Chapter Sixteen: Encounters in Kent
AN: Oh, my, the Hunsford proposal is looming ahead. My stomach is churning.
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The weeks following Mr. Collins' proposal and the departure of the Netherfield party weighed heavily on the Bennet household. A strange quiet had settled over Longbourn, broken only by Mrs. Bennet's occasional outbursts of frustration towards their sudden departure. Jane remained somehow composed, but Elizabeth knew that her heart was aching.
To make things even worse, Jane had decided to go to London to stay with the Gardiners – their aunt and uncle. She would call on Miss Bingley and see if she can meet Mr. Bingley again. She confided to Elizabeth that she loved him, and that she was not ready to give up hope. Elizabeth wished her luck on her endeavor, although she was despondent that Jane was leaving, when her presence soothed her above all else.
As for Elizabeth herself, she found her thoughts divided. She mostly kept to her room. She no longer wanted to go to her newly discovered refuge on Oakham Mount, as it reminded her of that dreadful morning when Mr. Collins proposed. The rejection of Mr. Collins, the argument she had with Mrs. Bennet, Jane's broken heart, left her unsettled. She was mortified by what she said to Mrs. Bennet. She was even more mortified because she could not discern towards whom her anger was aimed: Mrs. Bennet who acted like any 19th century mother would, or her real mother who actually abandoned her to an orphanage in New York without a second thought. Thus, what was actually gnawing at her were doubts regarding her own identity.
Elizabeth was adept at masking her inner turmoil, but she knew that she could not hide forever. She knew that she needed to distance herself for a while to contemplate upon her feelings; a retreat from the present turmoil was essential, to allow her the space to reflect upon her heart and her identity.
That is when a letter with an invitation to Kent arrived. Elizabeth broke the seal and read.
Dearest Elizabeth
I hope that you will read my words with the understanding and friendship that we have long shared. I must first thank you for being there for me and my family during my hasty marriage to Mr. Collins. However, I find myself in need to provide an explanation I did not have sufficient time to give you before during the wedding preparations.
I am not romantic, Lizzy. I have never expected marriage to be the source of perfect happiness, and at my age, I cannot afford to be so particular as to wait for such an ideal. My situation is, as you can appreciate, not one of wealth or beauty that might attract more agreeable offers. Mr. Collins, for all his faults, offers me security and a respectable home. In accepting him, I ensured my place in the world and relieved my family of doubts regarding my future. I am content with this arrangement, and I hope that in time, you will understand that I have done what I believe to be right for myself.
Now that I am mistress of my own house, it would mean so much to me, dear Lizzy, if you could visit me in Kent. I often reminisce about the friendship and the strong bond we shared growing up as neighbors and friends. It weighs heavily on my heart that you find it hard to remember these sweet moments, even if you showed me nothing but kindness and care after your tragic incident. Hence, it would mean the world to me if we were to rekindle our childhood friendship within my home. The invitation is, of course, extended with all my heart, and I eagerly await the chance to show you that, though my life may have taken a different path than yours, I remain your ever faithful friend. I could only hope that you would find it within your heart to accept my humble invitation.
Please, do write to me and let me know your thoughts. I value them more than I can say.
Yours forever,
Charlotte Collins
The carriage ride to Kent had been long. Elizabeth was not entirely sure why she had agreed to visit Charlotte, especially knowing that Mr. Collins would be there, but something about the journey had felt necessary - like an unspoken calling, a step toward something she could not yet define. Perhaps it was the desire to escape Longbourn, and to see more of the world she had found herself in. Or perhaps, deep down, she knew that she needed to have moments to reflect upon her relationship with the Bennet family, away from Longbourn.
The carriage came to a stop in front of the parsonage, and Charlotte rushed out to greet her, a warm smile on her face. "Lizzy! You have arrived!" Charlotte exclaimed, embracing her friend. "I was beginning to worry that the journey had tired you out."
Charlotte led her inside, where the coziness of the parsonage was a welcome contrast to the imposing sight of the vast estate of Rosings in the distance. As they settled in, Mr. Collins appeared, beaming as though Elizabeth's arrival were a personal triumph. "Miss Elizabeth! Welcome to our humble home," he said, bowing with exaggerated politeness. "I trust you will find it comfortable here."
"I must thank you both for the invitation." Elizabeth said with a curt nod.
"Why, of course, we are both glad that you are here, dear cousin. I think that your stay with us will even improve further after this evening, as we are all invited to dine at Rosings. Lady Catherine herself penned the invitation. Great honor indeed!" Mr. Collins was nearly smirking with delight as he finished his statement. Unbeknown to him, that Elizabeth could not care less about his Lady or Rosings. Yet, she smiled politely, if not for him, then for Charlotte who was trying her best to be her friend.
Elizabeth replayed every episode she watched of Downton Abbey in her mind as they made their way into Rosings. She was trying to recall the proper etiquettes of addressing a Lady, even if she truly did not care about status or social standings. Yet, since she chose to be Elizabeth Bennet, the least she could do was to act like a gentleman's daughter.
The estate was truly formidable. However, she felt an air of coldness reflected in each corner. When the flurry of introductions was finished, Elizabeth understood the reason behind the cold atmosphere, as she contemplated its stern mistress – Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Her thoughts were interrupted when two gentlemen entered the drawing room. One was a tall man, quite handsome, and with an easy smile and manner that immediately put her at ease. The other was even taller, more strikingly handsome, and none other that Mr. Darcy.
"Mr. Darcy!" Exclaimed Elizabeth, as if she never would have expected to see him there.
The gentleman glanced nervously at her, then bowed. "Miss Elizabeth! I hope to find you in good health."
Elizabeth stood and curtsied. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I hope that you are doing well yourself. Although please forgive me for my earlier reaction when seeing you here. I thought that you were in town with Mr. Bingley!"
Lady Catherine observed the exchange with an unreadable expression. Then, she turned to Elizabeth. "Miss Bennet, do you know my nephew?"
"I do, Your Ladyship. I had the pleasure of meeting your nephew at Hertfordshire."
Lady Catherine merely nodded. "And do you know my other nephew?"
"I did not have that honor yet, Your Ladyship."
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat and gestured to the man next to him. "Miss Elizabeth, allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam."
Elizabeth curtsied and the colonel bowed. Then, the latter said. "Miss Bennet, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I have heard so much about you from my cousin."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I hope the reports were favorable."
The colonel's eyes twinkled with amusement, as Darcy cast him a nervous glance. But before either could reply, Lady Catherine interrupted them, her face devoid of any visible emotions. "Miss Bennet, I have heard so much about you myself. Although not from my nephew here, as I can assure you that he is quite the busy man to concern himself with recounting his encounters at Hertfordshire. I heard about you from Mr. Collins. I daresay Miss Bennet, I did not expect to see that you do retain your mental faculties after all. I was shocked when he told me that you refused his marriage proposal. I genuinely believed that your head injury was far greater than what your family reported."
Elizabeth was mortified. She turned a worrying glance towards Charlotte, who turned crimson with embarrassment. She felt a surge of anger bubbling beneath her skin. This Lady had no business embarrassing both of them like that. She remained silent for a while, thinking on how to respond best. But Lady Catherine did not even allow her that chance. She added, her tone even stricter. "Pray tell me, Miss Bennet, do you play the pianoforte? Or rather, do you remember how to play? I was counting on you entertaining us after dinner."
"Not at all, Your Ladyship. I do not remember how to play the pianoforte, and I am not sure whether I ever did. As for entertainment, I am sure that further discussions on the possible damage my mind had sustained can keep us all entertained." Elizabeth said with a faint smile.
Mr. Darcy felt the very ground trembling beneath him. He barely managed to stay seated and not collapse on the nearest chair when he heard that Mr. Collins had proposed to Elizabeth. As his aunt continued to speak, her voice fading into the background of his thoughts, Darcy felt a tightness form in his chest. His pulse quickened, a rush of heat surging through his chest. She had refused Mr. Collins. It was a revelation that struck him with both astonishment and an undeniable wave of relief.
For weeks now, he had tormented himself with the decision to distance himself from her, knowing full well that his family would never approve of the match. She had no fortune, no notable connections, and her unfortunate accident had left her memory fragile, casting a shadow of unsuitability over her in the eyes of society. And yet, despite every reason he had told himself to stay away, he had never been able to extinguish the fierce, helpless love he bore for her. As soon as he heard that she will visit Rosings, his body betrayed him, yet again, and he found himself in a carriage, with Rosings suddenly becoming the North Star to his compass. Well, not Rosings itself, but whatever location Elizabeth Bennet was in, to be more precise.
His heart had been chastising him mercilessly since he took the decision to leave Hertfordshire, thinking that he can survive being away from her. Yet, in that very instant, Darcy realized how perilously close he had come to losing her forever, and the thought nearly unmade him. How easily she might have accepted that fool Collins! Darcy turned towards the man with a death glare. How dare he propose to Elizabeth! How dare he even think of breathing the same air as she does!
Darcy knew that he had no right to be bitter towards the man. Yet, the idea that the kind, beautiful, and spirited Elizabeth could have bound herself to a man so wholly unworthy of her caused his chest to tighten painfully. He felt even more pain as he realized that he was unworthy of her himself. He was the man who never had the courage to divulge to her the contents of his heart. He was the man who left Hertfordshire merely few weeks ago, hoping to dismantle his feelings towards her. If she had accepted an offer of stability and security, especially given her vulnerable state, he would not be able to blame her. He would only blame himself for losing this gem of a woman to be someone else's wife.
Gratitude coursed through him, bitter yet sweet, for this lovely lady had proven once again how utterly formidable she was. In turning down that fool of a man, Darcy's admiration and respect towards her only grew stronger. But even in the flush of relief, he was reminded of the barrier he himself had erected. His love for Elizabeth had never dimmed, despite staying away from her for weeks.
He knew that he only did what he did to protect his family's honor, to maintain the status they so highly prized. Yet the knowledge that she had refused another stirred something within him, a feeling of dread that sooner or later she might accept someone else, mingled with a flicker of hope he had tried so hard to suppress that maybe he would be that very someone.
She was still unmarried for now, and it frightened him how much he wanted her, how much he longed to cast aside every objection and claim her for his own. But could he? Should he? The conflict raged in his heart, even as a small, steady voice whispered that perhaps, just perhaps, fate had given him another chance.
He turned to see his very cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam smiling with amusement as Elizabeth dauntlessly stood her ground against Lady Catherine.
