“How dare he?” Elizabeth blasted out.
“What?” The Colonel stared at her confused.
“Who does he think he is, God?”Elizabeth had stopped walking and when the Colonel looked at her, her tears were freely flowing down her angry face.
“Miss Bennet, I beg your pardon. What is the matter? What have I said to give you such distress?”
Elizabeth just shook her head trying to wipe her tears and failing miserably.
“Miss Bennet, I beg your pardon.” He repeated hopelessly. Then he gasped. “Miss Bennet, could it be that the lady I mentioned is you?”
“No, no. No… I wish it were, Colonel, so I could laugh at them all. No, she is my most beloved sister. The sweetest and kindest lady you can ever hope to meet anywhere and Mr Darcy has the temerity to slander her, calling her a fortune hunter and not good enough for his friend.”
The Colonel swallowed nervously, not knowing where to look. Darcy was going to kill him and this time, he had to admit, his cousin would be within his right to torture him, shredding him to pieces.
“Miss Bennet, it might not be the same friend. I daresay Darcy has many friends who are young and in great need of his guidance. I am sure your sister is the best of ladies and Darcy would never intentionally slander her.”
“When did this ‘guidance’ happen to have taken place?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam pretended to think, but by now he knew very well that Darcy had only been in one place since last autumn and it was Miss Bennet’s county of Hertfordshire.
“I am not certain.” He said pathetically.
“Last autumn?” Elizabeth smirked.
“Possibly.” He said weakly, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole.
“This friend was Mr Bingley.” She said looking away into the distance. “The wealthy son of a man in trade and Mr Darcy thinks that a caring, honest and if I might add, very beautiful daughter of a landed gentleman is not good enough for him.”
“Miss Bennet…”
“No, Colonel, please do not try to redeem him for he is unredeemable. Mr Darcy is the most odious man I have ever known. Mr Wickham was totally right and I am only sorry that I cannot leave this place immediately and never look upon that arrogant face ever again.”
“Mr Wickham?” Suddenly the Colonel’s voice was as hard as flint and all vestige of empathy was gone.
“Yes, Mr George Wickham!” Elizabeth tried to match the hardness in his voice. “I know all about their history and how unfeeling and monstrously ungenerous… and cruel Mr Darcy was to his childhood friend.”
The Colonel snorted, “Cruel?” He looked at her with unwavering, cold blue eyes that for a brief moment discomposed her.
But she swallowed and recovered quickly, “I am sure, as his cousin you would take his side in this sad saga, which is commendable. But I have no need for such scruples and like Mr Wickham, I will add Mr Darcy’s name to my very short list of hated enemies.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam was getting angrier by the minute and before he insulted the lady in front of him he bowed stiffly and said, “I am sure you have long desired my absence, madam. Please accept my best wishes for your health and happiness. Good day Miss Bennet.”He then left her standing there, dumbfounded, looking at his retreating form and wonderingwhy he had gotten so red in the face, obviously struggling to bring his temper into good regulation.
“His support of his cousin is admirable” Elizabeth said “as was to be expected. But I need not concern myself with either one. I am done with this place and will apply to Charlotte for my leaving immediately. I just hope she is feeling a little better this morning.”And picking up her skirts, she ran for a few minutes to clear her head and heart from the resentment that was threatening to overcome her.
Chapter 2
Darcy was pacing inside his bedchamber.
His patience with his aunt Lady Catherine de Bourg was wearing thin and he felt he had to leave the place or go mad.
Yet the difficulty of quitting Kent lay in an undeniable and exquisitely painful consideration: that in leaving the neighbourhood he must also leave behind Miss Elizabeth Bennet, together with every hope of soon claiming her as his own.
After all the exertion he had employed to banish her from his thoughts, and to persuade himself that she was in no respect a suitable candidate for the honour of becoming Mrs Darcy, he now found himself, most unwillingly, on the very brink of offering her his hand in marriage.
Since the autumn he had battled, often in vain, against the strong inclination that had taken root within his heart; yet he could struggle no longer. He was now persuaded beyond any reasonable doubt that should he attempt to walk away from her, his life would be condemned to a perpetual disquiet, forever measuring every lady of his acquaintance against her. She had quite effortlessly revealed to him the very picture of an ideal woman, and he knew he could search the whole of the kingdom without discovering a single lady who might, in the least, compare.
It was folly to even attempt to replace her with the insipid beauties that populated most drawing rooms in London. In fact the richer the women the more aggravating they were, for they were entitled but rarely intelligent, let alone witty.
