Page 164 of Bitterness of Spirit & The Painting

Darcy emptied his glass too, to remove the lump in his throat.

“So you never saw her again?”

“Never. I felt almost grateful that God took away the last of my sight, so I could see only the memories drawn in my mind and in my soul. It was enough for me.”

Darcy put his hand over the man’s.

“She was happy. I truly believe she was. She was surrounded by love and admiration. My father loved her very much.”

“Was she in pain when she…?”

“No. She was only very weak and sad to be leaving us.”

“God is good,” Fitzroy repeated.

“And, sir—you must know; that painting had been in her room for as long as I can remember, till the end.”

“Thank you for telling me that. I have never dared imagine I would one day speak to one of her children. And yet, here you are, listening to my ramblings and easing my soul.”

“You have eased my soul too, sir. Do not doubt that.”

They shook hands one last time and Darcy left in a hurry. The door closed behind him, like a barrier that separated the past from the future.

While he—a grown man in his late twenties—struggled with his tears, he could feel the burden of such a devastating story pressing on his shoulders, with all the sadness, grief and suffering that had lasted a lifetime.

But he was glad to carry the weight, knowing his quest had ended. And he felt truly blessed too.

∞∞∞

True to his promise to Bingley—and especially to Elizabeth—Darcy went to the Crawford cottage. The party was on the beach, near the bathing machine. Darcy greeted them and immediately congratulated the eldest Miss Bennet.

“Forgive me for being late,” he addressed Mrs Gardiner, although his words were mostly meant for Elizabeth. “I visited Mrs Norwood and was introduced to her uncle, Sir Samuel Fitzroy.”

“Oh, Julia has an uncle?” Mrs Gardiner asked. Stealing a glance at Elizabeth, he noticed she was curious too.

“Yes. The gentleman is rarely out and about, I understand. He was wounded in the war thirty years ago and has lost his sight. A true hero, I would say.”

“It seems you were impressed with this new acquaintance,” Elizabeth interjected and he finally turned to her.

“I was, Miss Elizabeth. He is everything a gentleman should be and even more. I found out he had been acquainted with my mother too and we shared some pleasant, although sad memories. It is lovely weather today, is it not?” he suddenly changed the subject.

“Yes, but the water is surprisingly cold. What would you say to a stroll, for some exercise? I suggested it earlier, but we decided to wait for you,” Bingley said enthusiastically.

“A little exercise would be most welcome,” Darcy admitted, equally delighted but less exuberant than his friend.

As Mary declined and Mrs Gardiner remained to supervise the children, the eldest Miss Bennets and the two gentlemen walked together, along the edge of the water, under the watchful gaze of their aunt.

Slowly, Bingley and Jane outstripped them, while Elizabeth and Darcy remained a little behind.

“How are you feeling?” Elizabeth whispered.

“Relieved. You were right; Julia was blameless. She was complete unaware of… Apparently, only his sister knew there was a correspondence, which was carried out in her name.”

“Did he agree to speak to you?”

“In fact, he requested to meet me again. I spoke to Julia and from the little she told me, I understood my guess was correct. And I had realised I needed no other proof—as you said. But he wished to speak to me. He encouraged me to ask him any questions I had.”

“Very generous and honourable of him.”