Recap: Due to an epidemic of scarlet fever, which kills Mr. Bennet and Mary, the oldest Bennet daughters' stay at Netherfield is extended. Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy strike up a cold and dysfunctional tactile relationship, before he leaves suddenly for London, frightened by the strength of his feelings for her. After reconnecting with Mr. Darcy at Rosings, Elizabeth becomes alarmed by his attentions. He finally confronts her when she is alone at the parsonage and proposes. He is disbelieving of her refusal. Their argument soon develops into a passionate, but angry kiss and they have intercourse for the first time in Elizabeth's bedroom. During the act, Kitty and Mr. Collins come home and Darcy must hastily hide under the bed from Kitty. He there hears the ladies disparaging him and he and Elizabeth argue again once Kitty leaves. They fight over Wickham and Darcy's involvement in Bingley leaving Netherfield. Darcy accuses Elizabeth of using him to satisfy her baser urges and she begins to feel sorry for this. Her attempt at apology, however, devolves into another kiss. Darcy refuses to continue until he can clarify her feelings for him. She is blunt in her dislike of his haughty behaviour and he leaves declaring he will never see her again. He has Colonel Fitzwilliam deliver a letter to her the next day in which he explains his involvement with Wickham and Bingley. The pair leaves the next day and Elizabeth leaves Kent a fortnight later.
Chapter 16
Elizabeth collected Jane from Gracechurch Street, much to the annoyance of their mother who would have her remain. Jane, however, was firm in her determination to leave London, and Elizabeth soon learned why: she had seen nothing of Mr. Bingley and just enough of his sisters to know that her hopes of encountering him there were pointless. She now wanted to leave the site of her humiliation as soon as may be.
Mrs. Bennet, having heard of the improvement in Kitty's circumstances was delighted that her scheme had worked out so well and, after only a few indiscreet queries, was soon content to give up the topic.
Jane's first few days back at Longbourn were marked by her disinterest in anything other than moping over her needlework, or mooning at the window seat. This she did to the constant refrain of Mrs. Bennet's dirges, lamenting the escape of Mr. Bingley (whose loss she evidently felt much more than that of her own late husband; though he too was often mentioned as being to blame- somehow- for Bingley's perfidy). Jane clearly suffered under her mother's affectionate succour, but Elizabeth felt that there was a certain satisfaction to be had in the whole family sharing the weight of her disappointment- one that Jane did not entirely appreciate.
She was only now coming out of the fog of Mr. Darcy's propinquity and knew no better how to feel about her sojourn in the shadow of Rosings Park. Her mind was constantly whirring, spinning out of control: the same debates raged on; bubbled so close to the surface that she had to stop herself from crying out in the middle of the drawing room against the injustice of her alter ego's accusations.
She despised Mr. Darcy and herself intermittently and in equal measure. At other times, she blamed third parties, happy not to have to consider either of their actions at all: she blamed Kitty for marrying- for bringing her to Hunsford, Lady Catherine for her condescension, which put her into Mr. Darcy's path once again, and Mr. Collins for existing at all. Even the most innocent of participants did not escape her censure, Bingley and Jane, among the casualties.
Her insomnia returned; had begun even at Hunsford, in those last days when she was forced to spend interminable hours regarding the same four walls within which Mr. Darcy had occupied her and left her (1). Jane was not in a sufficiently attentive frame of mind to notice Elizabeth's distress- compassionate as she generally was- and this manifestation of her sister's suffering was the final push for Elizabeth to do what she had never thought possible or advisable. She would confide in Jane, as much to distract her sister as for her own comfort.
This was not achieved immediately on her having the notion. She awaited the opportunity for an uninterrupted interview with her sister, one in which any outbursts of shock would go unwitnessed, and this did not come for several days. Lydia and Mrs. Bennet being absented on some business or other that would take several hours, Elizabeth convened with her sister in their bedroom. She slowly and painfully, not to mention disjointedly, told Jane of the entire affair between her and Mr. Darcy. She omitted only the most sordid details for the sake of her sister's modesty and suppressed every particular in which Jane was concerned. She was furious. Jane did not rant or scream, but her silence was thunderous and she did not speak to Elizabeth for the rest of the day.
Seated on the over-sized swing in a shaded area of the park, Elizabeth lazily propelled herself back and forth; her hands grasping the ropes, her only defence from falling as she dangled supine, studying the canopy above. They were, luckily, experiencing an uncharacteristically warm spell just now, which allowed Elizabeth to spend much of her time out of doors without suspicion. She was rapt in observation of the sunlight, twinkling as it penetrated the foliage in different patterns with every sway, when a quiet greeting nearly toppled her off the swing.
Mr. Wickham was standing in front of her. Mr. Wickham. He, oddly, had hardly figured in her thoughts since she had accepted Mr. Darcy's account of their acquaintance. This had happened soon after reading his letter, painful though it was. She could not initially believe a man so charming could commit this villainy against a girl little more than a child. And yet, it fitted. The account made sense and fond as she had become of the gentleman, she knew full well the dazzling effect of his charm and could not convince herself that any brother would implicate his young sister in such a scandal just to spite his former friend. No, she knew it to be true; and with this certainty, Mr. Wickham's treachery had dismissed him from her mind.
He was now eager to return to their former intimacy. She cared not if she ever spoke to him again. Mr. Wickham's presence now only brought Elizabeth shame at her lack of perspicacity.
"I must confess I am eager to hear your impressions of Rosings Park," he continued, after their initial greeting.
"It is very grand, though whether it could be described as elegant is another matter." Elizabeth answered dully, still deciding how to receive him.
"Much like the lady in residence, if I recall," Wickham replied jocularly. The anticipated warm response was not forthcoming and he was thrown off of his stride by the cold manner he now perceived in Elizabeth. She relished the resulting bewilderment on his face. She would love to work up her swing until she could boot him in the face and unconvincingly claim it as an accident.
Mr. Wickham, unused to ladies' derision decided to change tack and revert to the topic he had always found fruitful with Elizabeth.
"And her nephew, did he make himself agreeable?" He realised too late from her expression that desperation had made him reckless in bringing up the topic of Darcy so quickly and so bluntly, and he fancied, even without knowing the prior source of her knowledge, that Miss Elizabeth could see right through him.
"Mr. Darcy was there," she replied with more distinct hauteur. "But you know he does not often exert himself to please others."
"With a prior acquaintance, one with whom he spent weeks living in close proximity- in the same house- and a lady now recognised by his own aunt; I cannot believe Darcy would not in some way acknowledge you. I think also, you underestimate your appeal as a woman to any gentleman. You should be wary of being in such frequent company with Mr. Darcy."
Elizabeth was shocked at his words, even given what she now knew about him.
"Mr. Wickham, you forget yourself. At what point did I give you leave to address me in such a familiar manner? We do not share an intimacy as might warrant this interest in my affairs, and your spurious insinuations are as dangerous as they are insulting."
Wickham could see that he had relied too heavily on their former camaraderie, that something was wrong here, and retreated to what he always did when a woman was becoming difficult- turning on the charm: "Miss Elizabeth, I apologise if I have been overly familiar. But I am very familiar with Mr. Darcy's proclivities. You should take care in his presence."
"Well you would know more about the appetites of reprobates than I, Mr. Wickham." Elizabeth implied.
"I meant no harm, Miss Bennet. I only speak for your benefit."
"Since I have met you, sir, you have shown an unnatural interest in my acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. I don't know why you do so, but I am certain that it is not for my benefit."
Elizabeth rose from the swing with dignity; she was becoming an expert at setting down men. Mr. Wickham felt he must offer her his arm in returning to the house, just as Elizabeth felt she must take it, but on reaching the vestibule, neither could leave the other fast enough.
Elizabeth's fury at Wickham had the unexpected effect of distracting her from her quarrel with Jane. That is, until she stormed up to her room and found her sister there. She had just turned to leave when Jane called to her- the first time she had approached her in days.
"No, wait. Don't go, Lizzy."
Jane patted the bed beside her and Elizabeth obliged her in taking a seat, oddly nervous to speak to her sister- not a feeling she would ever have associated with that happy room. She could not bring herself to levity as she might ordinarily have done, or even to speak first.
"Lizzy, I have wanted to speak to you about... well, you are well aware." Elizabeth did not reply other than to school her face to be as approachable as she could.
"I have been trying to understand, to comprehend what would make both you and Mr. Darcy act so contrary to both of your characters, I believe." Still Elizabeth could not speak. What could she say to justify her lasciviousness?
"You have always had a more inquisitive, adventurous personality, which goes some way to account for your actions, perhaps." Jane paused in an effort to encourage her sister's confidence.
Finally, Elizabeth compelled herself to speak, not sure even as she began what she could add. "I don't know what to say to you, Jane. I know that I have done wrong, but I can't lie to you. I have not been crushed by my guilt and, if the circumstances had been different- if Mr. Darcy and I had continued in close proximity and had he been willing- I may have continued our activities even yet."
Jane closed her eyes tightly at hearing such wickedness. "I cannot believe that you felt no remorse or ill-feeling whatsoever over your actions. You think that you have gone undetected, but I have noticed your withdrawal these past months. I simply credited it to Papa's passing away, but now I know better. Whatever you say about your actions, I know this has been weighing on your mind."
"And Lizzy, please tell me. I know you have said that you were a willing participant in your meetings, but I must ask: did Mr. Darcy prey upon you, or force you into this arrangement in any way?"
Elizabeth could see the dread in her sister's eyes. "The first time it happened was at his behest and against my wishes," Elizabeth began slowly, trying to sort it out in her mind. "That is to say, I hardly knew what was going on and then… I would say that he took advantage of my innocence on the subject."
This troubled Jane and she took a moment to consider what it meant for her opinion of Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth knew that it was important to her that Mr. Darcy not be lowered in her estimation- that her initial impression of his fundamental goodness be allowed to stand.
"I am very grieved to hear this; but you would suggest that he acted purely for his own gain. Did you not say that after that first time, he was reluctant to continue, that you tried to persuade him and he sent you away. This suggests that he regretted his actions then. When did he relent?"
"I believe it was after I fainted at Netherfield." Elizabeth replied.
"And did he force himself on you then?"
"No, not at all."
"You say he took advantage of you, but I don't think that that's entirely true, at least not at that time. He was misguided and certainly deluding himself about his own motives, but I think there was a part of him that wanted to help you. And clearly he is attracted to you. He is so reserved- perhaps he did not feel that he could connect with you in any other way."
That incident in the library at Netherfield seemed an age ago and time had lessened her shock and outrage over it. "I will admit that Mr. Darcy was not liable for the entire affair- I must be responsible for my own actions. I not only submitted to his attentions, but I even sought out and enjoyed them. We were equally accountable. I did continue the meetings when he would have ended it and ultimately it was he that put a stop to it, when he realised that my intentions were not honourable." Her lips curled at her own joke, but Jane did not smile.
"I wish you would not jest, Lizzy. Can you not see that you have treated him most cruelly and done yourself a disservice? You knew his feelings and yet you sought to continue your dalliance for personal pleasure, knowing the effect you had on him."
"Mr. Darcy has done wrong, very wrong" Jane reiterated, "but I pity him. He felt that you were developing an understanding and I don't think it was unreasonable that he expected you would accept a proposal: that you loved him. Consider how much it must increase his disappointment."
"How can you say that, Jane? I had never kissed him, or seen any affection- I had not even had an agreeable conversation with him before his proposal. As for my knowing he was in love with me, I am not convinced even yet, despite his claims.
"We spent most of our time bickering or in sullen silence. And besides, he had made his opinions on my marriageability quite clear. He has called me the most awful names at different times. You do not know him as I do and he is not the man you think him to be."
"I do not. I only know how kind he was while we were staying at Netherfield and it seems clear to me that he has feelings for you: he did ultimately propose to you. Do you think he would wish to marry a woman for whom he had no regard or respect? And he did wish to marry you- there was no other reason to compel him to propose after so long. That must be to his advantage. He did not seek to pressure you into becoming his mistress, as many men would. Much of his conduct may be explained by his natural shyness and by his fighting his feelings for you, which he himself posited as a reason for his behaviour."
"Indeed, I am heartily sorry for him," Elizabeth said, in attempted levity, "but he has other feelings which will soon drive away his regard for me."
"Lizzy," Jane admonished, "Did you never wonder why he acted as he did? Why he began your affair in the first place and sought to resume it in Hunsford?"
"I suppose I did, in passing, but I never wished to dwell on the matter. I always considered that he must get some perverse sense of satisfaction for being able to affect me in that way; and he certainly enjoyed lording it over me in coded remarks made in company. Perhaps it was just boredom."
"But there was once- we met in the woods and he was … elated. I did suspect that he was moved by the act, but that's still a long way from love. In truth, I had never cared to find out. I had known his feelings about our whole family and did not think he could love me in spite of all these objections."
"But he did."
After speaking with Jane, nothing material had changed. She still doubted Mr. Darcy's feelings, questioned her own, and condemned both of their behaviour. However, just the unburdening of her story had likewise lightened Elizabeth's heart. She realised that she had been blaming Mr. Darcy for losing her friendship with Jane, though it was her own choice to estrange herself from her family.
When she thought of Darcy's words mentioning her family, her sense of shame was severe. His criticisms were made in terms of such mortifying, albeit merited, reproach that she had of course revolted against his assessment when he had first expressed it some months ago. Somehow, it was all the more wretched in writing- when it was her and not Jane implicated in their shame. When she now had cause to rethink all that she had believed about Mr. Darcy, the justice of his charge struck her too forcibly for denial any longer. She thought back to circumstances witnessed by Darcy and shuddered.
The compliment to herself was not unfelt. His offering for her despite her family's indignity soothed, but could not console her for the contempt which they had rightly attracted.
That night as they lay in bed, candles snuffed and blankets tucked up around their chins, Jane spoke out.
"Lizzy, is there no hope that you and Mr. Darcy could reconcile?" she asked meekly.
"Oh, Jane. There is nothing to reconcile… You do not blame me for refusing him?"
"Blame you! Oh no. Do anything other than marry without love."
"But you do blame me for engaging his affections and refusing him so cruelly. And do you fault me for speaking so warmly of Mr. Wickham?"
"No, indeed. How could you have known he was so very bad?"
"Jane, tell me, what makes Mr. Wickham so very different from Mr. Darcy: they both seduced innocent young women."
"I know. And yet, they are different. Both did wrong, but Mr. Darcy has no guile. His actions were selfish and foolish, but he did not promise you anything he was not willing to give and he did do the right thing in the end. He was not mercenary, as Mr. Wickham apparently is, and he tried to help you, as well as satisfy his own desires. He did not seek to ruin you."
Elizabeth felt incapable of discussing Mr. Darcy's relative virtues in earnest. "You make him out to be the model of a gentleman!"
"No, Lizzy. Though I do believe that Mr. Darcy wishes to do what's right."
"Yes, I agree with you there. Whatever else I believe about the man, he clearly does wish to do right."
Just when Elizabeth thought that Jane had fallen asleep, she spoke again without preamble. "Could you, in time, find another man, a nice man to marry? Are you truly ruined?" She was almost whispering at this point.
"Utterly and irrevocably," was her sister's quiet response
in the dark.
(1) To occupy a woman: sexual intercourse: wwdotjoannawaughdotcom/cant-dothtml
