Elizabeth Bennet
Yet no answer came. The days she spent in London were filled with expectation; whenever a message arrived, she ran to the door, only to return to her room in greater despair. It made no sense. He had proposed to her; he had been deeply interested in her; and yet his sudden silence was wholly uncivil. He might at least have sent a note saying that everything between them was at an end—but some answer was necessary. He could not be so angry as to ignore her forever. Every morning she awoke with hope, and every evening she fell asleep regretting that she had written at all.
Returning to Longbourn was still more difficult. In spite of her aunt’s promise that any letter from him would be sent by express, Elizabeth’s impatience made each day a torment.Jane’s approaching wedding only increased the strain. She was obliged to laugh and assume a gaiety she did not feel. Her only remaining hope was that she might see him at the wedding.
The last two days before the great event were the most difficult of all. As she approached Netherfield with her father, she ardently hoped that Darcy had already arrived. Indeed, it was her principal reason for going that morning, for the house and gardens were in such a state of bustle that no quiet pleasure could be expected there. Servants were at work everywhere, completing the arrangements, while the parlours, the music-room, and even the library were full of noise and laughter. She longed to see him, and yet she was afraid.
As she wandered through the house in search of Jane or her aunt, Elizabeth found it impossible to avoid the crowd. At last, she determined to ask a maid to conduct her to Mrs Gardiner’s room. The Gardiners had arrived the day before and were to remain at Netherfield until the wedding as special guests of the bride.
She found her aunt before the mirror, making her final preparations for the visit to Longbourn. But the moment she saw Elizabeth, her tranquil manner changed entirely. Something had happened—something connected with him.
Elizabeth sat down upon the sofa and murmured, “He is not coming…”
Mrs Gardiner only nodded and came to sit beside her.
“But why?” Elizabeth asked in desolation. “He is Mr Bingley’s closest friend. It is because of me. He would not see me again.”
Mrs Gardiner remained silent, for she herself believed as much. Yet seeing Elizabeth so overcome, she attempted another explanation.
“It seems they have some family gathering that he could not avoid.”
But Elizabeth dismissed the suggestion with a slight movement of her hand. Consolation was useless. He was not coming because of her.
“It is over. His absence from such an important event is the clearest proof that he wishes to have nothing more to do with me. I must accept it and try to be happy for Jane.”
Mrs Gardiner approved the resolution with all her heart. Among the guests, she had already noticed one or two young gentlemen who might, in time, help Elizabeth forget so painful a disappointment.
“Jane wishes you to accompany them to Bath for their wedding journey,” she said, but Elizabeth shook her head.
“No—I am happy for her, and I shall assist in every way I can, but I cannot go with them. Pray make her understand. I am certain Kitty and Lydia would be delighted to go.”
There was no more hope. Hard though it was to submit to such a conclusion, she must do so. She would probably meet him again, sooner or later; but by absenting himself from the wedding, he had made his meaning plain. It was over, and his resolution final.
“My dear,” Mrs Gardiner said, as she prepared to leave the room, “the best thing for you would be to spend the summer in London with us.”
Elizabeth tried to appear cheerful, but the ceremony itself was difficult to bear. Part of her stood with Jane at the altar, in the deep love she felt for her sister; but another part could not help imagining that she too might have been a bride. Two months after his proposal, she saw herself for an instant…and Darcy beside her.
Yet it was over. And a few days after the wedding, Elizabeth accompanied the Gardiners back to town.
Chapter 12
Darcy arrived at the Matlock estate in Leicestershire on the very day Netherfield celebrated Bingley’s marriage to Miss Bennet. He had accompanied Lady Catherine and Anne, while Georgiana had travelled with Lord and Lady Wharton a few days earlier.
It had been a comfortable journey, as he travelled alone in his carriage; still, it was not an entirely pleasant one, for from time to time his aunt chose to change carriages to keep him “company,” as she expressed it more than once.
In the end, it was only natural that he should accompany them, and he endeavoured not to betray his true feelings.
Yet, it was distressing not to be present at his friend’s wedding. Almost from the beginning of their friendship they had agreed that whichever married first should have the other as a witness, but that promise could not now be fulfilled. He could not face Miss Elizabeth—not until some of his resolutions were accomplished.
The colonel had urged him—more than once—to reconsider his decision regarding her, but Darcy could not act in such a manner. It was not in his nature; neither his educationnor his character permitted him to be uncertain or hesitant, or to disregard what he considered his duty to family and society. Miss Elizabeth was too independent—not suited to him.
They arrived late in the evening, and, to Darcy’s relief, were conducted directly to their rooms by a drowsy footman.
Eager to rest at last in a proper bed, he tried in vain to sleep. In spite of his fatigue, rest would not come. The actions of the previous week weighed heavily upon him, yet it was already impossible to retreat. He was neither calm nor entirely resigned. The day before, while he slumbered in the carriage, he had a strange dream: his mother was angrily scolding him, her beautiful eyes on fire in an attitude uncommon for her. He woke with a feeling of loss and dissatisfaction impossible to overcome.
He attempted to persuade himself that it arose only from his absence at Bingley’s wedding, but he knew it to be false. To have gone to Netherfield would have been to depart from the course he had chosen a week before.
When at last he fell asleep, the night seemed scarcely to have passed, for he was awakened by loud knocking at his door, followed by laughter. He recognised at once his cousins’ attempt to rouse him and carry him off on a shooting party. He was tempted to refuse, but then considered how slowly the hours would pass if he remained indoors. He sprang from his bed and was soon ready.
