Elizabeth walked away brushing at her eyes.
What Darcy asked was a sin. Good women did not do such things. If she had gone with him she would have lost Jane and her friends.
Charlotte might advise her to be pragmatic and turn back and tell Darcy she'd changed her mind.
Had she just made a terrible mistake?
Tears covered her cheeks. They were salty on her lips. The cold wind whined through the trees, shaking the bare branches and biting into her coat.
Poor Fitzwilliam, if…if she found the right words he would lose his fear of falling in love. If she had agreed to go with him as his mistress, she could have eventually convinced him to love her and marry her.
Elizabeth almost stumbled over her feet. She nearly turned around.
She was stupid.
Horrid sobs choked their way out of her chest. Elizabeth collapsed against the trunk of a mighty oak tree and curled her arms around her knees.
She had fancied herself in love. Her dear friendship was gone. Hope was gone. He was right; she never would marry, because she loved him.
How could he beg her to be his mistress? How, even if she did flirt with him too much, how did he think she would agree… She was a respectable girl. A good girl. Jane's sister.
He loved her; he just had not realized it yet. He would come back and beg her to forgive him for what he asked and to marry him. And she would smile, and say it had just been that he was educated poorly, and she loved him so, and of course she would marry him.
Their kisses. Memories she would have forever. Moments of perfect happiness. He wanted her to be happy, but she could not be happy that way.
Elizabeth's thin handkerchief was soaked and freezing. She shivered in the cold wind.
I do not love you.
It hurt to hear him saying it again and again in her mind. But she loved him for it too. He was blunt, and unwilling to engage in pretense or deception. If only he hadn't said that… Damn him for it. She would have gone with him in that moment when her heart was so full. I want you in my bed because it is you.
It was freezing. Elizabeth's teeth chattered and she knew she must stand and return home to get warm. She must. She could not let anyone — anyone except Jane — see her this way. She could not stop weeping.
Things should have been better. Elizabeth pictured him as he looked after she pushed herself away. She imagined him saying, I care nothing about Lydia, I care nothing about money, marry me. I love you. I swore I never would love anyone, but I love you.
They were kissing again, and the hand on her hip reached back and squeezed her bottom…while the other hand reached for her bosom. His look was so tender; the way it had been when he spoke of the light in her soul.
Elizabeth stood. Her eyes ached from the tears, and her stomach felt empty.
She jumped up and down and clapped her hands together and briskly walked back and forth before jogging in place. She was freezing, her hands still felt numb from the cold, her nose was running, and the handkerchief was half frozen. She should not have sat still in this weather for so long.
After several minutes Elizabeth paused and panted, taking in deep breaths of cold air that burned at her lungs.
She forced herself to laugh. It was permissible to fantasize about such a great rich gentleman — but absurd for her to forget they were just fantasies.
No. It wasn't a fantasy. He would come back.
Elizabeth laughed at the thought. She was being a goose. But in her gut it felt like a certainty. Someday he would realize. She no longer felt like crying. Maybe he would ride to her house and wait for her.
Not likely, it would take much longer, perhaps several weeks of missing their conversations before he understood.
Even if it was a silly thought, Elizabeth decided not to suppress it.
She walked along the bare hedges, past trees with their leaves fallen, past houses with crawling vines covering the walls, and past fields stripped bare.
At last she reached Meryton. There was a well near the edge of town, and she drew the cold water out, and splashed her face.
The edges of the brown and white timber-framed buildings seemed sharper in the clear cold air. All the signs were familiar and the town was bedecked in festive Christmas decorations. People called, and she waved back. A few carts and carriages were pulled through the streets of the market town, and with an easy step Elizabeth walked along the side of the road until she reached the house and offices of her uncle near the middle of town.
Jane was in the drawing room, and her dear sister could tell there was something amiss with Elizabeth when they embraced. Charlotte and Mary were visiting, and they were there along with Mrs. Phillips and Mama, and it was impossible for Elizabeth to tell Jane her story — and she was not even sure she wished to.
But Elizabeth managed to smile.
DODODODO
Lady Lucas said, "It was such a surprise — Mr. Darcy leaving so suddenly with no leave or notice. He seemed so steady. It must be something serious."
Jane and Elizabeth had called at Lucas Lodge, and Jane carefully watched how her sister stiffened when Lady Lucas returned to the main subject of gossip for the past two days.
The day before Darcy left, Lizzy returned home and desperately hugged her and spent the evening talking with a feverish quickness. Then, when Elizabeth thought Jane was asleep, she started to cry.
Elizabeth hadn't wanted to tell her about it yet, so Jane embraced Elizabeth without saying anything and squeezed her until they fell asleep. Yet, Lizzy had not seemed nearly so broken as Jane had expected. She was sad, but there was still some of that light in her eyes.
Jane was glad for that. She had been so worried for Elizabeth.
Jane knew Lizzy must have done something foolish, like confessing her love to Mr. Darcy. Why couldn't some gentleman who might have married Lizzy visited Netherfield and made her sister fall in love with him? Not the haughty, careless nephew of an earl.
Darcy should have realized what he was doing to Lizzy, and she hadn't thought he was the sort of man who would make a girl fall in love with him, and then callously abandon her. Bingley had told her he wasn't. But he was.
Jane's attention was pulled back to the room they sat in. Lady Lucas asked, "Eliza, have you any notion? You and Mr. Darcy had become good friends."
Elizabeth shook her head. "No. He said nothing to me about plans to leave."
More callers arrived at Lucas Lodge. It was Mr. Bingley and Miss Bingley. Bingley was taken aback to see her in the room, and instead of his usual friendly greeting, he stiffly inclined his head at her. Had whatever happened between Elizabeth and Darcy led Bingley to wish to avoid her?
Couldn't the dream have lasted a few more weeks?
Lady Lucas asked, "Mr. Bingley, can you explain exactly what business called your friend away so quickly? He'd promised to dance with my Maria at your ball."
Bingley pulled at his sleeves. It was a characteristic habit of his when he was uncomfortable. Jane had catalogued many such habits in the time she had known him.
After the briefest glance at Elizabeth, he said, "It was a personal matter. But Mr. Darcy loves his estate and had been eager to return to it. It has superb hunting, excellent fields, plenty of birds, and crisp cold weather. I'm not surprised Darcy took the first excuse he could find to leave."
"But it was on such short notice."
"Yes. Mr. Darcy has the resources to do as he pleases, and he is much in the habit of acting quickly once a decision is made."
Jane saw Elizabeth listened intently.
After several minutes more Jane and Elizabeth stood to end their call. Bingley stood with them. "Might I walk you back to Meryton? There is a matter to speak about."
Jane wasn't sure if she felt anxiety or hope. When she nodded at Bingley, he turned to his sister and said, "Caroline, go ahead and call at the Longs and Smiths without me, I'll meet you in Meryton at Mr. Phillips's house."
"But—"
"Not this time."
They walked out into the cold air. Bingley said nothing, but he frowned as he watched his carriage ride away. He did take Jane's arm.
When Bingley said he wanted to speak with her, a tiny hope had flickered to life. Maybe he wanted to ask her to marry. It was an absurd romantic idea which was now entirely gone. His expression was that of a man performing a painful, but necessary duty.
They walked along the path through Sir William's fields. Elizabeth was on Jane's other side. She frowned and clenched her jaw angrily. Jane prepared herself to smile and not appear hurt, no matter what Bingley said. She looked towards him, and his somber eyes studied her closely.
"Miss Bennet, I…I have striven to always act as a gentleman ought in your presence."
"You need not to say anything. You have always been the most amiable and perfect gentleman."
"I fear I might have failed… Mr. Darcy, before he left, he…he told me that it was possible… Miss Bennet, you know that we can never be anything more than friends. We both have forgotten that a little. I see it in your eyes that Darcy was right. Forgive me."
Elizabeth exclaimed, "What did he say?"
"He simply pointed out the danger."
"The danger of marrying a wonderful woman who would make you happy."
Jane exclaimed, "Lizzy. Don't."
"You should marry Jane. You know you could come to love her. I see how much you like her; you know how kind and generous she is. You could be happy. You are following Darcy's obsession with…with… He should not have said anything. It is your happiness."
"He is a good friend. He wished to help."
"I know all about the help Mr. Darcy offers. He is a fool. Someday he will realize it."
Mr. Bingley was silent. He looked saddened instead of annoyed.
Elizabeth spoke in a rushed voice, "Do not let your friends dictate how you act. It is your future and happiness. You should trust your heart."
Bingley looked at Jane, and then turned to Elizabeth. Any hope Jane might have ever had was crushed by the sad way Bingley looked at Elizabeth and shook his head.
"Oh, all rich gentlemen are fools. Fools. I despise all your kind. At least you are not near so stupid as your friend."
Elizabeth walked away at a fast pace to create some distance from both of them.
Anxiety for Elizabeth joined the crushed feeling in Jane's chest. She couldn't show Bingley how much she wanted to cry. She glanced at his face and said softly, "Forgive my sister. You know she is not—"
"I know something happened between her and Darcy. I do not blame her at all. If you wished to yell at me as well…"
Jane shook her head and tears prickled in her eyes. She liked him so much. Bingley looked so torn to see her like this.
Jane spoke in a quick teary voice. "We both like each other very much, but I have always known it could never be anything more. Elizabeth lets her imagination run away with her. She is happy to live with how she wishes the world was. But I knew. I beg you to not feel guilty at all. You have done nothing amiss. But you are right, we should talk less. I do like you too much."
"Forgive me. I should never have asked to dance with you."
"No. Don't feel that way. Don't. I am glad you have known me. A foolish part of me wishes we could share more than merely friendship, but I would not give any of our conversations up to avoid that small hurt. Don't be unhappy for anything. Please."
Bingley looked into her eyes and some tension in his face relaxed. "I wish…I so wish things were different. But I am glad we have been friends as well. Even though we cannot let ourselves be close friends, we are friends."
"Yes."
The two had reached Meryton, and Elizabeth stood by the entrance to Mr. Phillips's house watching them. They needed to part, but both hesitated.
Bingley stuck his hand out. Jane shook it.
That night Jane stared blankly at the nearly invisible sloped ceiling above the bed. She was piled under a heavy set of blankets and quilts, so even though the room was dark and freezing, only her feet felt cold. The only light was the little bit from the moon that snuck around through the small window.
She'd been living in a romantic fantasy like Elizabeth always did for the last weeks.
She had been stupid, stupid, stupid.
At least she had been sweet and calm. Bingley couldn't possibly know how much she hurt. It would make him unhappy. It was Lydia who deserved to be unhappy, not Mr. Bingley.
She knew. She always knew it would end this way.
Elizabeth had kept pushing. Maybe, maybe. You are so sweet and beautiful, Jane, nobody who knows you could resist you. Do you like him enough?
It wasn't Lizzy's fault. She had loved every minute with Bingley. But it hurt so much in her chest now. She had not expected it to hurt so much.
Jane hated it. She hated the way her heart fluttered when she simply saw the smooth curve of his chin. She hated that she could stare entranced at his mannerisms and the way he held his hands as he talked. She hated how her stomach had bubbled when he smiled at her.
When she spoke with Bingley that bitterness she had begun to feel over the years of cutting remarks and deprivation disappeared. She felt happy, warm and girlish. He made her feel safe and right again.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Elizabeth entered the room, quickly opening and shutting the door. She had stayed down in the drawing room finishing a novel in the guttering light of a single tallow candle. Jane was used to that. Sometimes Elizabeth became so deeply involved in a book that she stayed awake hours past her usual sleep time.
Elizabeth softly whispered, "Jane, are you awake yet?"
Jane did not respond. She had never been good at telling anyone, not even Elizabeth, when she was unhappy. And now, she had a little anger towards Elizabeth. If she had not said whatever she said to Darcy, the dream would have continued longer. It could not have hurt worse when it ended.
They would never have good, happy marriages. Neither of them.
If she talked to Elizabeth now, her sister might make her hope again. Elizabeth would say that if she flung herself at Bingley hard enough, she might stick.
Elizabeth pulled off the heavy coat she wore due to the nighttime cold, and then unbuttoned her dress by feel. While they still had a few of the difficult evening gowns that required help to take on and off, Jane and Elizabeth had learned to prefer simpler clothing. Elizabeth always had preferred it.
When Elizabeth pulled off her gown and corset, she volubly shivered at the cold and quickly shoved her nightgown over her head and jumped into bed, snuggling against Jane for warmth.
Jane's mind simply would not leave Bingley alone. Again and again she relived that horrid moment when she had to convince Bingley not to feel guilty. He was so relieved when she begged him not to be unhappy.
She was never going to sleep. "Did you enjoy your book?"
"I could not read. I blew out the candle and sat thinking. Everything is so wrong…"
"Lizzy, don't tell me to try more…" Jane's voice was pleading.
She must have communicated her feeling, because Elizabeth murmured kind sounds and rolled over to squeeze Jane. "This is my fault. At least that it happened now. You must be angry at me."
Jane silently and softly cried.
Elizabeth held her and rubbed her back.
Jane said, "Don't think ill of Mr. Bingley. He was being kind. He knew I liked him too much. He wished to make it clear he had no intentions towards me in the least painful manner he could."
Jane expected Elizabeth to insult Mr. Bingley and then claim that if she just kept trying eventually he would fall in love with her.
Instead Elizabeth rolled onto her back. The bed creaked. She sighed. "You are right. He wanted to be kind. They are fools, but he'll never forget Lydia. Maybe, no one will. I should have known — I should not have pushed you — I just want you to be happy, and now you hurt more."
Lizzy always thought things would work out; she made fast judgments and didn't pay attention. And when it was all over she would smile and say, At least we are all alive. That is what is important.
"I wanted to be pushed. Do not blame yourself."
Elizabeth said viciously, "At least Bingley is better than Mr. Darcy. At least he didn't—"
Jane took her sister's hand and squeezed it. "What happened?"
Elizabeth stiffened, and Jane felt anxiety for her sister in her stomach. Elizabeth held herself tight in bed.
What could have been said to make Elizabeth react this way? "Please tell me."
"I don't want to tell anyone. I was…I was not good like you, and I nearly…" Elizabeth lay silent. At last she whispered into Jane's ear, "He asked me to be his mistress."
Jane sat up sharply in bed. "He did what!"
Elizabeth snaked her hand out of the covers to place it over Jane's mouth. "Shhh—"
They both slumped down. Elizabeth added, "He did. It does not surprise me you could hardly credit that an acquaintance of ours would act so. But there was no misunderstanding. And I…I nearly said yes. It was only thinking of you and when he said… Oh he is such an idiot. If he was not, I would have gone off and become someone you would need to despise."
Mr. Darcy had asked Elizabeth to be his mistress. He had not been playing with her sister; instead he had offered the only thing any gentleman could offer them. And Elizabeth refused him. Because she didn't want to be someone Jane would despise.
"Lizzy, you love him."
"I do. But he…he wouldn't… If he loved me in turn he would have married me. I couldn't go with him, not for love, not for money. Not when it would separate me from you. He wanted me to lie to my friends and claim I was a governess or something, but it would not have worked. I had to choose between living in sin with him and all who are dear to me."
Jane said furiously, "I would love you still, no matter what you did."
"I know. But you are my perfect Jane, I couldn't do that. Not when you are so good. You would have loved me still, but I couldn't betray my sister."
Lord! Lizzy should have gone with Mr. Darcy. She could have been happy and free from this place. Everyone already despised them. So that did not matter at all. Jane realized that if Bingley had asked her to become his mistress, she would have gone with him without a moment of thought.
"You do not…you do not think less of me because I was tempted?"
"No."
Lizzy squeezed her hand and hugged Jane. "I think he does love me. He just doesn't know it yet. Sometimes I am so angry at him, and I can't stop crying. But other times, I believe he'll return someday to marry me."
So her sister was not as miserable as Jane had expected because she was deluded. Jane felt tears come to her eyes. She knew it would never happen. "Lizzy, is that why you did not go with him?"
"No! I told you I could not let myself become someone completely different from you. I only wondered afterwards. When I was crying."
Why did Lizzy always, always, always assume Jane was the perfect girl? Elizabeth was certain she would never imagine doing anything that she was told was wrong. She would never think ill of anybody, she would never, ever do anything.
Jane hated it.
Elizabeth said quietly, "Jane, you don't need to tell me it is a foolish hope and won't happen. My reason says you are right. I know that."
Somehow that made Jane start sobbing, and Elizabeth grabbed and held her, and they cried together. Maybe Jane had her own little hope that Bingley would change his mind. But doing the right thing, being proper, it never brought any happiness.