Chapter 7
Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth did meet the next day, and the day after that, and over the next few mornings they settled into a routine. She was surprised that the secret did not eat at her, as she had thought that it would, and she did not regret her choice. This was helped by the absolute separation that she and Darcy maintained between their appointments and their daily lives. Darcy was his usual reserved self in company and, though not as dismissive of Elizabeth as he had once been, he only engaged her in conversation to contradict her delightfully (to his mind) spirited opinions. Their clandestine encounters were never mentioned between them outside of that room and Elizabeth, though not wishing to end their arrangement, cringed if even the most oblique reference to it was made.
One such occurrence arose when the residents of Netherfield were assembled in the drawing room before dinner on the evening following Darcy and Elizabeth's initial meeting. She had returned to her room afterwards to lie on the bed and enjoy the after effects. By the time she had dressed to go downstairs, she had thought that all evidence had been erased. Apparently this was not the case, as Bingley, ever the gentleman, had announced:
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet! How wonderful it is to see you looking so much better. I know that Miss Bennet has been rather worried for your health and I believe I speak for all of us when I tell you how delighted we all are that you seem to be feeling so much better. Indeed, you are quite glowing! Is she not Jane- I mean, Miss Bennet?"
The other occupants of the room were too much diverted by Bingley's slip of the tongue to notice Darcy's smouldering gaze or the object of his contemplation blushing vividly in response.
Darcy had become much more comfortable with their bizarre situation. Elizabeth's embarrassment was, understandably, more persistent, as she was in the more vulnerable and exposed position. On the second day of their arrangement, her discomfort reached its peak. As she reached completion, she withheld any vocal signal of her rapture only to have it spurt from her, in spite of herself, in the form of a liquid as confusingly satisfying as it was revolting to her. Most of the fluid had dribbled down the crevice of her buttocks and been absorbed by her chair, but it had also sprayed Mr. Darcy's breeches. His eyes widened in shock and- Elizabeth was sure- disgust, as he stared down at the stain on his knee. She hovered a moment, overcome by disbelief and humiliation, before scrabbling from the chair and bolting for the door, almost climbing over Darcy in the process.
He had said not a word at the time and made no attempt to cancel their meeting for the next day. She proceeded to the room- their room- the next morning, unsure of what she would find. Darcy was waiting as usual and, as he had evidently decided to ignore the incident of the day before, Elizabeth did the same. She noticed, however, as they took their places, that he had brought with him an extra handkerchief, which he carefully folded and placed on the chair beside her.
One day, after leaving Mr. Darcy and returning to her room, as had become her habit, she flung open the door ready to rush to the bed and throw herself upon it, when the sight of a perplexed Jane awaiting her arrested Elizabeth. She had been caught.
"I came up to see how you were- you've been so tired lately. Have you not been resting in your room as usual?" Jane was too good to allow any sarcasm or scorn to enter her voice.
"I… I was, but… I went down to the library to get a book," Elizabeth prevaricated; and in response to Jane's quizzical gaze at her empty hands, "I could not find the volume I was looking for- it was the one we were discussing last night, by Pope. I think Mr. Darcy may have taken it." What are you doing? Do not mention Mr. Darcy! Luckily Jane was not suspicious by nature and was eager to believe her sister's excuse.
"Yes, I remember that discussion as you call it. You were admiring Blake's poetry and Mr. Darcy felt it was excessively sentimental(1), which opinion, of course, you could not allow him. I have never seen two people happier to be arguing than you and Mr. Darcy. I'm sure Miss Bingley was scandalised at how opinionated you were." This was expressed with a smile and Elizabeth did not fear her sister's censure; though she was disturbed that not only her sister, but other members of the household, had recognised the tumultuous nature of her relationship with Mr. Darcy.
"I don't think happy is the applicable word," she replied. "Though it is satisfying when I get the better of him in a debate, as I believe did on that occasion."
"How could anyone with the slightest feeling think of Blake as 'excessively sentimental'?" Trust Darcy to shun any expression of sensibility. The man doesn't trust its existence in others because it's entirely lacking in him!
Jane's face took on a more sombre mien when she said, "You do not seem as fatigued today as you have done and I am glad of it. You know it would be a relief to me to know that you really are feeling better and I would not blame you, Lizzie, if you still needed this time to yourself every day: I know that you and Miss Bingley are not the best of friends."
It was the most direct acknowledgement of the discord in the house that Jane had ever made. Elizabeth took her sister's hands in her own and brought her to sit on the bed.
"I am sorry Jane. I have been terribly selfish. I should have realised that this situation was as difficult for you as it has been for me. And I have added to it by making you worry about me. It is true- I am well now. I still feel melancholy on occasion, but I can sleep and my appetite is returned; my mid-morning naps are not strictly necessary." She met Jane's eyes uneasily. "I simply feel that I could not spend a whole morning in their company and maintain my equanimity! And so I have been abandoning you. I am so very sorry."
"I had suspected as much, but did not want to mention it as your time alone seems to do you so much good. I cannot begrudge you that respite- I know that your temper was not made for confinement, especially with someone as disagreeable as Miss Bingley."
Elizabeth's eyes glinted with mischief.
"Jane, you wicked creature! To castigate poor, obliging Miss Bingley so," she teased, as Jane's self-satisfied smile at her own criticism indicated that it was safe to do so.
As Jane had brought it up, Elizabeth was now resolved on having that discussion that she had been postponing and continued more seriously.
"I cannot help but notice that relations between Mr. Bingley's sisters and yourself have soured. I won't deny that I am glad you may be finally seeing their true colours and will be more guarded with them in future, but I am sorry that you have had to withstand their cruelty, for cruelty is what it has been at times. And that is merely what I have seen. What must it have been like for you when I was confined to my rooms and you were left alone with them?"
"Lizzie, do not berate yourself! I will not deny that I was mistaken in my opinion of Miss Bingley, in particular, and her regard for me. It has been difficult, but my acquaintance with Mr. Bingley has been a great support, while you have been indisposed."
If her words had not confirmed her feelings towards the gentleman her delicate blush would have done so and the mood of the conversation altered from one of apology and sympathy to felicitations.
"Acquaintance! That is putting it lightly. Oh, I am so happy for you, Jane! Bingley's sentiments are evident for anyone to see." At Jane's spluttering denial that there was any cause fort congratulations, Elizabeth made pains to put her at ease.
"Be assured, I will not presume anything unless I hear it from your own lips- how is that? However, I will say that should you have any… agreeable intelligence to relate, I will congratulate you wholeheartedly on your most deserved happiness and do my best to be surprised."
They both giggled at Lizzie's ribbing, but seeing that Jane remained uncomfortable with the topic, Elizabeth searched for something else to discuss. When a stray thought entered her head, she wondered for a moment if she should mention it. Letting go of Jane's hands to play with the threads on the counterpane, she could not look at her sister when she remarked:
"I notice that Mr. Darcy has also been kind to you in the absence of Miss Bingley's friendship. I had never before seen him so attentive to you, or, indeed, to anyone." She left the question, 'Why is he so kind to you?' unsaid. The smile that grew on Jane's face was disconcerting to Elizabeth and she thought that she no longer wanted to know.
"Mr. Darcy is a gentleman. Though not as warm as Mr. Bingley, his consideration has been very much appreciated. Since we lost Papa and Mary, he has been very kind to me. He told me how he and his sister dealt with their grief on their father's death- it was reassuring to know that he has gone through what we have and understands our grief."
Elizabeth thought back to a day in the library when she had believed that Mr. Darcy had understood. It seemed like such a long time ago now. She couldn't deny that the continuation of the physical act was still welcome to her, but the compassion and empathy between them that day had never returned. She had almost forgotten the consolation that she had received when Darcy had spoken so openly to her, so that she had longed to cling to him like shelter in a storm. Elizabeth wondered for the first time where it had all gone wrong.
She did not trust herself to respond to Jane's praise of him and undertook again to change the subject.
"How can I help make this stay easier for you, Jane? Would you like to take ill and hide in your room? I could sneak up with biscuits and love notes from Mr. Bingley!"
"No, Lizzie, I don't think the household can take another fainting spell so soon after the last! Truly, though, I know you do not feel that you belong here- in fact I feel a little of that myself- but you should have seen the party when you fainted; they were genuinely concerned and the gentlemen in particular were very solicitous. Mr. Darcy was shouting orders like he was Master of the estate, instead of a guest of Mr. Bingley's. Of course he was only too happy to allow Mr. Darcy to exercise his authority for your benefit. As for
Mr. Hurst, though. Well, he was in his cups at the time, which must pardon him, but not even Louisa could silence his insinuations of lost virtue and signs that a woman is increasing." Jane's voice was reduced to a whisper at this point, and Elizabeth considered how innocent her sister seemed to her now.
"And the ladies?"
"Well, I do believe they were in shock- so much so that they were almost useless." Both sisters burst out laughing at this and continued so for several minutes, not merely due to Jane's uncharacteristically acerbic remark, but as a release from the tension that was always present in this house.
When Jane assured her that she was welcome to continue her morning routine of disappearing to her room, Elizabeth was reminded of her deceit and the real, illicit reason for her absences that she could never admit to Jane. A hollow that their momentary reconnection had filled reopened inside of her. Elizabeth only nodded in response, having entirely lost that weightless sensation she had felt before she walked in the door.
Though, for the most part, Elizabeth's meetings with Darcy continued routinely and he conducted himself with the same detachment that she had come to expect from him, some of his behaviour did confound her. He always began as coldly and indifferently as ever, but, like his errant lifting of her skirt, he would display odd quirks of behaviour at times, such as a forefinger run slowly along her inner thigh one morning. These outbursts, though isolated, were becoming harder to ignore. Elizabeth's annoyance built at his challenging her limits and she was on the brink of addressing this with him, though reluctant to do so, knowing as she did that the ensuing argument could spell the end of their arrangement.
Another worrying trend was Darcy's burgeoning habit of initiating conversation. As he was wiping his hand, he began one day by asking, "Have you had an opportunity to read 'An Essay on Criticism'(2)? I noticed that there is a copy in the library."
Elizabeth hardly knew how to answer this perfectly normal enquiry that had no place in this perfectly abnormal situation. She tried to formulate an answer as she lowered her legs to the ground and closed them as much as she could. Darcy had not moved away and his knees, butting against her chair, were now between hers, her skirt draping over them both. He leaned towards her awaiting an answer and Elizabeth felt that he was unnervingly close.
"No… not yet. I am in the middle of 'The Vision of Don Roderick'."
"I see. And are you enjoying it? I confess I have not read it, though the cause is one that is close to my heart- I have a cousin who fought in that campaign(3)"
Elizabeth merely stared in confusion at his attempt to carry on a conversation from between her legs. She wondered what he thought he was doing. Did he expect to have a civilised discussion here, in this room? She took a breath to answer, but released it without speaking. Before she could try again, Darcy seemed to have realised the absurdity of his actions and cleared his throat before he removed to the fireplace, returning to his usual routine.
After nearly a week of illicit meetings, Elizabeth was prepared for bed one evening, her hair tied in a loose plait over her shoulder, and was about to climb in when her door opened to admit an agitated Mr. Darcy.
"Good evening, Miss Bennet. I hope you are well," he said immediately on entering the room.
Elizabeth's initial reaction to his arrivalwas resentment. It was just like Darcy to discount her wishes and arrive without invitation. Yet again she was struck by her disgust at the familiarity which allowed him to enter her bedchamber unannounced. She remembered his reaction to her arriving at his door and had half a mind to offer a similar reception. She kept silent.
"I have come to realise that…" Darcy finally continued, "I have neglected to enquire after your health."
"My health." It was not a question, but a sardonic riposte borne out of sheer frustration and incredulity.
"Yes. Our arrangement was begun as a remedy to your insomnia. But, due to circumstances, we have had to conduct the… meetings earlier in the day and I was just wondering whether this has had an effect on the… effectiveness…"
Darcy's voice trailed off in uncharacteristic timorousness and he was mortified at his own stupidity. Why are you here, you fool? It had been a spur of the moment decision and he had been trying to dissuade himself from appearing in her room ever since the thought had occurred to him. He could hardly believe that he had dared to go through with it.
"I am perfectly well, Mr. Darcy", Elizabeth finally replied. "I am sleeping comfortably these days. In fact I was just about to retire to bed when you arrived."
What, in her mind, was a hint for him to leave was, to Darcy, a most beautiful image and conjured all manner of satisfying conclusions to this encounter.
"Yes, well…," was as far as he got before Elizabeth interrupted.
"Mr. Darcy, you take a great risk in coming here at this time of the evening. As you have said yourself, it is not safe to be entering each other's rooms at night. Others are still awake in the house: Hattie has just left me and if you had been a few minutes earlier, you would have walked in on her brushing my hair."
This was intended to convey her disapproval, but Darcy was engrossed in a vision of such charming domesticity that he missed the bite in her voice.
"All is well Miss Bennet, I asked my valet to inform me when the maid had retired and I knew it was safe to come."
"What! Your valet knows you are here? I cannot believe that you would jeopardise my reputation in this way. What if he tells the other servants? We will be the talk of the house- of the entire village!"
Darcy moved forward, sorely tempted to take her hand.
"Do not make yourself uneasy. You may rest assured that my valet will not mention this to a soul. Murray has worked for my family since he was a boy and he is utterly trustworthy; I would not have risked involving him otherwise."
Elizabeth was livid at his presumption and carelessness- careless of her reputation, at little risk to himself. Her anger was not assuaged by the thought that this Murray must have assisted Darcy through many such intrigues.
"Even if he does not say anything- and I still cannot believe that you would risk it- do you not care that he now knows at least something of what has gone on between us? What must he think of me?" Here she coloured deeply at her own admission of the immorality of their arrangement.
"I had not thought of it," Darcy finally responded frankly, after wrestling with her question for a moment, before lifting his chin and regaining his composure.
"I am not in the habit of courting the good opinion of my servants."
"Or of anyone," she muttered under her breath.
"Even allowing that your valet is discreet, anyone could have seen you in the corridor- and Jane has a habit of coming to my room at night. What would she say if she saw you here? I think it is best that you return to your room and we not meet, other than at the arranged time." Her tone made it clear that he was dismissed from her presence.
Elizabeth moved to the door and grasped the handle waiting for him to leave, silently urging him to do so with a stern glare. Darcy had never felt so chastised in all his adult life. Her firm voice cut through him and it was all he could do not to hang his head as he walked to the door.
"Well… Good night," was all the farewell he bid her as she opened it warily and checked that the corridor was empty. He did not wait for her to respond before leaving, and she would not have answered him if he had, so irritated was she.
Their meeting the next day was fraught with apprehension for both as the negative feelings of both had fermented overnight- shame in his case and anger in hers. Darcy knew not what would have happened had Elizabeth not had the sense to dismiss him from her room. He feared what he would have said as much as what he might have done. He had been displeased with her at the time for rejecting him, but, on reflection, saw it as proof of her wisdom and integrity. However, last night had been a warning for Darcy. He had fooled himself into believing that he could have his cake and eat it too- that he could become involved with Miss Bennet (for Miss Bennet she must be from now on, never Elizabeth), and remain unaffected by her charms. He had spent the night contemplating the gradual degradation in his behaviour, which he had hardly noticed at the time. How could he have gone from the sombre decorum on which he had prided himself to the lecherous beast he had recently become? The fact that he could not stop himself from importuning Miss Bennet last night alarmed him and he knew that it would only get worse.
When she entered, Darcy could see that she was as uncomfortable as he and Elizabeth knew by his thunderous expression that the matter was not at an end.
"I hope you slept well," he spoke stridently.
When she replied that she had, he continued, determined to settle the matter quickly.
"You seem, in general, to be in much better spirits of late."
"Yes. In general, I am. For that I thank you… for your efforts." It pained her to say it, but she felt that she had to for the sake of civility, though neither was gratified by it.
"It almost seems as if… as if this," here Mr. Darcy gestured to the wing backed chair and stool, obviously referring to what they represented, "is no longer required."
Now Elizabeth understood what he was about and her stomach dropped. Not only would there be trouble today, he was revoking his support altogether because she had had the audacity to defy him. Part of Elizabeth had been expecting this: he had always insisted that this be on his terms and now that she had demanded the slightest control- over what happened in her own bedroom- he had withdrawn. Elizabeth felt her heartrate increase as she thought of the desperate nights she had spent. She dreaded returning to that state. There was another fear too, but she would not acknowledge it. Unbidden thoughts entered her head: thoughts that surged out of the deep and startled her as if inserted into her mind by another; thoughts such as, 'He prefers Jane to you.'
Striving for complacency, Elizabeth replied, "You may be right. If you wish to discontinue our arrangement, that, of course, is your choice."
"I have been corresponding with my solicitor on a matter that has turned out to be more complicated than I at first thought. I believe that I will need to address the difficulty in person. I hesitate to terminate our arrangement on such short notice, but given your admission that it is no longer needed, I will ask your leave to do just that."
Elizabeth had never heard such a self-serving, cold speech cloaked in such courteous language. She had no choice but to assent, however, and Darcy jumped at the opportunity to be rid of her.
"I will be leaving tomorrow for a short sojourn in London to settle the matter."
"How short?" She could hear the anxiety in her own voice and hated herself for it.
A smile played across Darcy's lips as he said, "I am not sure. I may have to extend my trip, depending on how the situation concludes."
He hated to lie to her, but it was for the best. It would not be a short sojourn. He would not be coming back and he would never see Eliz… Miss Bennet again. He could not afford to.
Darcy knew that he shouldn't, but the manner in which she had asked about his return had melted his lingering offence of the night before and he wanted to bask in her regard. He did not wish to leave her yet and in an attempt to extend their conversation he remarked:
"Bingley will join me in London."
This information affected her almost as much as news of his own impending removal had and he was perplexed by her reaction.
"Mr. Bingley will not be gone long, I trust?" Elizabeth asked.
"I cannot say. He is a capricious creature and he is liable to change his mind at the drop of a hat. It would not surprise me if her were to arrive in London and decide to stay till Christmas."
Elizabeth was, by now, distressed, though trying desperately to hide it.
"I had thought… Mr. Bingley seemed so attached to the area."
Darcy understood her implication perfectly. He too had witnessed Bingley's marked preference for Jane Bennet and, had he not been distracted by a Bennet sister of his own, he would have taken Bingley aside and warned him of the expectations he was liable to excite. Now he saw those expectations in the flesh and he felt he had a duty to, through her sister, put Jane Bennet on her guard.
"Bingley is young and still trying to find his way in the world. Taking this estate is just the first step on that road. I do not expect him to settle here permanently, whatever he may say to the contrary."
Darcy hoped that she would take his meaning and leave it at that. The sooner he could turn the conversation to a more pleasant subject the better: this was not how he wanted his final moments alone with her to be spent.
"But what about Jane," whispered Elizabeth?
Darcy belatedly recognised her dismay and realised that it was entirely consistent with her loving character and warm relationship with her sister to take any offence to that lady to heart. He continued more carefully.
"Miss Bennet, I hope your sister is not under the misapprehension… Might I ask- what exactly is the nature of her acquaintance with Bingley?"
"Mr. Bingley has not told you?"
"He would not break any confidence he had with your sister."
After a few moments' thought, Elizabeth replied, "I am not aware that an understanding exists between my sister and your friend. Nevertheless, anyone can see the attentions he pays to her. Are you telling me that he has no serious intentions towards her?"
"Given all I know of Bingley, I do not believe that he will marry your sister: he has fancied himself in love many times in the past with much more eligible ladies."
"And just what do you mean by that?"
Darcy was growing impatient with this topic and answered quickly, without thought to the tactlessness of his words. "Miss Bennet, I do not wish to insult you or your sister, but you must see that, given your family's financial position, not to mention your sister's dubious connections, it would be a very advantageous marriage indeed for her- more so than she could ordinarily aspire to. You cannot be surprised by these obstacles to the match and their possible influence on Bingley."
"Your family's situation is well known in Meryton- you must have given some thought to its impact on your own prospects."
Darcy's face was bright red by the end of this speech. Elizabeth was too shocked by its implications for Jane to take notice of his highly improper discussion of her own marriageability.
"Dubious connections? I suppose you mean our uncles in trade." She was barely able to keep her temper, but would ensure she got the answers she wanted before making any riposte to Darcy's assertions.
"Yes, that is part of it. Bingley's family has so recently risen from trade themselves, that it would be a significant regression for them to be reconnected to such a sphere. But that is not the only connection to which I refer."
Darcy almost wished that he had not said the last, but could not stop himself. He hoped that she would not question him further.
"To which other connection do you refer?" Her voice was icy and he knew before he had even answered that he would offend her, but would not divert from the truth.
"I refer to her connection to your own immediate family whose conduct is so indecorous. Perhaps you have become inured to their behaviour, but I, for one, was outraged when I first witnessed their antics at the assembly in Meryton. Your mother was airing her ambitions towards myself and Bingley, so that half the room could hear and your younger sisters were scandalous in their conduct."
He was really warming to the subject now; it reassured him of his own beliefs and bolstered his decision to leave.
"At every other gathering where I have observed them, I have cringed at the lack of propriety almost universally displayed by your family. Even your father-"
"Do not mention my father!"
Elizabeth was visibly shaking now as she cut Darcy's diatribe short. He had been in full flow and had not thought to temper his censure of her late father.
In clipped tones she concluded, "I will thank you not to criticize a dead man. I asked your meaning and you have shared it with me. I now more clearly understand Mr. Bingley's character and motivations and will advise my sister accordingly."
There was no point, Elizabeth realised, in quarrelling with Darcy: there would be no talking him out of his opinions and she had suddenly lost her usual zeal for an argument with him. He was clearly not in favour of the match and she knew that he would do all he could to prevent it. She felt all the futility of Jane's aspiring to a marriage so unanimously opposed on the gentleman's side. She had never before disliked Mr. Bingley's easy nature, but now considered how disadvantageous it was. If Darcy's claims of his inconsistency were correct, she would not wish for the match to take place in any case, even to spare her sister heartache in the short term.
Elizabeth turned away stiffly, took the well-worn path through the furniture and walked out the door with not so much as a backward glance at Mr. Darcy. He remained in the room, affected more than he liked by their parting, but excused it as being due to the hostility of her final words and not his heart's crying out that he was making a terrible mistake.
(1) Darcy and Elizabeth both refer in this chapter to a debate that they had on poetry (unseen). Elizabeth favours William Blake, who was a Romantic poet of the time. The Romantics celebrated instinct, intuition and spontaneity and his contemporaries (and Darcy, here) criticised Blake for his idiosyncratic views and belief in mysticism and the primacy of sentiment in poetry. His poem Milton was published around this time.
(2) Darcy prefers the poets of the Age of Enlightenment (the dawn of modern science), The New Augustans who thrived on scepticism, decorum and intellectual control. He cites Alexander Pope and his poem 'An Essay on Criticism' as an example. Elizabeth hadn't read it and Darcy recommended it to her.
. /2010/06/poetry_the_enlightenment_and_
wiki/William_Blake#Development_of_Blake.27s_views
(3)The Vision of Don Roderick by Sir Walter Scott was published in this year (1811). It celebrated the recent victories of the Duke of Wellington during the Peninsular War, and proceeds of its sale were to raise funds for Portugal. It is my own supposition that Colonel Fitzwilliam would have been involved in the war.
wiki/The_Vision_of_Don_Roderick
