Page 158 of Bitterness of Spirit & The Painting

The image of his friend, smiling and overjoyed, heading to speak to Miss Bennet hours before, shook Darcy out of his reflections.

He stood up hastily, brushing down his clothes. If Bingley had indeed proposed to Miss Bennet, he would expect Darcy to be there so he could share the news. Since he had promised to join the party and did not appear, Bingley would likely search for him and Mrs Clarke would certainly share his worries.

Nobody was aware of his whereabouts or of that place—so they must have been looking for him. If Bingley was engaged, that happy day would be shadowed by his worry about Darcy. That was not to be borne! He had no right to ruin his friend’s happiness once again, acting like a selfish, inconsiderate, arrogant fool!

In haste, he jumped into the saddle. He hesitated for a moment, then he realised that it might be more direct and a shorter distance to return home along the beach. So he turned his horse in haste, galloping back. The sun was slowly going down and the shades of red in the sky reminded him of the dawn he had spent with Elizabeth.

Time passed and houses appeared in sight, while the chilly evening breeze brushed over his face. Soon enough, he spotted the row of cottages that included Mrs Crawford’s—the one that held his interest. He passed by it but did not stop. There were too many people there—some of them complete strangers that he did not wish to see.

He rode his horse onward, at a slower and steadier pace now. Then the Fitzroys’ house appeared and Darcy finally dismounted. He heard the sound of the pianoforte—Julia was playing.

He dismounted from his horse, took the reins, and led the stallion towards the cottage. He had barely reached the door when Bingley appeared, red-faced, with his hair and clothes in great disorder, followed by Stevens and Mrs Clarke.

“Darcy, where on Earth have you been? We have been so worried about you! What happened? Are you hurt? Where did you go?”

He handed Stevens the reins, then replied in what he hoped was a composed voice.

“Please forgive me for worrying you. I went for a ride and I believe I fell asleep under a tree. How silly of me.”

Bingley was dumfounded, while Mrs Clarke gave a sigh of relief.

“But Darcy—”

“Bingley, I apologise again. Please let us have a drink and tell me what have you done today? Do you have any news to share?”

“News? Yes, yes, of course. But I must send word to Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth—they were all very worried about you! We waited and waited and you did not appear and I came to enquire after you but nobody knew where you were. They were all so very worried too!”

“It is too late for visiting, but I will ask Stevens to convey them my apologies right away and tomorrow I will call on them myself,” Darcy answered remorsefully.

“Yes, that will do. Send Stevens, and tomorrow we will call together. Mrs Clarke is waiting for you with dinner. Have you eaten? Where have you been?”

“Bingley, please do not worry about me any longer. Let us enjoy some food and drink—I really need it. And then tell me all about your day.”

“My day? Well, there is not much to be said! I am engaged! Can you believe it? I proposed to Miss Bennet and she accepted! And we already talked to Mrs Gardiner and she wrote to Mr Bennet. And Miss Elizabeth looked overjoyed. Everything happened so fast, and so easily! I cannot believe my good luck! I was so miserable only a month ago and now I am the happiest of men! Can you believe it?”

Bingley’s enthusiasm and utter bliss touched Darcy and revived some of his old guilt. How little was needed for such an excellent man to lose his chance of happiness and how quickly shared love found its way to completion if it was nurtured and encouraged!

He allowed Bingley to brag about his bliss and good luck during dinner and over several glasses of wine, then brandy, until excitement, tiredness and the alcohol defeated the young betrothed and sent him to bed.

Darcy withdrew to his chamber too, and even changed his clothes, but, as much as he tried, sleep evaded him. He was alert, then became restless again, until he could stand it no longer. It was very warm in the room, despite the windows being wide open. He walked to the window and looked out at the sea, then returned to his bed for a while, then walked to the window again and this time stood there, stunned.

Under the bright sky, at the edge of the sea, in full moonlight, was the chimaera that he had imagined a week ago, on the night of his long swim.

He continued to stare, assuming it was the result of too many drinks, but the image did not disappear. It finally turned and seemed to move away from the water, then stood still and glanced back to the sea again. It was too far away to see much except for her long hair falling loose on her shoulders, yet his anxiety became burdensome.

Without much consideration, he left the house almost at a run, hoping to catch a glimpse of the apparition.

And he did, as she appeared in full sight, walking barefoot on the sand and carrying her shoes. She let out a small cry when she noticed him, then she paused, while he stepped forward.

“Miss Bennet…”

“Mr Darcy…”

Chapter 13

“I cannot believe it is you.” he said.

“Mr Darcy, are you well, sir? Mrs Clarke said you looked very troubled and you left in a hurry. And as time passed, we feared you might have been hurt.”