Darcy’s jaw tightened and his brows pinched tightly together. “The conjecture last night was based on what type of offer I would have made to you that would have been so disgusting to you.”
Elizabeth’s heart quickened as he spoke. She wished to hear, and yet at the same time did not want to hear, what it was they believed.
Darcy’s voice softened. “Someone thought they saw you in the private hall to my chambers yesterday. That led to the consensus that I… that I made a most dishonourable request of you.”
Elizabeth stomped her foot and spun around, bringing her arms up and folding them in front of her. Her eyes filled with tears and she could not prevent one from spilling down her face. She took in a shaky breath. “I am so sorry, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy looked down, wishing to console her but knowing the Ketterlings were likely watching them through the window. “Miss Bennet, I want you to be assured that you have come through this shining like a star, for according to this letter, you were disgusted by my offer.”
“I am so sorry, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth could not imagine he was pleased with these rumours. “What about your friends and cousin? What about your sister?” Elizabeth wondered with true concern that those who truly cared for him would not be under the wrong impression.
“I had an obligation to confide in them the reason for the letter. Besides, Hamilton would not leave it. He pressed me unremittingly to justify my actions.”
“I am so sorry,” Elizabeth could think of nothing else to say.
“My good cousin is getting quite a laugh about it, particularly when he recollected his comments the day of the picnic.”
Elizabeth looked up at him with appreciation. He was not angry at her; he seemed to not even be angry at the rumours that were swirling about.
She suddenly thought of Rosalyn, and wondered if there was anything to the conjectures about his feelings of regard for her. “I am quite certain,” she began, “that you will be able to explain the letter and its contents to Miss Matthews and all will be well with her. She will certainly forgive you.”
His eyes narrowed and he expelled a short breath. “Miss Matthews? What is she to me?”
Elizabeth looked nervously down at her hands, which she rubbed briskly together. “I was under the impression, in fact several have been under the impression, that the invitation to Pemberley was to further your acquaintance with her.”
Darcy’s head dropped and he let out a long breath. He was silent for a moment before saying to her, “No, Miss Bennet. If that has been what everyone believed, I have been a fool. It was all for…”
“Mr. Darcy, please!” Elizabeth stopped him. “There is something I must tell you.”
She could not bear to have him express any admiration for her, if that was what he was about to do, and then withdraw it once he heard about Wickham.
“What is it?” he asked.
Elizabeth clasped her hands together and looked down at them as she proceeded. “You said you knew about the contents of the letter I received from Jane, that my youngest sister Lydia has run off with an officer?”
He nodded. “That is precisely what I was told.”
“You know my sister, Mr. Darcy. She may have no qualms about not marrying, and if she does not, it will bring disgrace to my family.”
“We cannot be sure of that yet.”
“No,” Elizabeth answered, turning her head and looking off into the distance. “But there are particulars about this whole situation with which you are not acquainted.” She turned back and looked at him, tears now freely falling down her face. “The officer she ran off with is… is George Wickham.”
Elizabeth saw it immediately. His countenance was altered as his eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in anger. She saw in him the recognition of all the consequences of her sister’s actions. She saw the calculations in his mind as he battled what he now knew with what he possibly felt. She saw the resignation and the determined set of his jaw when he had made his decision.
He looked down at her. She saw him swallow and take a few short breaths. “This is grave, indeed,” he said slowly. “This alters everything.”
Darcy quickly bowed, his eyes searching Elizabeth’s face. “I must go. I will keep you no longer.”
He walked to his horse, adeptly bringing himself up onto the saddle. He turned and looked at her one last time, his eyes dark with anger, his breathing ragged. “I will send my carriage and maidservant for you once I know the route to London is safe. Good day, Miss Bennet. May God be with you.” He then gave the horse a few short kicks, bringing it to a gallop as he rode off down the street.
Elizabeth’s eyes blurred with tears as she watched him disappear around a corner, prompting her to release a sob of anguish. She realized she may never see him again.
Elizabeth stood gravely still, unable to move. Mr. Darcy was gone. She could no longer see him, no longer hear the sound of the galloping horse’s hooves. The picture of him as the anger spread across his features would remain with her forever.
She fisted her hands and breathed in deeply. Presently she felt unequal to the task of putting on a smiling face for the Ketterlings, pretending that she was grateful to Mr. Darcy for his generous offer as she listened to their continued words of praise for the man. It would only cause her heart to ache even more.
She finally turned and walked slowly to the house. The window coverings moved slightly, confirming her suspicion that her hosts had observed her interaction with Mr. Darcy. She hoped if they detected either hers or Mr. Darcy’s discomfiture, their good manners would prevent them from speaking about it.
Elizabeth was grateful that they appeared oblivious to her distress. After only minimal discourse, Mr. Ketterling excused himself to cancel her journey on the carriage for hire. Elizabeth and Mrs. Ketterling returned to the sitting room, just as they had been prior to Mr. Darcy’s unexpected arrival. Mrs. Ketterling picked up her needlework, and Elizabeth opened her book. Mrs. Ketterling appeared to make steady progress on her stitches, whereas Elizabeth could barely grasp a single word on the page in front of her. Her mind was in turmoil; her eyes continually filled with tears.
It was two very long days before Elizabeth heard anything from Pemberley concerning her journey to London. While the Ketterlings ensured her comfort as much as possible, Elizabeth was eager to leave. At times she wished she had taken the hired carriage, but knew her hosts would protest, as Mr. Darcy’s offer had been so much more superior. Their praise for Mr. Darcy’s prodigious care for her was profuse.
It was in the late afternoon that a message arrived from Pemberley. Elizabeth eagerly opened it, hoping she could now travel to London.
The note was brief and to the point. As her eyes perused the missive written in Mr. Darcy’s very meticulous handwriting, her thoughts went back to the
That evening, once her things were packed, save for what she would need in the morning, she sat down upon
