‘–for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister.’
Unexampled kindness? Then she does not hate me!
The thought made my spirits rise, though cautiously, for
I did not know what she had heard of the business, or
what else she was going to say.
‘Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious
to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it
known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely
my own gratitude to express.’
Gratitude. I did not want her gratitude. Liking, yes.
Loving, yes. But not gratitude.
‘I am sorry,’ I said, ‘exceedingly sorry, that you have
ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light,
have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs Gardiner
was so little to be trusted.’
‘You must not blame my aunt,’ she said.‘It was Lydia
who told me of it, and then I asked my aunt for greater
detail. Let me thank you again and again,’ went on
Elizabeth, ‘in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much
trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake
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of discovering them.’
Generous compassion. She thought well of me, but in
what way? I was in an agony of suspense.
‘If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone,’ I
said. My voice was low and impassioned. I could not
hold my feelings in.‘Your family owe me nothing. Much
as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you.’
I stopped breathing. I had spoken. I had let out my
feelings. I had offered them to her, and could only wait
to see if she would fling them back in my face. But she
said nothing. Why did she not speak? Was she shocked?
Horrified? Pleased? Then hope rose in my breast. Perhaps
she was kept silent by pleasure? I had to know.
‘You are too generous to trifle with me,’ I burst out.
‘If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me
so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged. But
one word from you will silence me on this subject for
ever.’
It seemed to be an age before she spoke.
‘My feelings are so different…’ she began.
I started to breathe again.
‘…that I am humbled to think you can still love me…’
I began to smile.
‘…now I receive your assurances with gratitude
and…and pleasure…’
‘I have loved you for so long,’ I said, as she slipped her
hand through my arm and I covered it with my own.To
claim her was a joy. ‘I thought it was hopeless. I tried to
forget you, but to no avail.When I saw you again at Pem-mr darcy_internals 1/30/07 4:06 PM Page 275
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berley I was overcome with surprise, but quickly blessed
my good fortune. I had a chance to show you that I was
not as mean-spirited as you thought me. I had a chance
to show you that I could be a gentleman.When you did
not spurn me, when you accepted my invitation, I dared
to hope, but your sister’s troubles took you away from me
and I saw you no more. I could not let matters rest. I had
to help your sister, in the knowledge that by doing so I
was helping you. Then, when she was safely married, I
had to see you. I was as nervous as Bingley when we
arrived at Longbourn. It was clear that your sister was a
woman in love, but I could tell nothing from your face
or manner. Did you love me? Did you like me? Could
you even tolerate me? I thought yes, then I thought no.
You said so little – ’
‘Which was not in my nature,’ she said with an arch
smile.
‘No,’ I said, returning the smile. ‘It was not. I did not
know whether it was because you were displeased to see
me or merely embarrassed.’
‘I was embarrassed,’ she said.‘I did not know why you
had come. I was afraid of showing too much. I did not
want to expose myself to ridicule. I could not believe
that a man of your pride would offer his hand when it
had already been rejected.’
‘His hand, no, but his heart, yes. You are the only
woman I have ever wanted to marry, and by accepting
my hand you have put me forever in your debt.’
‘I will remind you of it, when you are cross with me,’
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she said teasingly.
‘I could never be cross with you.’
‘You think not, but when I pollute the shades of Pemberley, it is possible that you might!’
I laughed.‘Ah yes, my aunt expressed herself forcefully
to both of us.’
‘She told me I would never live at Pemberley,’ said
Elizabeth.
‘I ought to dislike her for it, but I am too much in
charity with her. It is her visit that brought me to you.’
‘She came to see you?’
‘She did. In London. She was in high dudgeon. She told
me that she had been to see you, and that she had
demanded that you contradict the rumour of our impending marriage.Your refusal to fall in with her wishes put her
sadly out of countenance but it taught me to hope.’
I spoke of my letter. ‘Did it,’ I said, ‘did it soon make
you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any
credit to its contents?’
‘It made me think so much better of you, and so
immediately, that I felt heartily ashamed of myself. I read
it through again, and then again, and as I did so, every
one of my prejudices was removed.’
‘I knew that what I wrote must give you pain, but it
was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter.’
‘The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it
essential to the preservation of my regard; but, though we
have both reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as
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that implies.’
‘When I wrote
