Chapter 4
Mr. Darcy reads the letter
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Darcy was not surprised that Miss Bennet knew; he already surmised that on the street. After all, Miss Elizabeth was close to her elder sister. It was naturally embarrassing, but strangely, it did not bother him. One less person he had to pretend to that everything was all right.
He was, in general, a very private person; he, certainly, had not talked about his disastrous proposal to anyone except to the four walls of his study. How does one even address such a thing? And with whom? Well, he did not have to tell anything to Mrs. Carter, his housekeeper. She at least suspected what was wrong with him. While she was scolding him for not eating or bathing, she brought him hot chocolate and his favourite cake. She just said, 'It'll become better,' and petted his face.
On the other hand, Richard would mock him, and Georgiana was too young. His few friends? Maybe. But no, what would be the point? He would never hear the end of it. Besides, men did not talk about uncomfortable things – and this was definitely uncomfortable. His pride was crushed.
This lady, however, kind-hearted that she was – he did not mind. She would not judge him. Yes, he thought, it was alright that she knew. What is more, he did not have to explain; it was already done.
He read further. Oh, good lord! What?! Darcy thought back to the incident at the dance in Meryton. He really did not want to be there. However, he did make an appearance out of respect for Bingley. It was his first social event in his new neighbourhood. He wanted to support his friend. Truth be told, another inducement was playing at hand – had he stayed behind at Netherfield, Miss Bingley would have as well. That was not going to happen under any circumstances. It was embarrassing enough that they were late because of her. She had feathers in her hair as if going to the opera in London, not that feathers were required there. Did she not know what people wore at village assemblies? Yes, he thought back, he was miserable at the assembly, but then he mostly was at any kind of ball.
So, she heard him. He never thought a remark like that could affect her this much.
He did not know what to think. Was he rejected because of his stupid insult? The irony of it. And yet, did she not throw it at me that she despised me from the very beginning, since the first time we met? He did not understand what she meant then; well, he understood it now. He lowered the letter in his lap and unseeing looked into the fireplace… What a waste!
He had wanted to give her the world.
As he told Miss Elizabeth at Hunsford, he could not (and to be honest, did not wish to) perform to strangers. He could not talk about something trivial as if it had been the most important thing in the world. Talking to ladies was especially taxing for him for this very reason.
But it was not just that, at such events, he always became a target for matchmaking mamas. When he danced, it was not just a dance. It was talked about, even written about in papers sometimes. He learnt this lesson early. Now, he was simply tired of it. Is that not a justifiable circumstance? Is it a crime that I did not want to dance with a stranger? However lovely. Of course, he did not really look where Bingley gestured. He would have said the same thing if Cleopatra herself had sat there.
Miss Bennet was right though. He was not 'taciturn' because it was his nature; there was a reason he behaved the way he did. It was because he was uncomfortable. How others managed to mingle and chat away about everything and anything, he would never understand. He could not imagine how they could do it. Miss Elizabeth did it so effortlessly – that was one of the reasons he was intrigued by her.
He did not enjoy the pretentious, ostentatious, crowded balls of the ton either. He was a landed gentleman after all; he was familiar with gatherings in the countryside. It was the fact that wherever he appeared, rumours of his status and his money always preceded him. How people found out about his financial status and with such speed, he always wondered. Meryton was no exception: as soon as they made their introduction rounds, he heard the whisperings of how he was worth ten thousand a year and possibly more and a grand estate to the north.
As if that was all he was – his bank account. In the end, they wanted something from him. Even some of his friends and acquaintances with a sister to marry off. No wonder he had learnt to isolate himself with an expressionless face. Maybe it was not the best method, but it served its purpose. Most were discouraged by one such look of his. Georgiana referred to it as 'the Darcy look of disdain.' This made him smile.
Miss Bennet saw this and understood his stance? How refreshing!
The smile though quickly became bitter. Miss Elizabeth, lively as she was, obviously, again misinterpreted. She is quick to judge, he mused. I was right to tell her at Netherfield that she wilfully misunderstood everybody. Well, not everybody, but me, definitely. The woman did not give him a chance. Now he understood why. Miss Elizabeth did not understand him at all. In her haste to judge me, she forgot to look inside at herself. Elizabeth, why would you think I would look at you to find fault? What a silly notion. Because you insulted her, came the thought begrudgingly.
Miss Bennet saw all this. If Miss Elizabeth is a studier of character, so is her sister. And a much better one at that!
Well, that was unfortunate. He thought of the incident again. She was hurt, he realised. He felt like a cad. But I did not mean anything by it! I only said it to get Bingley to give up his pestering. Uh, Bingley! Fate seemed to have played him.
Darcy kept reading.
Was she not flirting with me? Of course not, he now realised. God, how did I not see that! Well, I was too busy denying the attraction. He thought back to their banters at Netherfield. He definitely was flirting with her when he suggested that he could admire their figures from his chair while they were walking. And admire her figure he did. He remembered how appalled he was with himself afterwards in his bed-chamber for letting his guard down. So much so that the next time they were together, in the library, he made sure she knew he was not interested in her. Very ungentlemanly, he ignored her for the whole time she accompanied him there. It took some effort, but he stayed silent the entire time.
He kept reading.
It cannot be! And I was almost convinced I was in error. Studier of character, indeed. She does not even know her own sister! For a second he did not know how to feel about this revelation. Then, he felt vindicated. He felt a fleeting triumph. How indignant she was on Miss Bennet's behalf! And for what? All for nothing. He was right: her heart was not touched.
He blushed. He could feel the warmth of it creep up his cheeks all the way to his ears. His hungry eyes read her words in a hurry. Miss Bennet… admired him?
No one has ever said anything like this to him. He read it again. She, somehow, knew him, and she liked him. He straightened. He considered the two sisters – how he really did not know them. One that intrigued him, despised him while the other, possibly, would have liked his attentions, only he did not give her a second thought. It was humbling. As he contemplated the matter, he wished her sister had not been so blind. If only.
But Miss Elizabeth was painfully blind. Had he jumped into a comedy of errors? An offhand remark had cost them both dearly. Sadness embraced him.
He was lonely, again.
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Circa1910 has done a wonderful job on editing the chapter.
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The story is pulled for publication.
Thank you to my faithful readers for this wonderful journey. Thank you for your many supportive comments that kept me going and thank your for the wonderful reviews.
Despite the trolls, I have enjoyed the writing process. I have learnt so much on the way. My editor was awesome.
I am thinking about another idea...maybe I will give it a go.
Take care you all.
Kind regards,
Kinga