Darcy sat staring at the letter in front of him. It was finished—written as well as anyone could expect. But he had small hope that it would impact Charles in the manner he hoped. It was the fourth such letter he had written in the span of ten days. His friend had yet to respond to any of them.
Part of him wanted to think that the lack of response was simply due to time—Charles simply had not had time to respond. But he knew that wasn’t the case.
The first letter he had sent while Bingley was still in London. The second had been returned to him, accompanied by a note from Caroline Bingley to Georgiana casually mentioning Caroline’s annoyance at her brother’s return to Hertfordshire.
Darcy regretted involving Georgiana in his mess—and Caroline’s involvement even more. But he had re-sent the second letter by express. The third had followed three days later. And the fourth now lay before his eyes.
He had decided this would be the last letter. Before now, Darcy had allowed his desire to reconcile with Charles overshadow any concern about badgering his friend. But Charles’ continued silence was a clear indicator that he was not ready to speak with him. It had taken him ten days, but he finally realised that part of showing Bingley he cared was allowing his friend to have space. And allowing his friend to be angry with him.
He deserved Bingley’s anger—that which had been expressed and more. Darcy had never before experienced the waves of guilt that had assaulted him over the past days. Never before had anyone expressed their hurt in such a direct and forceful manner. But now that Darcy had seen the cruel imperfections in his character, he knew he must rectify them.
It was no easy task—how can one confront their own selfishness and arrogance if one cannot recognise it? Darcy had no doubt he possessed these short-comings—Elizabeth and Charles were both good judges of character and both had hurled the same accusations. Only a fool would ignore the assessment of two such people. But he did not understand what behaviours and thoughts made him so self-serving and proud.
Darcy had spent hours considering his actions. His heart, he believed, was in the right place. He had separated Bingley from Jane because he wanted to save his friend pain and heartbreak. This desire, in and of itself, did not seem objectionable. Where Charles seemed to take offense was that Darcy did not hold himself to the same standards.
At the time, he admitted to himself, he had not considered the ramifications of his proposal to Elizabeth. He had not seen the inherent hypocrisy of his actions. However, since seeing them, he had wavered between indignant defence of his actions and complete confession of wrongdoing.
The excuses came in the moments of frustration towards Charles’ silence—the man was being unreasonable! Could he not see that Darcy was willing to undertake the pain he had saved Charles from? Was that not a noble gesture? Like stepping in front of a pistol shot!
He was glad he never wrote his friend a letter in those moments.
No, for the past few days, he had settled into a posture of confession. His actions were not noble. They were selfish and hypocritical—he had not saved Bingley from heartbreak, he had taken away his right to choose his own future. He had believed he knew better than Charles and had acted accordingly. It was no wonder his friend was so angry with him.
That he had hidden Jane’s presence for so long only made things worse. The more he considered his decisions over the past month, the more ashamed he became. He realised that he had treated his friend like a silly child, not the intelligent man he admired and respected.
Darcy rubbed his eyes. Bingley usually possessed a calm and unruffled demeanour—he was not easily angered. But Darcy now knew that he deserved this uncharacteristic anger. In fact, he might deserve a deeper anger than his friend presented.
All of these thoughts and considerations were consolidated in the letter now awaiting sealing wax and stamp. His first three letters had contained profuse apologies and begging for forgiveness. This letter contained no begging.
Darcy had finally recognised that the begging came from a hope that Charles would forget his anger and extend an invitation. A hope that Darcy could skip past the consequences of his decisions and return to his wooing of the woman he loved. In short, his first three letters had continued the selfishness he had only recently begun to see.
This fourth letter only contained admission of wrongs, acknowledgements of hurt, and taking responsibility for both. He apologised, but did not ask for forgiveness. He had to trust that his friend would forgive him eventually. And he must accept that would take time.
Darcy hated this realisation. It was antithetical to the manner in which he lived his life: taking control and action. But he finally realised he could not control his friend.
The personal revelations of the last days had been difficult. However, that did not compare with the agony he knew was coming. As soon as he sent this letter, he knew his chances to woo Elizabeth would come to an end. All of his hopes and dreams of sweeping into Hertfordshire and winning her heart would come crashing to a halt. As soon as he mailed this letter, he knew that he would lose Elizabeth.
However, even if he did not send this letter, Elizabeth was still slipping through his fingers. She was still moving further and further from his reach. No matter what he did, he could not see a path that led him to Meryton. At least with the letter he would have a chance to save his friendship with Charles. Without the missive, he feared he would lose Charles in addition to Elizabeth.
Darcy was so focused up his thoughts, he did not hear the door open nor the soft footsteps coming across the floor. He did not expect the light touch on his shoulder, and he jumped in shock and surprise.
“Sorry!” Georgiana said, taking a step back. “Brother, I do apologise. I did not intend to startle you.”
“No,” Darcy said, catching his breath and giving Georgiana a smile. “It’s quite alright. My mind was elsewhere.”
“I can see that,” she said, looking at him appraisingly.
Darcy felt uncomfortable under her gaze and cleared his throat nervously.
“Do you need something?” He asked.
“No,” she replied, taking a seat in the high-backed chair that sat beside his writing desk. “I wanted to check on you. Your mood has had me worried these past few days.”
“Worried?” He asked, surprised. He knew that his behaviour since coming from Rosings had been unpredictable and confusing, but he thought he had moved past his snappish tendencies and into a more steady temperament.
“Indeed,” Georgiana said. “You seem to have sunk into a deep hole. Where there was once anger and impatience, there is now melancholy and disinterest. No hint of happiness has crossed your face in weeks—those days spent with Elizabeth proved only to be a brief respite and I am worried. I wish you would tell me more about what has you in such a state.”
“I do not wish to talk about it,” Darcy said. It was bad enough that he had to be confronted with the failings of his character. He had no wish to air those failings to his sister.
“Is this about the fight you had with Charles Bingley?” Georgiana asked. Darcy gave her a dark look—how did she know about that?
“I’ve been writing to Caroline,” she said, answering his wordless question. “After she wrote returning your letter, it was only polite to thank her. And she was more than willing to share her… familial gossip.”
Darcy felt agitation rise within him—if he could have chosen someone to enlighten Georgiana of his personal conflicts and shortcomings, Caroline Bingley would not have been that person.
“And what did Caroline say?”
“Only that you and Charles had some sort of falling out,” Georgiana said hurriedly. “She did not know the cause, and Charles was quite adamant in his refusal to give her more details,” Georgiana smiled softly. “She was quite irritated at this.”
Darcy sighed. He supposed he was grateful that Charles had said so little to his sister. Undoubtedly, she was bearing the brunt of some of her brother’s anger as well—she had a pivotal role in keeping Jane away as well.
“We did have a falling out,” Darcy said, deciding to come clean to Georgiana. “Over my ill-behaviour.”
“Ill-behaviour?” Georgiana said, surprised. “What could you possibly mean?”
“It has been… pointed out,” he replied slowly, considering his words carefully. “That I have a tendency to behave in certain… selfish ways. In dealing with the Bennet girls, I hurt Charles deeply in the pursuit of my own happiness.”
Over the past weeks, he had brought Georgiana into his confidence in ways that he had never thought possible. Her continued wisdom and support in the face of Darcy’s shortcomings proved to him two things: his sister possessed a character that he could only dream of emulating, and that she was growing up. He loved spoiling his sister as one spoils a child, but he was learning to rely upon the woman the child had grown into. He was a blessed man.
“Ah,” Georgiana said, seeming to understand. “I can understand why Charles feels that way.” She reached out for Darcy’s hand and patted in comfortingly. “But I also am confident that you acted in the manner you thought best. Selfish it may have been, but I know your intentions were pure. Charles knows it as well, I’m sure.”
“I’m uncertain that you are correct about Charles. You are kind to me as only a sister could be, but he has no such loyalty,” Darcy said miserably. “And his anger is proving an insurmountable wall in the way of my own endeavours.”
“You mean in regards to Elizabeth?” Georgiana asked.
“Yes,” Darcy’s voice became a strained whisper. “I’m afraid she has slipped beyond my reach. I see no way forward that offers any hope of a future with her. In losing Charles, I have lost Elizabeth as well.”
“Ah,” Georgiana said with a surprising smile breaking out across his face. “In that, I believe I can offer some hope.”
“Hope?” Darcy laughed bitterly. “I am afraid I have given up on the very idea.”
“That would be to your detriment,” Georgiana replied wryly. “For I have new information that I believe offers a chance for redemption in not one but two relationships.”
Darcy whipped his head toward his sister, feeling his mouth go dry. Redemption? Was it truly possible? What information could possibly offer such an impossibility?
“Tell me everything.”
Georgiana’s smile widened as she proceeded to enlighten him to all that was happening in Hertfordshire. As Darcy listened, his heart began to lift—perhaps it wasn’t as hopeless as it seemed.