning, when all he could think was to go and ask her to marry him, had dissipated like fog rising above the lake.

  Chapter 8

  When Elizabeth returned from her walk with Maria Lucas, Mr. Collins gathered the family to announce that the following day, all of them were invited to dine at Rosings Park. Lady Catherine herself had delivered the news earlier as she stopped her carriage to tell them of the happy event.

  Words of advice were given freely on what all of them should wear, but when met with the reality that one of the guests had only thought of packing for a lighter journey, Mr. Collins’ idea of impressing her ladyship deflated. Maria Lucas was the most curious about what she would be feasting on, only to be tempered lightly by her brother-in-law.

  “I do hope she will serve desserts,” Charlotte said, “I find myself craving her ladyship’s sweets often, nothing gives me more pleasure.”

  Alarmed by his wife’s words, thinking she was encouraging her sister to co
ntinue on the subject, Mr. Collins added, “Her ladyship prefers her dinners to be frugal. She says it invites modesty and humbleness both to her and her guests. And I believe she is right. Besides, it is never advised that we should go to sleep on a full stomach.”

  Elizabeth wished for nothing, or at least, nothing that could be on the menu tempted her. She felt a strange sensation at the thought of seeing Mr. Darcy again. She knew she was less inclined now to be discourteous to him.

  She now felt a closeness to him, as though she had never parted from him since they rode together on his horse in the rain. In her chamber, she often watched herself in the mirror replicating his gesture of putting her rebel hair back in its place. It alarmed her how much she liked the gesture, how she would have liked him to repeat it and how she felt a lack of remorse for any of the things that had happened that day. She was content to have a secret of her own, a secret that was mutually shared with the gentleman in question, as a most comforting thought to rely on for instant happiness. She knew she had no desire for anyone else to know about it. However, from time to time a question rose in her mind. What did she wish to happen now? For something had happened, something that escaped her reason or her will. Should she pretend that nothing indeed was troubling her? That she had forgotten all about it?

  She had no answer to give herself.

  In the afternoon, Elizabeth joined the rest of the party and for lack of any other entertainment, began reading Mr. Collins’ Bible, an activity much-praised by her cousin. When Mr. and Mrs. Collins left to visit a sick parishioner and Maria Lucas and her father retired to rest in their respective chambers, Elizabeth found herself on her own.

  There was no correspondence to catch up with, neither from Jane, nor her father, so Elizabeth pondered on what else she could do inside the house. She decided at last to rearrange her luggage, something she had done twice already.

  Minutes later, a knock on the door interrupted her work and Mrs. Collins’s maid announced there was a visitor waiting in the parlour. Elizabeth could imagine only one person who could require her presence, or perhaps she wished it was THAT person. Her breathing quickened, unsure of what she was feeling. She longed to see him again, however, she did not imagine he would come here to talk to her. “Something must have happened,” Elizabeth thought, and allowed herself a few more minutes before she joined her guest in the parlour.

  Mr. Darcy was standing by the window, where she had been seated that morning. His countenance was tense, not soft or serene like the last time he had been here. He was more the Mr. Darcy she had seen in Meryton, who invited no cordiality, and Elizabeth signalled to the maid that she was allowed to leave the room but to leave the door open.

  Mr. Darcy bowed to her as soon as he saw her enter the room. Elizabeth smiled in return and invited Mr. Darcy to take a seat.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Collins are out,” she began for a lack of subject between them.

  “Yes, I know. I saw them leave,” he replied, much to Elizabeth’s surprise. “I had hoped we would be able to speak alone.” Elizabeth’s hands involuntarily clenched in her lap with a sense of imminent danger, announced by the lack of affection in his voice. Mr. Darcy continued, “First of all, I wish to ask your forgiveness for my unpardonable behaviour the other day.”

  “I do not understand, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth spoke before she could acknowledge the hurt in her voice.

  Mr. Darcy was in turn surprised by her intervention, but without taking his gaze off of her, he explained, “Miss Elizabeth, I have taken too many liberties with you, and even though the circumstances allowed them, I still feel it was wrong to have acted the way I did. It has been fortunate enough that no one has seen us in each other’s company. It would have carried serious consequences.”

  Elizabeth said nothing, trying to make sense of what Mr. Darcy was telling her. “He came here to tell me he regretted what he did the other day. And I had expected… what did I expect of him? To come here and declare his love? How silly of me!” When she decided upon the best thing to reply, she said calmly, “I have been thinking the same thing, Mr. Darcy. I feel it is advisable that we both forget it happened. I was at fault anyway.”

  Darcy nodded and Elizabeth felt as if she had received a most terrible blow, from which she struggled to rise. Oh, how she wished Mr. Darcy would conclude his visit and leave her to cry in peace. But he did not. Instead, he remained where he was, determined to make more polite conversation.

  “When will you be returning to Longbourn?”

  Taking a deep breath to regain her composure, Elizabeth replied that it had been decided for the following week. Mr. Darcy seemed to agree that it was a reasonable time to prepare for such a journey and wished to know further whether she would be returning to London to visit her sister. The question in itself was harmless, asked with the same politeness as the preceding ones, but there was something in Mr. Darcy’s tone that seemed to be misplaced. Elizabeth could not exactly distinguish where the conversation was headed, but she decided to follow it through.

  “No, the plan is to return directly to Meryton, providing Sir William’s business matters will not interfere with our schedule.”

  “I expect you are eager to be with your family once more. Your sisters must miss you terribly, especially Miss Bennet.”

  “My sister is still in London. She is staying at my aunt Gardiner’s house.”

  “Will she remain long there?” he asked, and Elizabeth had the suspicion that the conversation Mr. Darcy was carrying had reached its intended subject. ,

  Elizabeth looked Mr. Darcy in the eyes, “It depends,” she replied shortly.

  “On what?” This time Mr. Darcy’s voice was no longer concealing his need for an answer and Elizabeth knew he was asking for something concrete.

  “Mr. Darcy, I am not sure what exactly you would like me to tell you.” Elizabeth’s boldness caught Mr. Darcy by surprise, allowing him to utter what was of most interest to him.

  “I have heard that Miss Bennet and my sister, Georgiana, are visiting each other frequently.”

  “I have been told so myself. And am I to understand that you do not approve of their friendship?”

  Mr. Darcy gave no answer, although to Elizabeth his silence was enough of a response.

  “Miss Elizabeth, my sister is very dear to me and I would not wish her to be taken advantage of…”

  “Advantage?” Elizabeth cried, infuriated by the claim in his words. “What could my sister do to harm Miss Darcy?” Mr. Darcy gave no answer, preferring to ask something else entirely.

  “Is it true that Miss Bennet came to London with the purpose of encountering Mr. Bingley? That she came to seek his attention?”

  Elizabeth found herself lost for words for a few moments, silenced by his harsh words. She was hurt and mortified to have her beloved Jane thought of in such a vile way. A schemer that would employ any means to get the attention of a man.

  “My sister Jane is not like that,” Elizabeth spoke at last with disappointment in her voice. “And to answer your question, yes, she did come to London hoping there would be an encounter with Mr. Bingley. And why would she not? Mr. Bingley is … was a friend, one that seemed to care about Jane.”

  “Yes, he was the only one to care about the connection.”

  “How dare you, Mr. Darcy? When you know what you have done to separate them. I feel you are utterly unjust. A man can use whatever means at his disposal to succeed in his plans, but a young lady will be at once viewed in the worst possible way if she does the same.”

  “I only acted to protect a friend, Miss Elizabeth!”

  “To protect him. From what? From being happy with a woman who is the kindest, most generous young lady I have ever known…”

  “… and who is compelled by her mother to get married at any cost?”

  “My mother? What has my mother done to give you that impression?”

  “You know very well, Miss Elizabeth, that your mother wasted no opportunity in announcing an impen
ding wedding between Mr. Bingley and your sister, knowing full well that there was no formal attachment between them. Even your father made some suggestions of the fact. Mrs. Bennet must surely have known that Mr. Bingley would hear of her words. She perhaps hoped he would be pressured to make her wish happen sooner. Can you deny, Miss Elizabeth, that Miss Bennet was sent deliberately on horseback in the rain to provide an excuse for your sister’s longer stay at Netherfield Park!”

  Elizabeth would have liked nothing better than to return him the same cruel, cutting words, but she knew he was correct in what he was saying. Her mother had done all those things, but they were never done with the mind of an unscrupulous woman. If there was something to blame her mother for, it was her lack of common sense and wit, for which Elizabeth had often been ashamed of also. How cruelly Mrs. Bennet’s actions had been turned against her.

  “My sister Jane has never…,” Elizabeth stopped, defeated, and unable to continue. At last, she rose from her chair, looked him in the eyes and said with sorrow. “Good day, Mr. Darcy!”

  Chapter 9

  As the afternoon progressed, Darcy grew more morose and found himself incapable of enjoying Colonel Fitzwilliam’s company at Rosings Park. The Colonel had arrived at last; it had been late in the morning, as Darcy learned later, about the same time he was visiting Miss Elizabeth at the Parsonage.

  Darcy revealed to no one, not to Lady Catherine or his cousins, the reason for his absence or the nature of his ill-humour. He was puzzled himself about how the interview with Miss Elizabeth had concluded. Or how he should act from that moment on with her. He wished he had time to think, and at the same time he wished he could leave Rosings Park at once. He had intended to do precisely that, but on returning to the house, he discovered that Colonel Fitzwilliam had arrived at last and he cancelled his plans at once.