Chapter 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

E lizabeth had not meant to smile back. She was doing her best to remember all the reasons why she had chosen to walk away from this relationship, all the reasons why it was a terrible idea. She had felt every one of them quite reasonable a few hours past.

Yet, here he was, dropping everything in his life to escort her home to a family grieving a runaway sister. That thought sobered her again, pointing out just how justified he had been in looking down upon the Bennets of Longbourn.

He does not treat you as though he looks down upon you , came the thought, unbidden.

Certainly his sister did not, and he seemed to treat her with a mix of bewildered chagrin and obvious affection.

“I know my cousin behaved unforgivably towards you,” that sister said now, appearing thoughtful. “The colonel is slow to anger, but has a terrible temper once he truly gets riled. You would really have to meet my aunt in order to understand why he must have done it.”

Even Mr Darcy gave her a reprimanding look at this statement. “I do not believe Lady Matlock, at her worst, would condone his behaviour towards a lady,” he said sternly.

“No, of course not. She adores rules, and he, clearly, broke every tenet of good behaviour. But almost every time he is with her, somehow, at one point or other in every conversation, she brings up his marital prospects and goes through a long list of acceptable brides. You know she has preached the gospel of marrying well to him almost since his birth. It must be ingrained in his very nature by now, although for me, it seemed to have had an opposite effect. Every time she lectured me upon suitable husbands, it only made me like George better. Not that I blame her for my bad decision,” she added quickly. “Still, the idea of marrying someone who lacks a prodigious dowry must seem the most alarming of notions to our cousin.”

Mr Darcy rolled his eyes. “My circumstance is not the same as his. One would think he could tell the difference.”

“I do not mean that you should excuse him—only that his panic, in the face of my elopement, makes sense to me.”

“Panic? The man has fought in Spain. I hardly think he panicked .”

It was Miss Darcy who rolled her eyes this time. “Of course he did! All of his bluster to me, when he rarely blusters, and never before at me ? I could see he had worked himself into a state. Every time he mentioned what the earl might do or think of me, he grew more rattled. He probably thought he was saving you from Matlock’s wrath. ”

Mr Darcy scrubbed his hands through his hair, ruining his untouchable image as he regarded Elizabeth once more. “His decision to leave you to face an empty church was abominable, regardless. I have cut the connexion.”

Elizabeth started at this news. Never had she dreamt that he would do such a thing. He had done it, moreover, even though she had cut her connexion with him .

‘My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost forever.’

He had said that in her hearing, it was true, and apparently, he had meant it.

“You did not,” she said, shaking her head.

He frowned. “Of course I did. Why would I maintain any sort of kinship with a man who would hurt you? I can only regret that my own treatment of your sister led to his belief in the rightness of his actions. It was very lowering to realise that my blindness towards her feelings, and hence yours, caused me to trample upon them. I ought never to have interfered with Bingley in any fashion.”

Elizabeth found herself speechless at his admission.

“I told you so,” Miss Darcy said, looking altogether satisfied.

“So you did,” Mr Darcy said, nodding sadly at his sister. “So you did.”

And Elizabeth’s first doubts about her decision to refuse his second proposal began to seep into her mind.

Georgiana had hoped—despite warnings from both Mrs Annesley and Fitzwilliam—that putting the two of them in the carriage would solve their troubles. Briefly, when they were laughing at her—although she did not mind that —and her brother had admitted his own errors, she had thought it might be the beginning of some kind of new accord.

But they had both since lapsed into a silence that neither seemed able to break. The carriage rolled onwards at a brisk pace; Georgiana began to worry that her brother’s sturdy team was eating up the miles much too quickly, with fewer changes than was usually required.

Why was conversation so difficult? She had always been bad at it, never knowing what to say and when to say it, and often choosing poorly. She had lapsed into shyness simply as a protective means of minimising her own mistakes. Now, she was realising that Fitzwilliam was not so good at it either. She could tell that his mood was somewhat easier now, the set of his shoulders less tense, but likely Miss Bennet only saw his sober expression. As she considered it, she decided it must be a Darcy flaw. Perhaps it was why her brother gravitated towards Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Bingley, both so gregarious and—usually—socially adept. Come to think of it, her entire family was flawed, and in more ways than one.

“Well, this is a pickle.”

Both Miss Bennet and Fitzwilliam turned to her simultaneously, and she flushed—but there did not seem to be anything for it but to say aloud what she had been thinking.

“I wanted to assure Miss Bennet that Colonel Fitzwilliam is not representative of our family. Unfortunately, he is often, actually, of easier temperament than his father. Lady Matlock is equally arrogant, if usually better behaved. Viscount Ridley is not terrible, but he despises confrontation and would never stand up to both his father and brother, if it came to a row. As for Lady Catherine de Bourgh, she would be so furious at losing Fitzwilliam to you, Miss Bennet, when she has so long dreamt of him for her daughter Anne, she is unlikely to be very welcoming at all.”

Miss Bennet glanced at Fitzwilliam, looking more curious than appalled by the family’s bleak showing. “And how would Miss de Bourgh feel?”

“Oh, she would probably ignore you, but it would not be personal. She ignores most everyone, unless one is a horse.” Georgiana shook her head. “In retrospect, it is not at all remarkable that I ran away. It is surprising that I did not do it sooner.”

Miss Bennet smiled at her, reaching over to squeeze her hand, although Fitzwilliam closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. But Miss Bennet turned back to him.

“I understand why you have been, at times, mortified by my family’s behaviour. I simply cannot comprehend your conclusion that my sister, Jane, was not good enough to be a potential bride for Mr Bingley.”

It was Fitzwilliam’s turn to flush. “It is not that she was ‘not good enough’, not at all. You cannot believe I would think that. You and your sister have always demonstrated the highest standards of conduct and propriety. I simply wanted Bingley’s wife to love him for who he is, and not for what he brings to the marriage.”

Georgiana stared at him. “You cannot believe that the sister of the woman who has refused you for the most refined of motives, would marry Mr Bingley for wealth alone, can you? Would your sister Jane do that, Miss Bennet?”

“She would never.”

“Georgiana,” Fitzwilliam said through clenched teeth, all his briefly improved mood vanished. “Stop helping.”

“Oh, do keep on, Miss Darcy. I find you absolutely fascinating.”

“That was sarcasm, was it not?” Georgiana said in a small voice. This is why you should not speak! she lectured herself.

Miss Bennet sighed. “It was. I apologise. It is a bad habit of mine.”

“You were provoked,” Fitzwilliam said. “And, if I could be allowed to finish what I meant to say, I wrote to Bingley after we spoke the other day, and told him that I had discovered I was entirely mistaken in Miss Bennet’s feelings about him. I apologised to him for my error, as I will to you, now. I have not seen him since I left Netherfield, and have no idea whether his feelings for your sister held true—that is the other reason I had for caution, you see. In the past, he has fallen in and out of love so easily. I thought him too young to know his own mind. I still believe it, but it is not my responsibility to think for him. I overreached.”

It was Georgiana’s turn to sigh. It was not the passionate apology on bended knee that she would have preferred, but at least it was respectful. Unfortunately, Miss Bennet appeared bewildered, rather than impressed.

How much more time do I have to bring about a reconciliation? She feared they would have to drive to Wales in order to get these two to reunite.

Her brother turned to stare out of the window, instead of into Miss Bennet’s eyes. Anyone could see that his former betrothed was confused and vulnerable. Perhaps novels did not always provide the right guidance, but no hero worth his salt would look away from his one true love, instead of at her. What kind of books did Fitzwilliam read? Farming journals?

She remembered Mrs Annesley saying that she would do anything for Fitzwilliam’s happiness, even should he dismiss her for it. I broke them. I must mend them , she thought, with desperate resolution.

“Miss Bennet,” she said, cringing inwardly at what she knew Fitzwilliam’s response would be to her next words, “my brother has not been happy for one minute, I daresay, since he left you at Longbourn. The last few days since your final conversation, he has not been eating or shaving or even bathing, really.”

Fitzwilliam’s head snapped back to hers. “Georgiana!” he hissed. “Be quiet, now!”

“Oh, what is your dignity worth? You could not care less that Miss Bennet’s sister eloped with a blackguard, but you have yet to tell her! Your desk blotter is inscribed with a hundred renderings of her name, because she is all you think of! You are unhappy without her, desolately, desperately so, but she cannot know it because you will not say so!”

“I do not want her pity , foolish girl! As you have so obligingly pointed out, we belong to a family of selfish characters who will do their best to make her life a living hell, at least at first. What woman would knowingly choose it?”

But at this, Miss Bennet drew herself up. “You do not believe I can handle myself amongst difficult ‘characters’, is that it? Your memories of my own family have faded, have they?”

Georgiana felt her first stirrings of hope.

He looked at her incredulously, opened his mouth, and Georgiana’s worry flared, along with her eagerness to be useful. “Fitzwilliam,” she said, interrupting whatever he had meant to say, “before you speak, now would be the perfect time to kneel at her feet.”

He rolled his eyes, openly as frustrated with her as she was with him. “Life is not a silly novel, Georgiana!”

Miss Bennet gave him a withering look. “Do you mean novels wherein the protagonist would do anything for his friends? Or the novels in which the hero never loves by halves, but commits unreservedly to his passion? Those novels?”

She sounded sarcastic again, but there was something about her expression that made Georgiana’s breath catch.

Fitzwilliam looked at her for a long moment. “Miss Bennet…I dare not hound you.”

“You apparently did not feel this way when you threatened your breach of promise suit.”

“I was desperate. I would never have gone through with it. But my sister is perfectly correct, if a trifle over-informative. I have not had a moment’s respite from my regrets. If I could turn back time, I would do everything differently—including announcing our engagement, to the Bingleys and to anyone else who would listen, from the moment you agreed to it.”

Her eyes had grown…soft. Did he see it?

“You hurt me,” she said. “I thought you never would.”

Georgiana bit her lip, but Miss Bennet was not finished .

“My aunt says, however, that it is possible my expectations were a trifle too high.”

“Your expectations were perfect. It is my behaviour that was low,” Fitzwilliam countered immediately. “I would give anything for the chance to make it up to you. Or to try. Is it possible you might find forgiveness in your heart for my wretched performance? I fear no one could be so kind.”

“Well,” Miss Bennet answered soberly, although a dimple showed. “I agree that it is a risk. If you believe I could reverse my every decision against loving you, body and soul, merely out of some misguided sense of compassion, it would be unwise to ask. You might only make a great fool of yourself.” Her eyes were positively twinkling now. Had he noticed that ? Oh, Fitzwilliam, do not spoil this opportunity! Should I give him another hint?

However, he knelt as best he could in the small space before Miss Bennet with no hesitation whatsoever. “Already I have made a great fool of myself before you, too many times now to count. I can promise to be your fool for always, if you will agree to take me—I have noticed, you do like to laugh.”