Page 132 of Bitterness of Spirit & The Painting

When he returned to the cottage it was almost dark and he was met by Stevens and Mrs Clarke’s concerned enquiries, as though he had been missing for hours. He apologised for worrying them, then asked if his room was available. It was—and quite clean and reasonably arranged, as he noticed when he opened the door. His luggage was already unpacked and his valet was awaiting his instructions.

“Stevens, please bring me something to eat, if there is anything. And then you will not be needed until morning.”

When the valet had left, Darcy moved over to the window. It was a warm night, with a clear sky full of stars and a bright moon mirrored in the water. The same sound of the pianoforte could be heard again, intriguing and enjoyable. Near the shore, he spotted the silhouettes of two women, walking arm in arm. Considering they were alone at that late hour, they must live in one of the houses nearby. As he watched the strangers, he felt disquieted again, for no apparent reason.

A moment later, Darcy found himself wondering if Elizabeth liked the sea and wondered if she would enjoy taking long walks on the shore, with the waves gently caressing her ankles and the breeze dancing in her hair. Even if she did, he knew he would never have the opportunity to join her and that he was only torturing himself in vain.

Chapter 4

Elizabeth woke up in excellent spirits, excited to start the new day the moment the first sounds entered through the open window.

The previous evening, after dinner, attracted by the beauty of the bright night, she had begged Jane to accompany her on a short walk along the shore. Her sister eventually accepted, reluctant to be out alone in an unfamiliar place, with the promise that they would remain in full sight of the house. However, once they were out, the stunning view, the call of the gently lapping water where the stars and the moon were reflected, the cool breeze—all were inviting and welcoming them, so the short stroll had lasted more than an hour. When they returned to their chamber it was almost midnight, and they needed another hour to finally fall asleep.

The proximity of the sea brought Elizabeth more distressing musings, about a young, naïve and sweet girl, enchanted by the sea view and deceived by a rascal. Every time she thought of Wickham, her anger increased—more towards herself than towards him. He was a scoundrel who had taken advantage of his godfather’s affection and kindness, thrown away all his chances to build himself an honourable and comfortable life and chosen instead to live in deception and corruption, using seduction for personal gain. And she had fallen for his charming manners, blinded by her prejudice against Darcy!

Another concern that troubled her exceedingly was Darcy’s opinion of her, since he knew Wickham’s nature only too well. Considering she had defended Wickham so forcefully, could he have imagined that she was concealing an improper relationship or feelings for that man? While she did not regret for a moment rejecting Darcy’s proposal, she could not bear the shame of knowing he might think ill of her or despise her.

Unexpectedly, and for no particular reason, Elizabeth’s concern moved to Lydia. Her youngest sister would be in Wickham’s company and such a circumstance was distressing, although Lydia could not be the recipient of his interest. She decided to visit Lydia that very day and to invite her to stay with them—as propriety required.

Ellen and Margaret’s impromptu and noisy entrance woke up Jane and brought a smile to Elizabeth’s face, making her put her worries aside for the moment.

“Lizzy, Mama says we will have a bathing machine. Mrs Crawford said she has rented one for all her guests. We are her guests too. And she said the water is not too deep and we can swim. Do you know how to swim, Lizzy?” Margaret asked.

Little Ellen replied with superior knowledge, “Of course she does! Lizzy knows how to do everything!”

Elizabeth laughed and embraced her two nieces, kissing their cheeks. “I do not know how to swim, or if I once knew, I have forgotten. But we will learn together.”

“George says he is an excellent swimmer, but I am sure he is only bragging,” Margaret continued, with a trace of jealousy, just as her brother burst into the room, ready to contradict her.

After a noisy breakfast, the party prepared to head towards the beach. But before that, Elizabeth sent a note to Mrs Forster, kindly asking for the opportunity to call on her and to visit their sister Lydia.

∞∞∞

Being in the room that had once sheltered his mother’s struggles only added more torment to Darcy’s already perturbed state. The chamber was comfortable and had been cleaned properly, but he barely slept at all, spending the night listening to the sound of the wind and the waves.

Anxiety overwhelmed him as he felt caught in the middle; he suspected that the story described in the letters happened in Brighton, and it lasted more than one summer. Considering his mother had always stayed in Mrs Clarke’s cottage and nowhere else since she was very young, the events must have occurred somewhere in the neighbourhood; Lady Anne had not been the sort of a woman to seek out adventures.

He was tempted to make enquiries but did not trust his composure enough to address the right questions. And what could he ask? Protecting his mother’s secret was much more important than satisfying his own curiosity; he wished he possessed the strength to forget about the past, but he did not it seemed. His thoughts spun between the letters sent to his mother and the one he had sent to Elizabeth, and he could not decide which of those circumstances caused him more pain.

The upcoming meeting with Bingley was another reason for distress. He had decided to confess the truth to his friend, including his deception regarding Jane Bennet’s presence in town, and he worried that the disclosure might affect their friendship. He also feared discovering how much his arrogant presumption had hurt Bingley. Regardless, their discussion must take place without delay, face to face; his friend deserved as much consideration.

He looked out of the window. The beach was empty at that early hour. He briefly considered he had not indulged in sea bathing for more years than he could even remember. His mother used to come to Brighton at the doctor’s recommendation, until the year she passed. The sun, the salty breeze and the sea bathing appeared to be beneficial to her fragile health, but sadly it had not been enough.

A knock at the door startled him and his valet entered.

“Sir, breakfast is ready. Would you care to have it downstairs or shall I bring it up here?”

“I will come down, thank you. I hope Mrs Clarke will have a cup of tea with me. Has she found help for the household?”

“Yes. She has hired three maids and a young man who will help in the house and with the garden. Dickson and I will help them too. All the newly hired staff are related to her present servants. They do not have references but—”

“I have no concerns about references in this case. Did you find appropriate rooms for you and Dickson?”

“Yes, sir. There are plenty of rooms in the house, they only needed to be cleaned and arranged.”

“Good. Bingley will arrive later today, please make certain he and his man are properly accommodated.”

“Of course, sir.”