“They would have been more fortunate if they still had their mother. And they would have done so if my actions had been more thoughtful and more determined.”
“Your actions, sir?” she enquired, stopping and looking at him directly.
He hesitated and averted his eyes momentarily.
“Yes, my actions. This unfortunate case is an example of what I spoke of earlier.”
“Earlier?”
“Concerning Wickham…”
She needed a moment to realise, then she caught her breath as the revelation freed her from her previous painful suspicions. Mr. Wickham was the father! How could she have been so foolish, so unjust, as to suspect even for an instant that it could have been Mr. Darcy? She felt both relieved and deeply ashamed.
“Mr. Wickham… The children were born before your father died, I assume? Please forgive me if my questions are intrusive. I would not mind if you did not answer me — I have no right to enquire.”
“Do not apologise, please. I have already trusted you with matters that I have confessed to no other soul. I have no reasonto distrust you now. Yes, they were born almost two years before my father died. It was the event that caused my quarrel with my father and almost estranged us.”
“Did your father disapprove of you supporting the orphans?”
“No, but he also did not disapprove of Wickham’s crime of seducing a maid who was almost a child herself. His crime was even worse — he sent the girl away from Pemberley and placed her in a small cottage, where she gave birth with only one woman to help her. He did not fetch the doctor, did not inform us where the girl was, so she bled to death a few days later. It was that woman who told a servant where the children were, and the servant informed Mrs. Reynolds.”
“Dear Lord…”
“Wickham claimed he was not the father and that the young maid was involved with other men too, which we all knew was not true. And my father was dreadfully calm — he said every young man has some such issue, and many gentlemen of consequence have several children they do not even know about. I am sorry, this is not a subject I should discuss with a young lady.”
“No, please… I am glad you did. Poor girl. What a tragedy… But why did you say your actions were at fault? I believe you did everything you could.”
“The girl was a servant here. I was the only one who knew Wickham’s true nature. I should have been more decided. I should have thrown him out!”
“Yes but…even if you had done that, he would have caused similar tragedies in other places. You cannot protect everyone from Mr. Wickham’s vicious character.”
“Sadly, that is true. I shall still try to do my best, though, even if that means taking drastic measures against Wickham. Just as I shall do my best to explain to Bingley my involvement in asituation where I should not have interfered —including your sister’s presence in in town.”
She looked at him in disbelief, her eyes moist with gratitude.
“You are an excellent man, Mr. Darcy. I shall never forgive myself for failing to see it sooner,” she said. They were standing inches apart, facing each other.
“I must be completely honest and admit that I do not regret rejecting your proposal in April,” she whispered, and his expression became stern. “My feelings at that time were not of a nature to allow me to accept your proposal for a good reason. If I had, I would have deceived you, and for that, I would have deserved your contempt. But I shall never forgive myself for not recognising your good nature and honourable character. And for believing nefarious reports without even asking for evidence.”
“You are a brave woman, Miss Bennet. Being loyal to your beliefs and your feelings is proof of your worthiness. I never doubted that, not even when anger and resentment shadowed my judgment.”
“You give me more credit and more consideration than I feel I deserve, Mr. Darcy.”
“I feel you deserve much more, Miss Bennet.”
“To that, I can only express thanks and gratitude, especially when it comes from such a man. And from such an excellent artist. I am no expert, but your portraits looked beautiful to me,” she added, allowing a little smile to dissipate the heavy tension between them.
He looked surprised by her little joke, but a smile appeared on his lips too.
“I am not an excellent artist. Indeed, the portraits looked beautiful to me too because the model inspired me. Inspired me to paint but also to reconsider my behaviour and to admit my errors.”
For a moment, there was silence again, until she said, “I must leave now.”
“Of course… Good night, Miss Bennet,” he whispered with a bow, briefly taking her hand to his lips.
She hurried out, her heart beating wildly, her breathing irregular, and she only stopped when she entered her room. There, she lay on the bed, closing her eyes. Another brief meeting with Mr. Darcy had revealed, once again, the excellence of his character and the flaws in hers. Now that the truth had been exposed, she dared admit to herself that she had experienced a slight, small, yet painful suspicion that Mr. Darcy could have been the one involved with the maid — the father of the two children. She had suspected Mr. Wickham too, but the seeds of doubt had been there in her mind. She felt guilty and furious with herself for still being unfair to Mr. Darcy.
For confessing to him that she did not regret her rejection, she felt relieved and content. In April, he had declared he loved and admired her ardently. Even without all the reasons that caused her resentment, she had not loved him, and accepting his marriage proposal would have been for prudence only. A marriage in which one is ardently in love and the other only prudent might be more painful than one with no love at all.
