Page 42 of Bitterness of Spirit

Her invitation was quickly accepted as her enthusiasm was contagious. Maria quickly declared herself interested in Regent’s Park too and wondered whether anyone else in Meryton had seen it.

The three of them left the house cheerfully. Within minutes, they were inside the park, and Elizabeth’s spirits rose along with her widening smile. Beauty, animation, and liveliness surrounded her.

Phaetons and horses, ladies and gentlemen, children and dogs, voices and laugher—all gathered together, enjoying the perfect weather.

They walked together along the edge of the lake, admiring the superb view and savouring the scent of the flowers.

“Lizzy, look at all these people. They are so elegant and fashionable. I believe at least half of them must be titled. I bet half the ton is here,” Maria whispered.

“Perhaps not half the ton, but they are elegant and fashionable indeed.” Elizabeth smiled. “But look at this garden of flowers! Is it not spectacular? I could walk along these paths every morning and every afternoon—and read the rest of the time in Mr. Wilson’s library.”

“I wonder whether we shall meet anyone we know,” Maria continued.

“I doubt that very much,” Elizabeth answered. “We know very few people who live near Hyde Park. And of the few we know, it is unlikely they might walk along the same paths that we do. It would be too much of a coincidence.”

As she spoke, she too looked around, secretly distressed by the same thought. Mr. Darcy lived on Park Lane too, as did the colonel. And Mr. Bingley had a house on Grosvenor Street. It was not impossible to happen upon any of them. But, as she said, too much of a coincidence for it to be anticipated.

She compelled herself to cease such ridiculous musings and to rejoice in the walk, the pleasant company, and wonderful surroundings. It was time to overcome useless remorse and put the past behind her.

For another hour, she did everything in her power to reach that goal. She congratulated herself on her success and was happy to watch Jane smiling at Maria’s jokes. A soft breeze cooled their heated cheeks, and they decided to stop for a cup of tea at a small shop by the lake.

As they moved in that direction, Elizabeth’s heart almost stopped, and her breathing caught in her throat. She prayed she was wrong in guessing the identity of a gentleman walking toward them at a slow pace. She stopped reluctantly as the man approached. Jane touched her arm to make her pay attention to the unexpected encounter while Maria gasped and whispered with apparent despair.

“Lizzy, look; it is Mr. Darcy! He is coming towards us!”

Her heartbeat and the pain in her temple told her it was true, moments before she finally gathered the courage to meet his eyes.

Chapter 11

Darcy had been in London for almost a week, but he was not any more tranquil than he was in Kent. The distance he put between himself and Elizabeth was of no use as his torment was not diminished by time or distance. Elizabeth was still present within him, capturing his reason and senses.

He was curious to know what she thought of his letter. Had she read it? Did she trust it? Did she accept his explanations? Did she change her opinion of him? What if they should meet again? What might she do? What should he do? Would she speak to him? Or would she avoid him entirely?

Questions, fears, and doubts increased his distress and allowed not an instant of peace. He found no remedy to such turmoil and no means to diminish it.

During the last two days, it had rained almost constantly, and the weather kept him inside. He was not eager for company anyway, but a brief meeting at the club with his uncle and cousins helped the time pass more quickly. He decided to leave for Pemberley, but the date of his departure remained unsettled. Secretly, barely daring to admit it to himself, he hoped that perhaps his cousin Richard might call on the Gardiners in Gracechurch Street and bring him some news. What use he might have from that, he could not say. He knew he was unreasonable, but he still hoped to hear something of her before leaving Town.

However, Richard was busy with his regiment for several days.

Bingley was also expected to return to Town. Perhaps he could meet him too, and see how he was, observe whether he still had any interest in Miss Bennet. If his affection was still ardent, then perhaps he deserved to be told she was in Town. The lesson he was given for his ungenerous and faulty interference, he could not forget, nor did he want to repeat it—neither the error nor the scolding.

A long-awaited, beautiful spring day finally arrived. When the sun eventually shone and the sky cleared, a touch of joy rose in Darcy’s spirit. The fresh air wafting from Hyde Park, the voices of the children, horses cantering along the paths together with pedestrians walking and chatting cheerfully—all made a lively picture.

From the balcony, Darcy looked at the people gathering in the park, increasing in number. Everybody enjoyed a pleasant day—especially Elizabeth. Such warm, sunny weather was excellent for walking, and she would certainly not miss such an opportunity. He wondered whether there were any parks near her aunt’s house. For a moment, he thought he might go and check on Gracechurch Street—just to see the house, to see if she had returned to Town. But he dismissed it immediately as being ridiculous. His aunt wrote to him and informed him that Miss Bennet had left Kent. Of that, there was no doubt.

As for sneaking to Cheapside to find the house of Elizabeth’s relatives, it was childish and silly.

He watched the park’s paths again. The distance was significant, and he could not perceive any faces or features. He knew he was unreasonable and that he could not trust either his mind or his eye as he thought he recognized Elizabeth several times. Of course, it could not be she; yet, his heart skipped a bit each time.

Finally, he lost his patience. It was a beautiful day, and the weather invited him outside. So he would not delay. He had no hope of meeting Elizabeth, but he would see other people, maybe some acquaintances. Perhaps he might exchange a few words. Maybe he would briefly call on the Matlocks too.

Darcy took his coat and left the house. His steps brought him toward Hyde Park at increased speed. A sense of impatience enveloped him. He felt nervous and troubled. He looked around, unreasonably hoping to see her, scolding his own foolishness. In front of him, several groups of ladies were walking and again, in his mind only, several of them resembled Elizabeth. He continued to walk in the shadow of the large trees. He then changed direction towards the lake. Another figure, another chimera reminded him of her. Then long minutes of solitary walking, alone with his thoughts and his turmoil, lonely in the midst of a crowd in a place full of people, voices, laughter.

And then, right there, in front of a tea shop by the water, the entire world narrowed to the single spot in front of him where Elizabeth stood still, staring at him, pale and astounded, holding tightly to her sister’s hand. Out of his dreams, in a painful reality, she still wore the traces of the most hurtful marriage proposal and rejection that ever existed.

He lost his voice, lost his strength, lost his courage. He found only enough composure to bow and say—

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Lucas. What a surprise to meet you here.”