A Peculiar Connection (20 page)

“No, I brought her with me.”

I smiled with delight. “I shall take pleasure in seeing her once more.”

“She is impatient for your company as well, and she wishes to become better acquainted with your younger sisters.”

“I know they will be glad to visit with her.”

“Shall I bring her tomorrow? Would that be convenient?”

“Certainly. I cannot help but wonder, however, what brings you to the country. Surely, it is not just for Georgiana’s sake.”

“We will stay at Netherfield but a week or so and then depart for Bath to visit my aunt. I still hope to persuade you to join us and make the trip, too.”

“Sir, I—”

“Do not answer today. Just think on it, Elizabeth. That is all I ask. Have you ever been to Bath?” I shook my head. “It is a lovely place but fifteen miles from Bristol. I think you would find it diverting, and perchance my aunt may shed light on some of our questions.”

Oh, why must we speak of that again?

“You forget. I have no more questions.
You
are the one who remains dissatisfied.”

“If you had known our father, perhaps your curiosity would not yet be appeased. I tell you, Elizabeth, I must know why a man of his standing, who obviously adored my mother, would stoop to such degradation.”

I stopped short. “Degradation!”
After the pleasant afternoon we have enjoyed together, will you actually use that term?
“You forget yourself, sir, for my mother was of more noble birth than your father.”

“You misunderstand. I chose the wrong word.”

“You did indeed. Excuse me, I must return to Longbourn at once.”

I whirled around and walked swiftly into the wood. I heard him call my name, but I paid no attention, never slowing my pace in the slightest. So it was true; in spite of all his fine words and protestations to the contrary, Mr. Darcy did consider me a humiliation and reproach upon his family’s name. I almost reached the edge of the wood before he caught my hand.

“Must you twist what I say and accuse me of offence so often? I meant no slur upon your mother.”

I struggled to free my hand, but he held my wrist firmly and refused to let go.

“No, Elizabeth, I shall not release you until we settle this.”

“It can never be settled!”

“It can if you will remove the blinders from your eyes and see the truth.”

“I see perfectly well, sir. My vision is without fault, and for that matter, so is my hearing.”

“But your understanding is not! How can I make you grasp that I would not intentionally do or say anything to hurt you?”

“Not referring to my mother as a degradation upon your father would be as good a place to start as any.”

He stepped closer and fixed an angry stare upon me. “I told you that is not what I meant! Are you so thick that you cannot comprehend my words, or do you look for any reason you can find to dismiss me from your presence? What is it truly, Elizabeth? Do you dislike me with such fervour that you must make up transgressions I supposedly cause?”

“Why should I make up anything? You provide excellent cause without assistance!”

Our eyes locked together, his darkening once again—this time with anger. His jaw tightened, and the vein stood out along his temple. Our breath came quick and hard. My heart raced, and I supposed his did the same. His eyes moved to my hair, my cheeks, and down to my lips, and then…he blinked several times, looked away, and stepped back, releasing my hand. He turned his back, but I could see his laboured breathing as he struggled to calm himself.

What had just happened? How could an argument erupt between us with such passion? I turned away and engaged myself by donning my bonnet and straightening the ribbons. When I looked up, he still had not turned to face me.

“Sir, I…”

He lifted his hand in dismissal. “Pray, Elizabeth, not another word. We are both too angry right now. I fear we will utter words that neither of us can forgive.”

What had I done? I swallowed, opened my mouth to speak, but said nothing. I deliberately walked slowly through the trees, out of the wood, and into the lane, hoping he would stop me once again, but he did not. Further down the road, I turned twice to see whether he followed, but I saw no one. I returned to Longbourn, sick at heart, grieved that I had wounded him so. How could a time of joy turn to sorrow in a single moment?

Why did an ordinary day once again become a day of anguish?

][

Mr. Darcy did not bring Georgiana to visit Longbourn on the morrow. She arrived with Jane and without mention of a reason for her brother’s absence. My parents welcomed her. Mamá was obviously in awe of her fine clothes, and Mary and Kitty seemed pleased to renew their acquaintance with her. Jane persuaded her to play for us, and all were suitably impressed with her talent. When Mary took over at the instrument, Kitty drew Georgiana aside to view the trimmings on her latest bonnet. She seemed overwhelmed at first with all the attention, but after tea, she joined Kitty for a stroll in the garden and appeared at ease in her company. It was good to hear the sound of their laughter float through the open window.

Jane wore a weary expression as she answered our mother’s constant questions regarding her health and plans for the nursery. After she explained the same things for the third time, I rescued my sister by requesting her able assistance in the stillroom.

“Oh, Lizzy, your sister is far too busy now to putter around that musty old place with you. She has servants to arrange her flowers, a service you might enjoy if you would take advantage of your connections with the Darcys and encourage the men you might meet through them.”

“Mamá, if I had fifty servants to arrange my flowers, I would still prefer to do them myself as I quite enjoy it,” I replied. “Come, Jane, you must see the blue hydrangeas. They shall make excellent dried arrangements for autumn.”

She was only too eager to join me, and we spent an hour of contentment secluded in our refuge. We talked of Mr. Bingley’s excitement over the coming babe, how she had caught the upstairs maid pilfering her perfume, the fact that Mr. Bingley’s favourite horse had to be put down, and the upcoming ball he wished to hold before she progressed too far in her confinement.

Never once did she mention Mr. Darcy, and I began to despair of gleaning any intelligence of him. I could not help but worry that he remained too angry with me to bring Georgiana to Longbourn himself, and yet, I knew not how I might broach the subject without revealing our quarrel.

“You must have been surprised when Mr. Darcy and Georgiana arrived on your doorstep unexpectedly,” I said at last.

“Surprised, but not displeased. Charles enjoys his company, and I find his sister delightful. With such pleasant cousins, Lizzy, I wonder that you do not wish to return to Pemberley.”

“It is tempting at times, particularly when Mary practices the same song for half the day. Tell me, do they plan a long visit?”

“No. In fact, Mr. Darcy announced at breakfast they would leave within three days. Charles is disheartened, but thus far, none of his arguments have dissuaded his friend.”

“Will he not even stay for the ball?”

“You said yourself, Lizzy, that Mr. Darcy does not like to dance. Perchance that is the reason for his sudden removal.”

“Perchance,” I murmured, although I knew the answer all too well. He could not wait to place miles between us. I must have wounded him even more than I feared.

That night, I could not sleep.
Three days
pounded in my ears like a relentless throbbing headache. He would leave Hertfordshire, and I might never see him again. Is that not what I wanted? Had I not repeatedly told myself that it would be better if we forgot all about each other? And yet, my heart ached at the realization that we would part in anger.

What if he were killed in some accident along the way? I could never tell him that I was sorry I had spoken harshly. He was wrong to disparage my mother, and yet, it seemed insignificant in comparison to the possibility that the last words Mr. Darcy heard me utter were filled with bitterness and ill feeling. If only he would call upon me before he left Netherfield Park.

But he did not come.

Early on the morning of the third day, I arose, sipped a cup of coffee, and slipped out the door. I determined to walk to Netherfield, hoping to see Mr. Darcy before he departed or, even better, chance to meet him before I reached my destination. I knew he enjoyed an early morning walk before the world awakened, as did I, and I prayed he would take one last tramp through the wood before setting out on his journey. I hurried to Oakham Mount, but found it solitary. From there, I ploughed through the wood until it opened upon the secluded pond where we had last seen each other. I heard no sound other than frogs croaking and an occasional fish surfacing to feed.

Sick with disappointment, I returned to the road and turned in the direction of Mr. Bingley’s estate. Within moments, I heard the sound of a carriage approaching. Although I stood well out of its path, I made certain I was clearly visible to all riding within. My heart jumped into my throat when I recognized that the vehicle belonged to Mr. Darcy. Surely, he would direct the driver to halt when he saw me. I began to breathe easier when I saw the horses slow down as they approached, but to my utter dismay, the carriage did not stop.

Mr. Darcy sat at the open window, his arm resting on the sill. He stared into my eyes as he passed by, but he did not lift his hand in any semblance of a wave. I followed him with my own eyes, turning around completely to watch him disappear around the bend. A cold chill crept up my spine at the expression I had seen on his face.

Nothing remained on his countenance other than bleak resignation and a sadness I cannot describe.

Chapter Eleven

After the scene on the roadway, days crawled by with unreasonable tediousness. I sometimes thought daylight stretched into twenty-four hours before evening fell. I longed to be alone with my thoughts, to avoid my family’s questions as to why I suffered such discomposure and what had become of my former lively self. While spending the required hours in their company following supper, I counted the minutes until I could flee to my chamber. Why, I do not know, because sleep deserted me.

For hours, I sat by the window, gazing at the stars and wondering where Mr. Darcy was.
What is he doing? Does he still think of me with anger?

I tortured myself with the possibility that my hasty accusations had severed all regard he might have felt for me. If only I could see him once more and make things right between us. When I did sleep, troublesome dreams disturbed me. I constantly chased after something, but what or who it was I knew not.

After a miserable week had passed, Jane drew me aside one day at Netherfield. At her invitation, I had come for dinner, along with Mamá and my younger sisters. After we dined and my mother began to doze in the parlour, Jane suggested the girls and I join her for exercise in the park. She cleverly led me down a separate path from Mary and Kitty, thus securing our privacy.

“Now, Lizzy, I insist you tell me what causes this unvarying dark temper to linger about you,” she said firmly, linking her arm within mine. “Your countenance is as downcast as it was during the days following Lady Catherine’s unfortunate visit. Has something else befallen you?”

I coloured and turned my attention to the summer daisies. “I do not know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. Tell the truth, and face me when you speak. Your eyes have always revealed when you attempt to deceive.”

“Do not be silly, Jane. I have no reason to lie. I am simply weary with life.”

“Weary? You? Why, Lizzy, you have always found stimulation in everything around you. Your wit and intelligence have served you well in the past. Why should you find life wearisome now? What circumstance has altered? Do I dare say you have changed your mind and now wish you had tarried longer at Pemberley?”

“Perhaps. I do not know. I just feel as though I am smothering at Longbourn. I cannot find one reason to anticipate the future other than the birth of your baby.”

“There has been a scarcity of social activities this summer, perhaps because of the unusual heat. But lest you forget, our ball is set for Thursday night. There should be a full moon, and Charles has planned every last particular. He refuses me licence to participate at all for fear of plaguing my well-being.”

I smiled. “Your husband is very attentive.”

“To a fault! If he had his way, I would lie in bed all day and be waited on hand and foot, but enough about me. You shall not escape my inquiries by changing the subject. Is the lack of suitable admirers in Hertfordshire cause for your dissatisfaction?”

“No, Jane, I am resolved to remain an old maid most likely and become a favourite aunt to your children because I shall spoil them excessively. Do not worry so.”

“An old maid! Not you, Lizzy, not with your romantic nature. No, I know there is someone, a man as perfect for you as Charles is for me. And with any luck, he is coming to Netherfield for the ball.”

I laughed lightly. “What makes you think that?”

“Charles told me that a stranger is coming, a single man of modest fortune, someone neither you nor I have ever seen.”

“Oh? And does he have a name?”

“Mr. Hayden Hurst.”

“Hurst? Not—”

“Yes, he is Mr. Hurst’s younger brother, and he arrives with Louisa, Caroline, and Mr. Hurst tomorrow.”

I could not help it. My mouth dropped open. “Surely, you would not wish me married to Mr. Hurst’s brother! Why, that would make me sister to Louisa.”

“You can bear it if I must. I prefer to imagine him an exceedingly agreeable man whom you may highly esteem in many respects. Besides, he may not resemble his brother at all. With any luck, he will be as handsome as Charles.”

“With my luck, he will favour the reading material of Mr. Collins!”

We both commenced to giggle, which brought Mary and Kitty running around the shrubbery to hear the joke. The afternoon succeeded in lightening my spirit for a while, but I entertained few hopes for the Netherfield ball.