Chapter Eighteen: The Consequences of Lies
Thursday came. Elizabeth was not entirely distressed to once again put herself in the way of Mr. Darcy, as the period between the end of the Westerham Ball and that Thursday allowed some time for her emotions to cool. She had certainly not forgive him—how could she ever?—but she imagined that she could now meet with him and feel nearly as indifferent as before. She reconciled her feelings in that Jane seemed to be improving; she was a bit more talkative than she had been before, and only looked truly unhappy in those periods of long reflection when one becomes detached to a conversation, which do, on occasion, occur.
Mrs. Bennet was eager to have her daughter look well for Lady Catherine and her nephews; and though she would not give a direct answer as to what Elizabeth could attribute the honor to, if her mother was not entirely mistaken, it would be something very delightful. However, due to only the indirect answers which she received, she supposed that her mother really hadn't any idea, and was only pleased that Mr. Darcy's aunt seemed to be distinguishing her to some extent. Mrs. Bennet, of course, always thought the best of a situation (at least, thought of which outcome would most suit her fancy), and imagined Mr. Darcy wishing to propose to Elizabeth, with his aunt's hearty commendation. Another daughter, married, and with ten thousand a year! She could think of nothing else. Mary, Mr. Collins, Mr. Bingley did not occupy her; it was all Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth.
After having finally gained the approval of her mother on her appearance, Elizabeth was sent off to Rosings with some especially cheerful adieus from Mrs. Bennet. It was a leisurely walk, and a fine day, and the solitude allowed her to organize her thoughts as she came upon Rosings Hall. She was not afraid of Lady Catherine; only concerned as to what she might have to say. Ninety percent of what Lady Catherine spoke was words of reprimand and scorn, and she could not see why there should have been any exception on this occasion. At length, she entered the house, and was shown into the parlor in which she and her family were always received.
Elizabeth was surprised to see only Mr. Darcy and his aunt sitting. Colonel Fitzwilliam, Miss de Bourgh, and the latter's governess were absent; and Elizabeth ascertained almost immediately that something was amiss, judging by the scowl fixed on Lady Catherine's face. Mr. Darcy seemed quite as bewildered as she was (which was some consolation for Elizabeth to be not the only one ignorant).
"Miss Bennet," said Lady Catherine coldly, putting down her tea, though not offering either her nephew or Elizabeth any for themselves. There was a dramatic pause after these two words, as if Lady Catherine expected either of them to begin the subject which she had not-so-clearly alluded to; however, her two guests only stared blankly.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam and—" began Elizabeth, wanting to break some of the awkward and unwelcome silence.
"Yes, they are away," snapped Lady Catherine, seeming that each moment heightened her agitation, and then added: "Surely neither of you can be at a loss to assume as to why it is that I have called you here."
"No, indeed, your Ladyship, I cannot account for the honor at all," replied Elizabeth, bewildered. Mr. Darcy declared his acquiescence to Elizabeth's speech.
"Miss Bennet," said Lady Catherine again, pronouncing the words in very a similar manner as she had when she greeted Elizabeth, "I have spoken with your mother, and your brother and sister. Now what have you to say?"
"Only that I am exceedingly confused! Pray, do tell me what it was they had to say!" cried Elizabeth, becoming slightly exasperated now.
"Aunt, I believe there is a misunder—" said Mr. Darcy, though he was promptly interrupted by a seemingly very angry Lady Catherine.
"There has been no misunderstanding, Darcy. Indeed, I believe I know much more than either of you are aware, as much as you may wish to pretend that you are ignorant of it all! I should be surprised that the both of you did not suppose that I should find out. If you do not confess the truth this very instance, I declare I shall be very angry. And you can already suppose my opinion on the subject."
"The truth is, is that I have no idea what you are speaking of!" replied Mr. Darcy, somewhat angrily.
"Foolish! I am excessively disappointed in the both of you. Darcy, I have known you since infancy—and Miss Bennet—although I did observe some lack of decorum in your behavior, I had never supposed you so bad. I will not be deceived by either of you any longer; I will not stand for this!"
It was clear that Mr. Darcy was shocked by this speech, with his complexion becoming of more heightened color with each word that his aunt pronounced. He could not bear to have Elizabeth abused so cruelly! It tore on his conscience, and he only wished that Elizabeth would not be too much offended! He would have stood up and left, there and then, with little intention of returning; but his curiosity was still overwhelming, and he was not so mean as to leave poor Elizabeth in the clutches of Lady Catherine.
As both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were much too angry to reply, Lady Catherine found this sufficient encouragement to continue.
"Headstrong, foolish! How dare you continue on in this matter! Your conscience, surely, must tell you that I know of your secret engagement."
"Secret engagement?" interrupted Elizabeth, never having heard anything more completely absurd in her entire life, "And my family told you this!"
"I assure you, Miss Bennet, it was implied in everything they said; they had no scruples in telling me their feelings! And they expected me to approve! To approve of a marriage to a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world! It is the most ridiculous thing in the world. To connect myself with such a family as yours, Miss Bennet; did you really expect me to approve?"
"And what if I were engaged to Elizabeth?" asked Mr. Darcy, nearly shouting. Elizabeth stared at him, wondering if he was only trying to heighten his aunt's agitation further; she had no desire to stay there one moment longer, but supposed that she would be sent away by force soon enough.
"So you do not deny it! And on first-name terms, as well! You are an unworthy boy, Darcy! Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Do you not recall your tacit engagement to my daughter? We planned your union while you were in your cradles—preposterous!"
"The keyword is tacit," responded Mr. Darcy; "and you cannot prevent me from marrying whomever I choose!"
"But we are not secretly engaged!" added Elizabeth, finding this absolutely necessary to say in order for Lady Catherine not to murder them both.
"Indeed! Well, it is not a secret any longer, is it?" snapped Lady Catherine viciously.
"I have no idea whence this supposition of yours sprung," retorted Elizabeth, "but I assure you that it is wholly without foundation! I do not know what my family has said to you, but it has certainly never been established that I was engaged to Mr. Darcy! I have never been engaged to Mr. Darcy! I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no farther on the subject."
"Not so hasty, if you please!" cried Lady Catherine; "I have by no means done. Will you promise me—will you both promise me, if what Miss Bennet says is indeed the truth—to never enter into such an engagement?"
"I will make no promise of the kind!" divulged Mr. Darcy, standing now.
"You can have nothing further to say!" cried Elizabeth; "You have insulted me in very possible method. I must beg to take my leave."
And so Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy quitted the room, both fuming, as Lady Catherine continued making similar remarks (something to the effect of "so you are determined to have one another", though Elizabeth was not listening). It seemed perfectly natural, then, that as they were both very angry, that they should continue to walk together, and not pay the least bit of attention to where it was that they were headed; for misery loves company.
The nature of their anger, however, was entirely different. Elizabeth was offended that Lady Catherine should assume that they were engaged! That she would possibly be induced to marry someone who had ruined the prospects of poor Mr. Wickham, and destroyed her beloved sister's chance for happiness! It was absolutely ridiculous! Mr. Darcy, however, not so much minding the insults directed towards himself (for, in truth, he had never found all that much consequence in what his aunt said), but could not bear what she had said to Elizabeth. Poor, dear Elizabeth! To be insulted so abominably to her face! However, neither took much notice of the other, for they were both too much wrapped up in their own thoughts to notice anything or anybody around them.
How long had she been walking? Elizabeth hardly knew. She suddenly became conscious of everything around her; the wild landscape surrounding her, Mr. Darcy striding beside her. She suddenly stopped, realizing that she had to leave.
"I have to leave," she said abruptly, causing Mr. Darcy to accordingly stop.
"Miss Bennet," said her companion, though in a much softer tone than Lady Catherine had pronounced it, "I must tell you—"
"You must tell me later," said Elizabeth, the agitation of being provoked by Lady Catherine having not entirely worn off, "but what you must tell me now is how I may leave."
The tone of his voice, and what he had said to Lady Catherine—he had called her 'Elizabeth'—had all pieced themselves together by this point in Elizabeth's mind, and she found it quite alarming. She supposed that perhaps her mother was too clever for her! He had attended the ball in Westerham; asked her to dance on multiple occasions; and as unwilling as she was to admit it, it would seem that there was some preference. Had she not had all of this evidence laid out before her, it would have seemed the most improbable thing in the world; yet there it all was, for her observation. But she had thought she had acted, spoken plainly; could he not perceive her indifference? She had to leave; she had to reflect; and be alone.
Mr. Darcy did not seem as if he had expected such a response; and after a brief hesitation, gave her directions on how she might find the best route to the parsonage. But his heart was heavy; he knew that with his aunt's reproach, he would have no choice but to depart immediately; and might he ever see dear Elizabeth again! It seemed, as she turned to walk away, that he must reflect on all of their acquaintance, and expect it to continue no longer; that she may be forever fixed in his memory as the woman whom had been the tormenter of his soul; and nothing more. It did not seem sufficient. His head was satisfied; nothing could be better than to separate himself from her; but his heart would not allow him to.
"I am sorry," he said, causing Elizabeth to turn; "I am sorry for my aunt's behavior."
"Sir; it is not for us to choose whose blood we inherit. You can no more control your aunt's behavior than I control the behavior of my relations."
Elizabeth fixed her eyes on Mr. Darcy, to see how he would bear her words. She knew too well that the conduct of her family, and her situation in life had influence over his discouraging Mr. Bingley from attaching himself to Jane. She had intended to cause him pain; to have him regret those disgusting principles which he had acted upon; yet Mr. Darcy interpreted as the highest praise. To not hold an immovable grudge against him due to what his aunt had said, to know that she did not hate him for it, seemed the perfect words with which to end their acquaintance. It was precisely what he felt he ought to have wished. And though Elizabeth was eager to depart, Mr. Darcy surprised her yet again. He strode closer to her, and lifted her hand to his lips. She was too much shocked by this act of gallantry to withdraw. She could sense by his touch that he was uneasy; his hands trembled, and his expression was nervous. His lips gently touched the back of her hand. Upon releasing her hand, he observed her surprised expression—Mr. Darcy resolved on it being the perfect image of Elizabeth which he hoped to have burnt into his memory forever—and, quickly turning away, began to leave himself.
As Elizabeth recalled the path that Mr. Darcy had instructed her to take, she could not help but suppose she could have never guessed the events of that morning to occur in such a manner as they did. She was shocked, angered by Lady Catherine's supposition; not even her own mother would have gone so far to assume such a thing; but equally confused and perturbed by Mr. Darcy's manners. There was something completely incomprehensible about him. All of his actions marked that he had the greatest disdain for others; yet all of his emotions seemed to portray a widely contradictory story! There was something very reserved, yet very vulnerable about him; and though Elizabeth was determined on hating him, there was also something which she found frustratingly endearing.
