Tears started to well up in her eyes, and she turned her head. “I should not have asked. It is still very painful for me to think about.”
He saw her distress. “Miss Elizabeth…”
But she raised her hand. “Excuse me. I should not have brought it up. I must go or I will be late.” She quickened her pace, though he followed.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said earnestly, “I was officious. It was none of my business who Charles chose to love. I should never have interfered. Will you ever forgive me?”
She did not look at him. “I need to, especially now that Jane and Mr. Bingley are happily married. But we both suffered greatly. It was his fault too; he is easily led, and you and Miss Bingley are both strong-willed. Perhaps, in his place, even I would not have been able to stand up to the pressure.” Her voice faltered. “Excuse me, sir. I am not good company. Please excuse me. I prefer to be alone now.”
“As you wish, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
He stopped walking and watched as she hurried away, her handkerchief pressed to her eyes, her head bent. Every impulse urged him to follow, to offer comfort, but he remained rooted, mastering his own desire, knowing he must not show her undue attentions that might give her false hope. He had no designs upon her; nothing could ever come of the feelings he bore, and so, he turned away and walked back towards Rosings.
Chapter 32: Warned Away
A letter from Charlotte awaited Elizabeth when she returned to the parsonage. She broke the seal and read:
My dearest Lizzy,
I trust your visit to the parsonage is proving agreeable. You must write and tell me all about Hunsford, and give me a full account of the part of Kent where you are residing. I am curious to know what the house is like, and pray do not omit the kitchen. Does it have two ovens?
As for me, I am well. Only two days ago, I met your mother and Miss Farrow at the haberdasher’s. Your mother behaved with great propriety, and I could scarce recognize her as the same lady I had known. Indeed, I was so impressed that I am half tempted to ask my own mama to engage her as tutor to my father, for he stands in sad need of it.
Alexander sends his regards. His courtship of Miss King goes on delightfully. I daresay they will be married before the year is out, perhaps at Christmas. How charming a season for nuptials, especially if there should be snow upon the ground, so that all may look like a scene from a fairy tale.
I confess I once expected that Alexander would marry you, and that we should be sisters. Yet life turns upon the most curious hinges, does it not? I cannot help but think he would have remained devoted, had your fortune equaled Miss King’s. Still, you and I are sensible women. Weboth know that men must wed for wealth and connection, however much they may admire elsewhere.
Elizabeth, when you return, I pray you will discourage Alexander from cleaving to you so closely. Mary is already very jealous, and we would not wish anything to occur that might frighten her from his suit. I am sure you understand me. It would be even better if you could remain with Mary until Alexander is married.
Mamma calls me now to assist with dinner. I hope to hear from you soon, Elizabeth. Do write to me all about Hunsford and the parish.
Your affectionate friend,
Charlotte
Elizabeth set the letter down. Charlotte seeks to turn me aside, and it is no more than I expected. Her brother pays his addresses elsewhere, and Charlotte’s allegiance must be given to her new sister.
She looked down again at the letter. It was courteous, but it was also injurious. Elizabeth crumpled it and threw it into the fire, so that she should never be able to reread it. She prayed she might one day forget she had ever received it.
Chapter 33: Lydia Misbehaves Again
The improvement in his youngest daughter had moderately gratified Mr. Bennet since the arrival of the governess. Lydia was kept occupied with her studies, and the household was blessed with fewer of her shrieks and stomps. Peace, however, was short-lived.
When Kitty was invited to Hunsford Parsonage and permitted to go, Lydia’s temper blazed. She sulked, quarreled, and, one morning in a fit of rebellion, slipped from the nursery, crept down the stairs, and stole out of the back door like a thief bent on scandal.
Lydia wished to find her friends, her beloved officers, and she knew that in Meryton, at least some of them would be idling in the street in search of diversion. She ran most of the way to town and, when she arrived, immediately spied several young men in their red coats, among them Captain Denny, Mr. Pratt, and a few others.
She skipped up to them and twined her arm within her friend’s. “Denny! It has been ages since I saw you last.”
Captain Denny laughed. “Miss Lydia! We have not seen you for months. Where have you been hiding?”
Lydia tossed her head. “I have been dreadfully ill, and this is the first walk I have been able to manage since my recovery.”
Captain Pratt raised an eyebrow. “Indeed? I should never have guessed it, for you look as beautiful and as tempting as when I last saw you.”
Lydia laughed and swatted his arm. “I am quite well now, as you may see for yourself. Where is Captain Carter and the rest?”
