Appalling.
Elizabeth Bennet's behavior was completely and utterly appalling.
He'd never been spoken to thus, and he was quite at a loss for what to do. He must quit Rosings, he knew, which meant his aunt would be extremely vexed. But there was no choice now. He could not stay under the same roof with Miss Bennet now after her rejection.
He found his cousin with Miss Lucas in the backyard, smelling flowers or some other nonsense with the Lucas sisters.
Colonel Fitzwilliam grinned when he saw Darcy approaching. "Cousin, do look! A bluestreak butterfly! Very rare in these parts." The colonel pointed to an insect that fluttered nearby. Darcy saw what looked like a large blue-winged moth.
This agitated Darcy further. "Fitz, I must leave today. Can you be ready?"
The Colonel's smile faded a bit. "Yes, of course. Do clap eyes on it though. You may never see one again in your life."
Miss Lucas, who sat with her sister on the blanketed ground with two puppies. "Is that so? How fascinating."
"What's next, frolicking under rainbows with woodland creatures? Weaving flower crowns for Unicorns? Richard, please! Am I the only one here with any sense, who thinks of any practicality?"
Darcy turned and started to storm away the happy scene just as his aunt came out, followed by a stony-faced Mr. Collins. This was too much. Now he really had to leave.
"Darcy, where are you going?" Lady Catherine called to him as he strode past without stopping. "Why such a hurry?"
The Colonel took his aunt's arm and helped her into a seat in the shade. "I'm afraid that is a riddle for the sphinx," he said pleasantly.
Lady Catherine turned her attention to the Lucas girls. "Lucas Sisters! Do come under the shade! You will freckle yourself horribly. Darcy, do slow down. What is all this rush? I do not like it!"
For what may have been the first time in his life, Darcy ignored his aunt as he entered the house and took the stairs two at a time to his bedchamber.
Mr. Darcy was gone. And he'd taken Colonel Fitzwilliam with him, Mr. Collins informed Elizabeth and Charlotte after he strode across the field from the parsonage, interrupting their private afternoon walk.
"Mr. Darcy was quite vexed after this morning," Mr. Collins said and wrung his hands. "Lady Catherine said that you and he had a disagreement, Miss Bennet. She would like you to explain your conversation with her nephew."
Elizabeth's cousin looked disapprovingly at her. She raised her chin in the cool spring air before she answered. "If we did, I cannot think how it is any business of yours, Mr. Collins, or Lady Catherine's."
Mr. Collin's gasped. "Lady Catherine has hosted you these last weeks. And this is how you repay her? I dare say she is out of sorts and is not feeling as hospitable as she had been previously. I think it best, perhaps if her guests readied themselves to leave Rosings sooner rather than later."
Charlotte's hand squeezed Elizabeth's as she frowned. Although Elizabeth hadn't yet given her the details, she knew Elizabeth had been hurt by her conversation with Mr. Darcy. She had seen Elizabeth's face after Darcy stormed out, and she knew he had deeply offended her.
"Mr. Collins, if you would escort me back to Rosings, I will oversee the packing so that we may leave shortly. I believe Miss Bennet may need some more air."
"Very well," said Mr. Collins, who smiled at her falsely. Charlotte patted Elizabeth's arm before taking the black-clad one Mr. Collin's held out. Elizabeth exhaled as they left her to finish her walk alone. She was eager to return to London to see Jane, and back to Longbourn to check her father's health, where she hoped she never heard Mr. Darcy's name again.
Letter
When Elizabeth returned to Rosings, a letter was delivered to her by one of the footmen. She gasped as she saw Mr. Darcy's seal on it, stuck it in her pocket and waited until she was alone to read it. What could he possibly have to say to her? She excused herself to a private sitting room, sat down and read the missive. Then immediately reread it again.
Finally, she read it a third time.
Darcy wrote about many things-indeed, his writing took up both the front and back of the paper. He began by defending his actions toward Bingley. Elizabeth had to admit, he made several valid points. Her mother and sisters had behaved beyond the pale several times the evening of the ball. She cringed reading it because it was true.
Her anger towards him began to change into something cooler, more rational. Darcy notably exempted herself and Jane from her family's impropriety, which somehow pleased her. He claimed he did not see evidence of Jane's affection for Bingley, but only that members of her family spoke of Bingley's fortune. She remembered how Charlotte, too, said Jane did not show her affection for Bingley. Perhaps Elizabeth had been wrong about many things.
Then he explained his connection to Mr. Wickham, and Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face as she read. According to Darcy, Wickham was a lifelong scoundrel, an inveterate do-nothing who gambled away any money he'd acquired and left unpaid debts behind him wherever he went, which Darcy had paid many times. And, worst of all, he'd preyed upon Darcy's younger sister to get access to her fortune. Elizabeth shivered with revulsion.
Later that day, lines from the letter from Mr. Darcy came to her again and again as she, Charlotte, her father and sister all rode in one crowded carriage back to London.
...total lack of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly, betrayed by your mother, by your three younger sisters, and occasionally even by your father.
That line stung, she had to admit. Most especially because it was true. Her family, each in their own way, had behaved in public with little regard in their actions. She grieved for all that Jane lost.
But it was Darcy's account of Mr. Wickham's behavior was most shocking. She now went over her past interactions with him, and had no choice but to see it was true. She had thought Darcy the villain, but now she saw how blind she had been and how easily Wickham had concealed his own true motivations.
Elizabeth felt a deep, dreadful shame both for her family and for her own prejudices. She had been determined to see Darcy in the most villainous light despite other evidence, and she now felt how deeply wrong she had been. She recalled how the Colonel alluded to an incident with Darcy's younger sister. He could only mean Wickham's pursuit of her. Although Darcy said he considered her exempt for the behavior, she knew she had been as guilty as the rest of her family. She had acted as headstrong and stubborn as any of them.
Fighting the urge to reread the letter again in the small, crowded cab, Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned against the headrest, slipping into fitful sleep.
Elizabeth opened her eyes, as the carriage rode over a bump in the road. In the distance, she could see Longbourn serene in the morning mist. Elizabeth caught her breath. Finally home. Elizabeth squeezed Jane's hand in anticipation.
"Jane, we are almost there," Elizabeth said, and Jane's eyes fluttered open. "Oh, a welcome sight after so long."
Elizabeth set up straighter. She wondered about her father's health. Was he still alive? Had he improved? Or worsened? The last letter she received had been a fortnight ago. Elizabeth bit her lip with worry as the carriage crunched to a stop on the gravel drive.
Her sisters rushed outside to greet them, Lydia, then Kitty and Mary, followed by her mother and two maids.
Elizabeth, engulfed in happy embraces of each one, found herself sniffling upon her return.
"How is Papa?" she asked Lydia, who she knew would be most honest. Lydia smiled cheekily. "You must come and see for yourself." Elizabeth exhaled. That meant he couldn't be worse off, could he?
After several moments of happy greetings, the removal of their traveling cloaks, and brushing the dust from their dresses, Elizabeth was eager to look on father with her own eyes.
The maid prepared a pot of tea, but Elizabeth was in too much of a hurry to wait. "I will see him myself. Jane, shall we?" The sisters took hands and made their way to the back of the house where their father rested.
Tears fell down her face before she'd even reached the door.
Lydia, Kitty, and Mary followed close behind them, whispering.
Mr. Bennet looked smaller than she'd remembered and paler too. His hair and beard were now completely white.
"Papa?"
She sat gently next to the bed, knowing he'd likely not answer. She was pleased when his eyes blinked and opened, fixing on her. TThen, his voice rasped and he spoke thickly. "L-LIzzy? Is it you?"
Now tears streamed down her face. "Papa! You can speak?" Elizabeth gasped, her hands covering her mouth.
Kitty nodded, grinning broadly. "He's hard to understand, but Papa talks now."
Lydia broke into great giggles. "Lord, look at Lizzy's face! The physician comes almost every day now. He began speaking about a month ago."
Elizabeth was truly shocked. "Why didn't you write and tell us so?"
"We thought it would be a capital surprise," Lydia laughed heartily. "Look at their faces!"
Elizabeth turned to her father. "Papa, how are you feeling? Are you comfortable?"
He nodded stiffly, and half his face smiled. "I'll be better when you read to me."
"I will start shortly," Elizabeth said and they all laughed.
"Lizzy," he said after a pause. "Not m-married to Mr. Collins?"
Elizabeth shook her head, tears falling down her cheek. "No, I am not. Not even engaged. I hope you don't mind. Jane and I are both old maids."
Mr. Bennet's face half smiled again. "Good. I'm glad." Elizabeth moved so Jane could speak to her father, but she held tight to his hand.
"You mean to tell me you spent a full three months in London and did not observe any lady's fashions at all? Not a single sleeve or fabric? Lord, did you walk around blind?" Lydia exclaimed not even one hour after Elizabeth and Jane had wearily left the coach. "I shall never keep up with Mary King!"
"I am sorry, Lydia, but I was not paying attention," Elizabeth said, smiling to Jane as they helped the housekeeper unpack their belongings.
"What else was there to pay attention to? It's not like you had beaux to fight off."
"There was Mr. Collins," said Kitty. This comment sent her and Lydia into a spasm of giggles.
Lydia turned to Jane. "I am completely out of sorts with both of you. Maria Lucas too! What good is a bevy of sisters if they cannot be trusted to obtain pertinent information? I may as well have a houseful of brothers. At least they may be good entertainment."
Jane smiled at her proclaiming. "Well, there is one thing you may find useful."
She reached into a bag and produced the latest copy of La Belle Assemble. "Straight from a bookseller in London."
Lydia shrieked with joy and Kitty soon joined in, both dancing around Jane. "Jane, you are the most wonderful sister in the world!"
"It was Lizzy's pin money that bought it; you should thank her."
"Thank you, Lizzy!"
Elizabeth passed some sheet music to Mary. "You are not forgotten either, dear."
Mary smiled broadly. "Thank you."
Elizabeth sighed and sat back, grasping Jane's hand. "We are home, finally," she said happily.