Page 96 of Bitterness of Spirit & The Painting

Even worse, to her mortification, she found herself dreaming of Darcy in ways that never happened before. She vividly recollected her sensations when their hands touched, when he whispered in her ear and his lips touched her skin, when he held her hands, and when they were close, their bodies touching in the secret room.

She remembered his scent, the line of his jaw, the locks of hair on his forehead, the twist of his lips, and the depth of his gaze when he stared at her.

She found herself overwhelmed by sensations she never experienced before, her rest disturbed by heat and chills that warred inside her. Her appetite for food and joy was lost, her spirit defeated by longing. Slowly, all the doubts about the nature of her feelings vanished. Her mind cleared, and her heart opened. She missed him dearly; she not only admired and respected him, she wanted to see him again, to speak to him again. She wanted him.

He was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her—the man she had dreamed about her entire youth. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would answer all her wishes. By her ease and liveliness, his mind would soften, his manners improve; and from his judgment, information, and knowledge of the world, she would benefit. She needed him to be happy, and she hoped and prayed that he needed her as well and that nothing diminished his ardent love for her. But she could not know with certainty since he preferred to stay away from her.

He would come for the wedding—and then she would know.

∞∞∞

The day of Jane Bennet’s wedding to Mr Bingley arrived in early May on a day as lovely as the bride.

The entire Meryton community gathered at the church and universally acknowledged that the happy couple made a perfect match. There was not a man more handsome or more amiable than Mr Bingley, nor was there a more beautiful woman with a sweeter disposition than Jane Bennet. Their mutual affection was so apparent that it brought a smile to every face.

Elizabeth awaited the wedding day almost as nervously as Jane. She knew she would finally meet Darcy once more, a fortnight since the maddening day that had changed their lives. His pained voice, his furious words, his spite towards his relatives and Wilson, and his reproaches for their betrayal resounded vividly in her mind.

His withdrawal from their company during her final days in London was proof that he opposed any interaction with her family. At times, she wondered whether he thought she was somehow to blame for Mr Wilson’s plan. She dismissed the notion several times, but it continually returned to trouble her.

She could not bear to know that he lived somewhere in the world and thought ill of her, even if he was wrong.

She had expected him to arrive in the evening before the wedding, but he did not, and she feared he had changed his mind. Instead, she saw him arrive at the church with Bingley, and the weight on her chest lightened a bit. He greeted her warmly, held her hand for a brief moment, inquired after her health, and conveyed the best regards of the colonel and Anne.

Then Darcy was quickly surrounded by others—Sir William, Lady Lucas, Mrs Philips, her father and mother—all of whom were pleasantly surprised to see him. Once Wickham’s true character had been discovered, Mr Darcy’s faults had diminished accordingly. Further, Sir William and then Mr Bennet expressed their appreciation to Mr Darcy so eloquently that there could be nothing left except general admiration.

With everyone, Mr Bennet shared Mr Darcy’s positive influence on Bingley’s re-acquaintance with Jane, and Mrs Bennet lost not a single moment in showing him due deference.

To all, he responded with such warm amiability that he astonished the crowd. He congratulated Mrs Bennet for her daughter’s wedding, greeted Sir William with familiarity, and expressed his pleasure at being in Meryton again. In half an hour, he spoke more than in all the time he had spent in Hertfordshire last autumn, raising great praise for his behaviour and handsome features that were heightened by his charming smile.

Mr and Mrs Gardiner approached Darcy, and they spoke for a while. Mr Wilson only saluted him briefly but kept a respectable distance.

Except for some shared glances, Elizabeth had few opportunities to speak to him.

In the church, while standing by Bingley’s side, Darcy looked at her several times. She thought she noticed a trace of a timid smile—more in his eyes than on his lips—but she could not be certain.

Her heart secretly told her that his altered manners were a sign of his consideration for her, that he wanted to show her how much he had changed since he was last there. But her mind forbade her assuming too much.

She patiently waited for the ceremony to be over, hoping they would be able to speak more during the wedding breakfast, perhaps even take a stroll in the garden.

She moved a few steps away, allowing some distance between herself and the rest of the party, watching him in the midst of so many people. He was still uncomfortable and clearly not at ease, but he tried to bear the commotion bravely. She smiled, and he responded with a slight twist of his lips.

He spoke to Bingley and Jane, then to her parents and the Gardiners.

Suddenly, with painful despair, she saw his carriage arrive and Bingley embrace him cordially. He was leaving; she had no doubt of that!

Her heart ached, and breathing became difficult. He obviously did not want to stay in her presence any longer. Eventually, when she could barely contain her tears, he stepped towards her decidedly.

“Mr Darcy.”

“Miss Bennet, I hope I am not bothering you. I came to say goodbye.”

“Are you leaving already? Even before the wedding breakfast?”

“Yes. I am afraid I must. I came only to keep my promise to Bingley. I am glad to see him and his new wife so happy. I do not believe my presence is needed any longer.”

“Perhaps not—if that is the only reason you came,” she said and then blushed at the impropriety of her words.

He stared at her, but she averted her eyes.