Chapter 30: Leap of Faith
Bingley's letter was most extraordinary; even before I read it, just glancing at the cursive, I realized it was nothing like the letters I was used to trying to decipher with Georgiana's help. Remarkably absent were his typical blottings and scratch outs. The sentences were too long to contain only half-finished thoughts. I could only conclude that rather complete it with quickness and perhaps convey no meaning at all, Bingley chose to recopy it and amend it in the process into perfect slanting cursive that danced across the page. Although I had long encouraged him to similarly amend his papers at university, never had I seen such results.
Bingley began by sending greetings to my sister, Edwin and Miss Elizabeth, and made proper enquiries as to our health before reporting as follows:
I read your letter again and again and carefully pondered what you said. I considered calling on the Gardiners in the hope that I might be able to speak with Miss Bennet but, in the end, resolved against it. It would be cruel to raise her hopes and I might falter in pursuing what I desire most. I cannot now doubt myself.
I have always been too quick to consider myself in love. Many a pretty face has turned my head, however now I see that I need more. I have no lasting anger against Miss Bennet for her words and none against Miss Elizabeth as she apparently now thinks the better of her advice to her sister.
The worst Miss Bennet has shown herself to be is too easily swayed by the advice of someone she cares for and I confess at times, I have done the same. I cannot but recall our conversation at Netherfield with Miss Elizabeth about how I would yield easily to the persuasion of a friend without conviction out of regard for the requester. If you had acted in this way you would now be married to Miss de Bourgh.
I cannot like how Miss Bennet repeatedly tried to seek out my sisters, but I blame her actions on an excitability regarding her feelings rather than an unfeminine pursuit of a potential spouse. However, I am convinced that neither I nor her know each other well enough for there to be lasting damage on either side. If I am wrong on this regarding Miss Bennet, I cannot feel obligated from an acquaintance from a few months past to tie myself to her, especially considering my plans for my future.
Please know that I have always been impressed how you have risen to the task of managing Pemberley. It was a great responsibility to come to you at such a young age and although you are naturally aided in this by your steward, you take much upon yourself, much more than many men in your position would. However, such a life is not for me even though it would fulfill my father's desire.
It was all very well for my father to seek my wellbeing and enact plans to see to its fruition. I do not regret my university education, but I am not meant to be a man of letters or join the gentry. I do not wish to continue drifting, just content to enjoy life with no definite plan beyond that.
All I ever wished was to take a role in my grandfather's and father's carriage business. My father took many of the profits to fund my independence and dower my sisters. My uncle who took it over is struggling to keep it a growing concern. I believe I can do better when I buy back into the business and become his partner. In doing so I must focus on this endeavor rather than seeking a wife. There is much I need to learn but I aim to try. My sister Caroline is despondent about my choice, but it is my life, not hers.
I do not doubt that many people will not understand my choice, to willingly give up what my father strived to give me. But I must do what I deem best. As you are a true friend, I hope our friendship can endure my change in status.
Naturally, continuing the lease of Netherfield does not comport with my present plans. I am resolved to negotiate to give it up. However, I will delay if you wish to temporarily occupy it while courting Miss Elizabeth.
Bingley concluded with further salutations and granted his permission for me to share this missive with Georgiana and Miss Elizabeth if I so desired.
It was by far the most comprehensible missive I had ever received from Bingley and I felt it showed a maturity far beyond what I had come to expect from him. However, I felt a bit of sadness for how Miss Elizabeth was likely to react to the news. I wished, yet again, that things might be different for her sister, but I also respected Bingley's reasoning.
I was eager to discuss Bingley's letter with Miss Elizabeth when she next visited Rosings but was uncertain how best to go about it as I would not raise the matter in front of Lady Catherine. I found Georgiana, proposed a walk in the rose gardens (the rose bushes were not yet blooming but had leafed out considerably), showed the letter to Georgiana and raised my concerns.
Georgiana told me, "You are quite right that such a letter cannot be read aloud or discussed before Lady Catherine. The matter regarding Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet is a delicate one and our aunt would give make embarrassing inquiries and then announce her own opinions so decidedly that there would be no opportunity for you to discuss it with Miss Elizabeth at all. Brother I will see to it. I will arrange it all."
The next morning after breakfast Georgiana reassured me, "We are most fortunate. I have learned that Lady Catherine does not plan to supervise our tea today at all as she is meeting with her steward as she does on every Friday. She has delegated the task to my companion. I have spoken to Mrs. Annesley and she was most understanding when I explained that you wished to speak with Miss Elizabeth without anyone else overhearing. After practicing, we shall take tea, and then afterwards we shall all walk in the rose gardens. While Mrs. Annesley must, naturally, keep you both in sight, she will walk with me well back from both of you."
"How clever of you both," I told her. "You are the best of sisters."
She smiled and said, "Although of course I wish to help you, Brother, my actions are not entirely selfless. I wish to gain Miss Elizabeth Bennet as a sister and then perhaps in a year or two your bride might make me an aunt." She winked at me, giggled and then ran down the hall away from me in most unladylike display. I could not help but smile at her playfulness, but I did not run after her.
Then it was a matter of keeping myself busy until Miss Elizabeth arrived to practice the pianoforte with my sister (I said few words but admired her in her pink dress which brought a brightness to her cheeks and complimented her dark hair and eyes) and then waiting for them to finish so I could join them for tea. Much of this time was occupied by me pacing and practicing how I would address the matter with her, for I was nervous.
During tea, although both my sister and Mrs. Annesley attempted to facilitate the conversation, I sat quietly, properly. I did not want to do anything that would make Miss Elizabeth reject me, so I said very little at all.
Although I recalled my sister telling me that I needed to show Miss Elizabeth who I was, rather than be stiff and awkward, a countervailing thought was booming in my head. It was the voice of my father berating me, "Fitzwilliam Darcy, do not be a fool! Keep your face blank and your mouth shut."
Afterwards, when Georgiana suggested we all walk out to the rose garden, Miss Elizabeth quickly agreed. I offered my arm (which to my relief she accepted), and I felt some measure of calm wash over me from feeling her small, properly gloved hand in the crook of my arm.
We quickly outpaced the others before she slowed down, paused and half-turned in my direction, hand still on my arm, before addressing me. "Mr. Darcy, I am thoroughly flummoxed. Whatever has been the matter these last few days? Where is the man who I met on my walks? You have been so proper and distant I have wondered if you have thought to regret the regard you earlier showed me, but then you were most willing to hold my hand yesterday; I cannot make sense of it all."
"Oh, never would I regret what has passed between us!" The words burst forth from me, louder than I intended. I glanced back and reassured myself that Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley had also paused, well back from where we were but where they could easily see us.
I turned back to Miss Elizabeth and spoke most candidly, without any rehearsal. "I have tried so hard to be what I ought but cannot, and it has driven me to all distraction. I so want to earn your regard but what woman of sense would want someone like me? The things I can offer, perhaps, but the man that comes with Pemberley?"
"Mr. Darcy . . ." she was silent for a moment before giving my arm a light and reassuring squeeze. I was immediately reminded of how often Georgiana did the same and wondered, had she taught Miss Elizabeth to do likewise or had she just observed and seen such a gesture's effect on me? I felt my breathing slow a little and then I took a deep breath and began to calm.
"Such a worry is unfounded. I will never choose a husband simply for material advantage. Like all women, I do need a place to rest my head and a comfortable home but not much else. What I need beside this, is a husband I can respect, esteem and love. I have come to respect and esteem you. As for the last thing, I shall never be able to determine that if you hide yourself behind a mask."
"What must I do?" My mind was focused, waiting for instruction.
Miss Elizabeth squeezed my arm again and looked into my eyes, "Nothing too onerous. Just share who you are with me. I need to know your hopes and fears, the easy and the hard." I nodded. I could do that; I would do that.
She added, her tone different somehow, "I need to know the man I would bind my life to."
My heart soared with the idea that she was truly considering me, but I also felt some distress in knowing that I had come so close to ruining it all. "I will endeavor to do so," I told her. Never before had I been so earnest, so eager to do what another person asked of me, but I did not know what else to say to start doing as she wished.
"Can you not talk to me as you would to Miss Darcy or Mr. Bingley?"
I considered a moment, "I am not equal parts hope, fear and longing for a dreamed of future with them, so it cannot be the same."
"I am sure that is true," here she paused and squeezed my arm again, "but surely you can be yourself with all those things present, can you not?"
"I shall do my best, Miss Elizabeth." As I did not know how I should be sharing of myself then, I endeavored to use the time to speak to her about the matter which had necessitated privacy in the first place. "Should you like to hear of the letter I had from Bingley?"
I read the letter to her, pausing to assert my own thoughts on the matters he raised. As I had expected, she expressed regret that things could not be mended between her sister and Bingley, telling me, "I have not served my sister well, but Jane is a most kind and gracious sister."
Miss Elizabeth then shared, "Two days ago I received a letter from Jane. She was responding to a letter I sent her in which I apologized for my conduct and poor advice to her. It seems madness that while you have forgiven how I acted and what I thought that she is still paying the price. While I have not her leave to share its words—she is a very private person whose feelings, though fervent are not for public display—she has forgiven me and has said she is now determined to forget about Mr. Bingley. If I may share Mr. Bingley's conclusion that neither of them knew the other well enough and of his decision to concentrate on his family's carriage business, rather than seek a bride," she paused for my approval which I gave with a nod, "I believe it may aid her in this attempt."
Naturally, I told her, "I think it would be well if you told Miss Bennet whatever you think would best help her move forward in her life."
We talked of inconsequential matters for a few minutes while I tried to decide whether to raise another important matter to her, all that had occurred between myself and Edwin. After a while I fell silent as I warred with myself. I wanted to tell her, felt I should tell her (more so as I had just agreed to share things with her), but at the same time our conversation had gone so well that I was loath to bring up anything else. I stared at my hands for a while instead of meeting her eyes.
Miss Elizabeth must have suspected there was more I wished to tell her, because she broke the silence. "Please, Mr. Darcy, what is it? I shall keep all your confidences; of that you need have no fear."
"Do you know why my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, left Rosings?" I asked, trying to gauge exactly what to tell her. It was easier to speak to her without seeing emotions flow upon her face, to just hear her lovely disembodied voice. I kept looking at my gloved hands and noticed a seam was coming loose.
"I have a sense, though I may be wrong. Did you know he called at the parsonage before he left?"
"No, I did not." I paused, looked up at her and waited for her to say more.
Miss Elizabeth seemed to be considering as she slid a finger along the ribbon that was knotted under her chin to keep her bonnet upon her head. It was a grosgrain ribbon in a light shade of pink and I watched as her finger switched from skimming along it, to slipping under it to ease it slightly away from her throat. I both wished that it could be my finger sliding under her ribbon and that the pink ribbon could join her yellow one which even now was resting deep in my pocket.
"The Colonel was everything proper in informing us that business with his father the Earl necessitating him leaving and that he was sorry to be going. When he said the word 'sorry' he stared straight at me. I have concluded that he was seeking to apologize for his earlier behavior but could not properly do so in front of the Collinses. However, I am not sure that I believe his excuse as he had never mentioned planning on departing before you."
She had left me an opening, facilitated my speaking, and I determined to take it. "His father did not summon him back. I told him to go, though our exchange likely did prompt him to visit his father. I know we have spoken before about how the Colonel, that is Edwin, and Lady Catherine as well desired that I wed my cousin Anne. They presented it as my duty and a foregone conclusion, though I had no desire to do so. My aunt I know did so wishing to safeguard her daughter for the time when she departs this world, while Edwin sought to serve his family in a different manner."
I considered what else to tell Miss Elizabeth when the saying, "In for a penny, in for a pound," suddenly ran through my head. It was one of those expressions that my tutor Mr. Stowbaugh worked very diligently to teach me, explaining the origin had to do with being in debt. I remembered arguing that logically it was far worse to be in debt a pound instead of only a penny, but that also meant that I remembered this expression.
It seemed apt for such a time as this and I decided to heed it. I felt I could not tell Miss Elizabeth too much as it would be far better for her to know all the effects of what marrying me might mean for her life. Still, it was difficult to bring up the matter and I swallowed hard as I forced myself to do so. If I would be rejected now, so be it.
"I know not if he is right, but Edwin believes that Anne and I share the same malady and that it came through our maternal line as our mothers were sisters. He believes this taint shall extend to any children I should sire, or she should bear."
"If this is the case, why did he wish for your union?" She wrinkled her forehead. I noticed that a strand of her curly dark hair had come loose from near her ear (perhaps she had freed it as she was working her finger along her bonnet ribbon) and was curved around her neck, and the corkscrew hung over the neckline of her gown. My fingers itched to touch that errant strand, but I resisted the inappropriate urge and forced myself to consider her question and the answer I should make.
I felt myself flush as I prepared to speak far more candidly than I had ever spoken to a woman. I stared at her bonnet so I would not have to see her face when I told her, "Edwin urged I practice restraint and keep us both from having children, then pass our estates to my sister."
I let my eyes drift lower, to see hers, "With Anne's weak heart it may be best for her if she has no children."
"Have you a weak heart as well? I have seen no sign of it." Miss Elizabeth's eyes were on me as if she could gage my health by merely looking at me.
"No, Anne was born strong, it is only a childhood illness with lasting effect that troubles her heart. She tires easily and sometime strains to breathe, but nothing in our innate state makes us weak. My cousin was speaking of our oddities as the thing that should end with us."
Miss Elizabeth's brow wrinkled. "Although I have been in company with Miss de Bourgh on more than one occasion, usually she is very quiet and withdrawn. Lately I have seen her more when Miss Darcy and I practice, but still her companion is always close at hand. I confess I concluded that Miss de Bourgh is how she is because she is sickly, shy and not used to company. Still, I think she is warming toward me."
I had not thought I would have to explain how Anne was to Miss Elizabeth, but there was nothing but to do it. I told her, "Anne, is rather like me only more so. I had more assistance in learning how to be in the world, help in learning how to understand the things that come so naturally to other people. My nurse, my tutor, my mother and so many others have helped me. Lady Catherine and Mrs. Jenkinson have done what they could, but I think more can be done."
I decided to tell her further, as it would impact any woman I married also, "I have promised my aunt to care for Anne if she outlives her mother."
She nodded, "It is only right that family should care for one another and Miss de Bourgh has no brother to do it, although I wonder a little at her wanting your assistance rather than the Earl's."
"It is precisely because Lady Catherine believes I can understand Anne better than anyone else in the family that she wanted me for this task once I told her I would never marry Anne."
I saw Miss Elizabeth ponder the matter, but then she nodded (which cause that errant strand of curl to bob).
I continued on, "I know not whether our shared oddities are a legacy from my grandmother or not. I saw no sign that anyone else in our families was like us, yet I never knew our Fitzwilliam grandparents or their siblings. Georgiana has the same parents as I, yet she is untouched. I know not even what this thing is that I seem to share with Anne, though she is far different than me. I have never known anyone that is like us."
Miss Elizabeth took a moment to consider this before responding, "So that is why the Colonel tried to discourage a union between us! I thought he was spouting nonsense when he spoke of a blood contamination."
Her eyes widened and I wondered then if she would reject me outright. I waited for her to step away from me and leave, but instead she stayed right where she was. I felt tears well up in my eyes and my throat felt thick, but I swallowed them down and forced myself to continue. If Miss Elizabeth wanted to know my thoughts and feelings, then she would have them.
"I have told you what I was like when a child, but I know not what it was like for my father and mother to have a child like me. I know they loved me but of the two only my mother accepted me as I was. It must have been very difficult for her to see how I was not like other children and to not know how I would turn out. At times there were things she could do to help me. At other times I had tantrums that nothing could quell until I was utterly exhausted."
Her eyes were on me, which I noticed each time I deigned to meet them (often instead I let my eyes float away, to stare at her bonnet or dress, or to glance back at my sister and her companion).
"My father was often ashamed of my behavior. When I was a lad especially, I had very little self-control. He tried to cure me, let my governess have a free hand, but they both failed. However, being the eldest, the heir and only son, he could not put me aside."
"Aside?" Miss Elizabeth asked. I quickly glanced up at her, saw that her eyes were wide, and her lower lip hung slightly open.
I lowered my eyes, studied a rosebush, noticed that it had begun to develop some buds, although naturally they were not yet open. "Yes," I forced a harsh chuckle out.
Miss Elizabeth slid her hand slightly down the crook of my arm and I expected her to release it, but instead felt her slide her hand up and down along my coat clad lower arm in a soothing gesture. Her reassurance made me willing to explain the matter.
"Have you not known of children who were born with deformities? Or someone who developed insanity? Asylums are supposed to provide treatment for the unfortunate, but instead most simply house them until they die."
I did not give her a chance to answer before I continued. "I remember once Father was very angry when I smiled at a funeral. He had not wanted to take me at all, but my mother did not want me to be left out, for me to not be one of the men. It was my uncle's funeral and as the minister droned on, I drifted away in remembering a pleasant time I spent fishing with my uncle. He was a peaceable fellow and was content with silence besides giving me the needed instruction. I remember I used this interlude while holding the pole and watching the line float out to think my own thoughts. I was old enough then to resist the lure of playing with the line myself. In the end, I even caught a fish (though only because my uncle grabbed the pole from me when I hesitated in pulling the fish from the stream as it was too floppy and wet).
"At the funeral my father elbowed me, I looked over at him and saw he was scowling, it was so obvious that he was angry that I could not mistake his expression for anything else, but I did not understand why he was upset. Later when we were in the carriage with the doors closed he told me, 'Son, how dare you disrespect your uncle with your unseemly behavior! Undoubtedly your grieving Aunt Matilda will be hurt to learn from her other male relatives about how her nephew was grinning like an imbecile while everyone else paid him the proper respect.'
"I tried to explain. Words came easier to me now. But he was only slightly mollified. He sighed and told me, 'Fitzwilliam Darcy, do not be a fool! Keep your face blank and your mouth shut. Do you not see that if you cannot show the correct emotion, it is always more appropriate to show no emotion at all? You may seem proud or pompous, but that is proper for someone of your status. Pride, where there is a real superiority of mind (or for you, simply based on your birthright and the Darcy name) will be always under good regulation.'
"I took that lesson seriously. It was firmly fixed in my mind that it was far better to keep a bland face, to be proper, than to risk embarrassment to my family. At Father's funeral a few years later, I was determined to make him proud. I kept my face remained as still and fixed as if it were made of stone. But when I returned home to my mother after he was laid in the church-yard plot, I wept."
I felt a taste of the sadness I felt that day, which reminded me also of how I felt when Mother died. I swallowed away the threatened tears and took another deep breath. By this time, Miss Elizabeth's hand had stilled and was now resting slightly above my elbow. I felt a comforting squeeze. I forced myself to look up at her but allowed my eyes to drift away afterward.
"While I had long believed that my father did not truly trust me with his legacy as, though he left Pemberley to me and me alone, he also left detailed plans and split guardianship of Georgiana between me and Edwin. But I did not know until I learned it from Edwin in the letter he left me when departing from Rosings, that Edwin was essentially made to serve my father from beyond the grave as a guardian for me, also. His honor was engaged based on an inheritance my father left him."
I wanted to cry like a small child and receive comfort in her arms, but she was not my mother and I was not a child and there was more to tell her. "My father apparently stated that my cousin's job could be complete if Edwin became confident I could manage properly by myself. Although Edwin let me order him away, I am not sure whether I proved my independence or perhaps he just could not stand his task any longer. He should not be my keeper rather than having the opportunity to pursue his own life, his own wife. I would not blame you if after learning all of this you wish to refuse my suite."
"How can you think such a thing?" Miss Elizabeth asked me. "If I had any doubt as to your character, you have proven it by your candor."
"How can I be worthy of you?" I asked her. "Have you heard nothing I had said about the disease that may live in my loins and how I was never truly meant to be Master of Pemberley? My whole life I was to have minders and keepers. My father tasked Mr. Wickham with being my friend because my father wanted me to be like him! He is who everyone wanted as a friend, not me."
Miss Elizabeth gently answered, "No one who truly knew Mr. Wickham would want his friendship, have no doubt. It is not the number of friendships a man has that proves his value, but the quality of the friendships he does have. I have seen for myself the depth of affection between yourself and Mr. Bingley."
That made me feel a bit better, but her next words were even more helpful. "Mr. Darcy, can you not see that even if your father did not trust you, that Lady Catherine does? I cannot imagine that anything is more precious to her than her daughter. While perhaps not everyone cannot see your value, rest assured that I can."
I looked at Miss Elizabeth then and believed she meant what she said. The hurt was still there, but her faith in me had softened it. With one last squeeze of my arm, she smiled at me and then turned us back toward the house.
