Her Voice of Reason Page 3

  ***

  “Your house is lovely, Charlotte,” Elizabeth assured as her friend was giving her the tour of the downstairs of the cottage. It consisted of quite a large drawing room, the staircase, dining room, and small study which belonged solely to Mr. Collins. The kitchen area was pushed to the back of the house, but even so Elizabeth could feel the smell of today’s dinner coming from there.

  “Oh, Elizabeth, you do not know what a pleasure it is to run my own house.”

  Elizabeth looked at her friend, at her smiling face and pride beaming from her eyes. Charlotte seemed taller and more mature than when Elizabeth had seen her the last time. “You are happy here, Charlotte,” she stated.

  “I am.”

  Elizabeth walked to the window to see Mr. Collins showing his roses to Sir William and Mariah.

  Charlotte joined her on the other side of the window. “I know what you are thinking, Lizzy, but Mr. Collins is not that horrible. We do not spend much time together, which suits me very well indeed.”

  “In your letters you wrote that he went to Rosings every day. Is it truly necessary?”

  “I encourage it. Lady Catherine welcomes his visits, and if he is not at Rosings, he is in his study, writing sermons, or working in the garden.”

  “Gardening is a very pleasant exercise.”

  “And very healthy,” Charlotte agreed.

  They sat down. Elizabeth kept looking around the small drawing room. “The house looks refreshed.”

  “Lady Catherine was kind enough to replace the wallpapers and carpets before my arrival.”

  “How kind of her.”

  Elizabeth looked out the window again. From what she had seen on her way here, Kent was indeed a beautiful county. Charlotte was right, saying that she would enjoy discovering the countryside. But how could she enjoy the beauty of nature in her present circumstances?

  “You are pale, Lizzy,” her friend observed.

  “It was quite a long journey,” Elizabeth said. The time was not right to confess her troubles to Charlotte. She was not even certain if she should share it with her friend in the first place.

  “Go to your room to rest. I will send you tea there.”

  “Will Sir William and Mr. Collins not find it rude?”

  “Oh no, Lizzy, I will explain to them that you are tired.”

  “Thank you, Charlotte.”

  ***

  Elizabeth dropped to the ground, exhausted by the too long walk. She settled under the tree with wide low branches which allowed for a pleasant shade. The day was quite warm for the middle of April. Despite the beauties of Kent, she could hardly think about anything else for the last four weeks but her return home.

  Charlotte was very kind to her, the same as Mr. Collins. Even Lady Catherine was attentive, at least in Mr. Collins’s estimation of his great patroness. Nevertheless, every moment of Elizabeth’s stay was haunted by thoughts of her father. Jane sent letters every other day, but it was not enough for Elizabeth. She wished to be at Longbourn at her father’s side. She smiled at the thought that only in three days’ time the manservant of her uncle would come to accompany her on her journey. They would travel by post to London, where she would spend a day or two with the Gardiners before going to Hertfordshire.

  Bending her legs, she brought them to her chest, putting her head sideways on her knees. Her eyes were closed, blocking the rich greenness of her surroundings. Yesterday, she had confessed her secret to Charlotte. Had she made a mistake by doing so? Her friend had not assured her that the Bennets would be treated kindly in the face of a possible tragedy. She had said nothing of the kind. She had told her the story of a relative of hers who miraculously had come to health when everyone thought that death was imminent and lived long years afterwards.

  Elizabeth was on the verge of regretting that she had accepted her friend’s invitation to come to Kent. Her impression was that she had worsened her relation with Charlotte instead of improving it.

  Her thoughts returned to Jane’s last letter. Father had stopped attempting to read on his own entirely. He seemed pleased to be read out loud. Elizabeth wondered how much his eyesight must have worsened to bring him to that.

  “Miss Bennet.”

  A deep voice was heard close by. Elizabeth closed her eyes tightly. Not that man again. Not Mr. Darcy! Perhaps if she ignored him he would go away, leaving her alone. What a rude man he was! Could he not see that she was enjoying her own company and solitude and did not appreciate being interrupted? She had certainly not invited him on any of her walks, neither did she encourage his attention in any manner—on the contrary—and here he was!

  On her third day at Hunsford he had come with a visit together with his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. As much as Elizabeth learned to enjoy the Colonel’s company from the first moments of their acquaintance, the same could not be said about Darcy. The man was behaving more peculiar than ever before. He kept visiting Hunsford unannounced, not to mention uninvited, asking irrelevant questions or sitting quietly while staring at the walls or his tall riding boots. Too often he bothered her on her strolls. On seeing her he always thought it necessary to speak to her or even walk with her all the way back to Hunsford.

  Usually Elizabeth did not allow herself to become too upset with his presence, but today was quite different. Only yesterday Elizabeth had received a confirmation from Colonel Fitzwilliam that Darcy had indeed separated Mr. Bingley from a young woman whom he found unsuitable for his friend. Hateful man! Poor Jane was a victim of Darcy’s meddling in Mr. Bingley’s life.

  “Miss Bennet.” The deep voice was heard again.

  Elizabeth opened her eyes. It was high time to return to Hunsford as far from Mr. Darcy as possible.

  Quickly she rose to her feet, putting her bonnet back on, avoiding his gaze.

  “Are you well?” he enquired.

  Elizabeth looked up. His tall form blocked not only the sun but also the entire countryside from her view. If only she had the height of Jane or even Caroline Bingley! She would not have to crane her neck at an odd angle to look into his face. She was of average posture for a woman, but the man was a giant.

  “I am well, sir,” she answered coldly. “I was merely resting. I walked too far today.”

  “Allow me to accompany you to Hunsford, then.”

  Elizabeth pressed her lips in a tight line. It was not the first time he insisted on accompanying her home from her walks. He seemed to take the greatest pleasure in tormenting her. Always frequenting the same spots which she did!

  Without a word to him she began walking the fastest she could. But even if she were to set in a run she would be no match for him with his spiderlike legs.

  They were at the gate leading to the small garden around the cottage when he rudely stepped her way. “Will I see you tonight at Rosings? My aunt mentioned that the entire company from Hunsford was to dine with us.”

  “I do believe that I will have a headache tonight and I will not be able to attend. You can inform your aunt about it,” she spoke insolently.

  To her utter bewilderment his serious face broke into a wide smile when he heard her words.

  “Goodbye, sir,” she said, before hurrying inside the house. Why was he laughing? What a strange man he was. She dearly hoped that she would not have to see his face before her departure and any time in the future.

  ***

  Elizabeth planned to feign a headache in front of Charlotte to be able to excuse herself from the obligatory dinner at Rosings Park, but she was spared from doing it. An unpleasant pressure settled above her eyes, which made her retire early to her room, lying down in bed with a cool cloth over her forehead.

  Close to six o’clock a maid entered her room with surprising news that Mr. Darcy was waiting for her downstairs. The servant had to repeat the news twice because Elizabeth could not quite believe it. What could he want from her when the company from Hunsford was at Rosings Park, dining with his relatives?

  She instructed the maid to
tell him that she was unable to see him then turned on her side, hoping that sleep would come to her.

  Chapter Three

  The next day she woke up at dawn. Her headache was gone and a new hope brightened her spirits. In two days she would be in London with the Gardiners and by the end of the week in Longbourn with Jane and Papa.

  She dressed in a simple grey dress and wrapped the shawl around her arms, as the mornings were still cold. She did not bother to put on her bonnet or tend to her hair properly, leaving it half pinned with a mass of heavy tresses curling down her back. Her intention was to return well before breakfast. She would not walk far; there was a pleasant spot with a view over the pastures only half a mile behind the cottage. She walked out through the back door, the scurry maid letting her out.

  Crossing the pasture, she saw the grove, but also the familiar tall figure. She was about to turn on her feet and return to the cottage, but it was too late. Mr. Darcy was approaching rapidly, the ends of his great coat blowing behind him.

  “Miss Bennet,” he cried out. “I have been concerned. How is your headache?”

  “I am quite well, Mr. Darcy,” she answered shortly, angered by his presence. How did he know that she would be here this early in the morning?

  “I wished to speak to you yesterday. I thought that you were expecting me last evening.”

  She frowned. “Expecting you?”

  “But of course. You told me purposely that you would not be present at Rosings so I could pay you a visit.”

  She stared at the man in front of her for a longer moment, greatly confused. “Mr. Darcy, forgive me if I have given you false impression yesterday. You obviously misunderstood my meaning. Moreover, I do not comprehend what it was that you wished to discuss with me last evening.”

  For a short moment a thought crossed her mind that he wished to apologize for his role in separating Jane from Mr. Bingley. That was certainly something which she would have never expected from him. Elizabeth felt that her patience was at its very end. She had had enough of Mr. Darcy and his riddles.

  “Will you let me pass, sir?” she asked, and when he did not move, she added, “Please?”

  “I will not let you pass,” he denied, “unless you go along with me.” His dark eyes searched hers. “No longer can I be silent. I must tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

  Elizabeth’s body stilled and stiffened. “What...what are you speaking of?” she breathed.

  His eyes bore into hers. “You truly had no suspicion as to my feelings for you? All those times I sought your company and looked at you.”

  She shook her head. “I would never...” she paused, lacking words.

  “I have loved you for a long time, since last year. I love you despite reason, my wishes, and my own better judgement. I tried to forget you, but when we met again here in Kent I could not stay away. I kept in mind all the reasons which make our union a highly reprehensible possibility: your unfortunate family which was so much below my own, your vulgar mother and wild younger sisters, your father whose neglect led your family to become the ridicule of the neighbourhood. It was all for nothing. Thus I beg you to end my suffering and agree to become my wife.”

  Elizabeth was still frozen in place, her eyes, wide and unblinking, were focused on the fine cloth of his great coat. For what seemed a very long time she could not wrap her mind about what she had heard. Anger and humiliation mixed with astonishment fought against each other within her very being.

  Somehow she stumbled back, twisting on her own two feet. His gloved hands settled on her arm, stopping her from falling back. She blinked, looking down. She heard him speaking her name but she failed to respond. What should she do? Every part of her being wished to refuse him in sharp biting words, to hurt and humiliate him with her rejection in the same manner he hurt and humiliated her with his most ungentlemanly proposal.

  She was silent, thought. Spiteful words did not leave her mouth.

  By marrying a wealthy man like Darcy she would be able to help her loved ones. Despite his disregard for her family she doubted that a proud man like Darcy would allow his wife’s family to live in destitution. If her father were healthy she would have rejected him without second consideration, but the situation was changed. She knew that if Jane had been in her place she would not hesitate. She would sacrifice her own happiness willingly.

  “Yes,” she said quietly but clearly enough for him to hear her. “I do accept your offer, sir.”

  She allowed him to draw her gently into his arms. She felt his steady gaze on her face. He was waiting for her to look at him. When she did at last, his expression was one she had not known from him ever before, kind and tender.

  “My dearest loveliest Elizabeth. You made me the happiest of men.”

  His right hand cupped her cheek while his free arm circled her waist. She felt the roughness of his coat but he still kept some distance between them, not pressing her too forcefully against his frame. He saw his head bending down and she quickly closed her eyes, standing perfectly still. She was not surprised that he wished to kiss her. It was expected, given their new understanding.

  She felt his breath on her face, tensing even further. He smelt of coffee and horse. It was not an unappealing scent. His lips touched the corner of hers first, before settling more firmly on her mouth. She stood calmly even though her heart was hammering in her chest.

  Soon enough he pulled back. Looking up, she saw that he was studying her carefully, his intelligent eyes trying to read her. What was he thinking? Darcy could be many things: proud, resentful, rude and cruel, but he was not a stupid man. Could he see her resistance? Did it bother him? Did he wish to simply have her, not truly caring what she felt for him?

  His large hand settled on her back, stroking it gently a few times up and down her spine. At last he put his arm firmly around her, making her feel its weight on her shoulder blades. Taking one step closer, he had her imprisoned between the wall of his body and his arms. He guided her head to his chest, her face settled against the fine but coarse wool of his coat. After a few moments, to her own surprise, she found herself relaxing in his embrace. His cheek was supported against the top of her head while his fingers stroked the nape of her neck beneath her hair. It was not an entirely unpleasant sensation. Even though he did not hesitate to take liberties with her, he was gentle; she could not refuse him that.

  “I should return to the cottage,” she said, pulling away from him. “Mrs. Collins must be wondering where I am. I do not wish to cause worry to her.”

  “Shall we meet later in the day?” he asked, not allowing her to step back, his hands settled on her shoulders.

  Elizabeth knew that she could not, that she should not refuse him a meeting. It was what betrothed couples had in custom. They spent time together.

  “Very well,” she answered.

  “I will be waiting in the grove at one.”

  “I will be there,” she promised.

  “There is much that we have to discuss,” he said, bending down to pick her shawl, which had been left discarded on the grass for some time now.

  Elizabeth wrapped it around her arm diligently even though she was far from being cold.

  “I shall escort you to the cottage,” he informed her.

  “No! It is not a sound idea. Someone might see us. I would have to explain why I was in your company so early in the morning not only in front of Charlotte but also Mr. Collins.”

  He frowned. “You do not wish to keep our understanding a secret, I hope?”

  “Mrs. Collins is my dear friend. I do not wish to do anything which may upset her life during my stay in her home. And I do not believe that Lady Catherine will be pleased about our understanding. It is better to take precautions for the time being.”

  “I see,” he answered. “I do understand your point. As I have already said, there is much that we need to discuss.”

  “There is,” she agreed.

  She was joyous when he allowed her t
o walk away from him at last. She had to bear another kiss and embrace before she was free to go, though. She felt his gaze on her back as she was walking away but she did not turn back to look at him. She did not find the courage to do so.

  ***

  She could already see his tall frame as she was approaching the grove from the hillside. Already waiting for her, he was. He greeted her warmly before presenting his surprise to her, a picnic. A thick blanket was spread on the ground, with a fat basket filled with goods placed right in the middle of it.

  Elizabeth was most astonished. She would have never expected him to be quite so thoughtful. She sat down, her back straight and rigid. She concentrated on unpacking the food. Darcy seemed much more relaxed than she. His back was supported against the tree trunk, his long legs stretched leisurely in front of him.

  Even though the chicken sandwich which she selected for herself was delicious, she had very little of it. Her stomach was in knots. Darcy had no such problems. He had a good appetite as always.

  As she was doing her best to avoid looking at him, from the corner of her eyes she saw that he was opening the bottle of wine.

  “Papa disapproves of us having wine unless it is at dinner time,” she said.

  “One glass will not harm you,” he spoke confidently. “It is very mild and quite sweet, you should enjoy it.”

  Elizabeth sipped slowly, truly enjoying this excellent drink.

  “I want to be married in six weeks,” he announced.

  She managed to swallow what she had in her throat without choking.

  “So soon?”

  “I do not see the need to wait. You must understand that a long engagement would be a highly reprehensible affair, taking into consideration your family. Spending more than the necessary time in their company would be a pure torture.”

  Elizabeth looked down, her cheeks reddening, anger burning inside of her. She could not tell him what she truly thought; she could not oppose him. What was she doing? It was not too late to stop this madness. No one knew of their understanding, not yet. Her family would have to manage without Darcy’s help. Mama had five thousand pounds, which would give them about five hundred pounds a year. It was a lot of money, but for six people who had to rent the house, buy clothes, food, employ at least a cook and one maid, keep themselves warm at winter, it was sadly lacking. Mama was not used to economizing, not to mention the youngest girls. She and Jane would have to try to find some employment. A lady’s companion would be the most suitable occupation.