Chapter 30

 

May 15, 1813

 

As if in solidarity with Darcy's mood, dark clouds rolled across the sky obscuring the sun. The change in mood and temperature happened so rapidly, it did not immediately register with the Master of Pemberley or the object of his affection. To be entirely honest, Elizabeth's rejection had left him in shock, causing his surroundings to blur. Nothing, short of an emergency, could have penetrated the dense fog filling his mind.

“No?” he asked. His look of confusion, mixed with disappointment, would have made a lesser woman offer comfort. It was a look you might find on the face of a small boy who has just watched his favorite toy fall into the fire. “Am I not entitled to know why, with such little regard, you refuse my offer?”

Elizabeth stared at Mr. Darcy with a look of incredulity. “Did we not just discuss at length the reasons why?”

Mr. Darcy thought over the discussion. There was a chance there had been a misunderstanding, and going over the points of their conversation might allow them to pinpoint where it had occurred. “You pointed out that we both have families with faults, and I acknowledged you are correct. I followed your suggestion and attempted to be as honest and forthright as possible. You suggested that I continue to work on my tact, and I suggested you work on your choice of words. We clarified that Mr. Kent was just a misunderstanding and somehow you got confused thinking I could be in love with Miss Bingley. Once we are married, I will need to punish you for making such an egregious error, but fear not, I shall ensure your torture is not unpleasant.” Darcy's efforts at creating levity fell flat, and with it, the small flicker of hope he had held onto began to fade. He decided to return to the topic at hand, “Then you accused me of being conceited, but I explained that I was just repeating what I had been told. That is about the sum of it. I thought it was an honest discussion and much was resolved. I cannot see how this discussion has led to your refusal.”

Lizzy shook her head. “Mr. Darcy, you have pointed out yourself that I do not love you. Despite your assumption that I have dreamed all my life of capturing a wealthy husband who will ensure I am provided for, I assure you that I am not mercenary. I shall only marry for love.”

That was all? She had refused simply because she was being sentimental? Surely, reason would prevail. His hope reignited. “Again, Miss Bennet, might I suggest the word 'practical' rather than 'mercenary'? Our children cannot fault you for being practical once you realize the wisdom in my offer.”

“As I have refused your offer of marriage and will not be reconsidering it, I do not think we will have children.”

“Now that I know your only objection is lack of love, we should be able to overcome it. Have you not thought of your duty to your country?”

“Pardon? I do not believe I understand you, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth looked down the path toward the house. Georgiana should have been back quite some time ago. This conversation was growing awkward and she was looking forward to its end.

“You see, I am an important person who knows and can influence many important people. Do you not owe it to your country to align yourself with me to ensure I use my influence ethically?” Darcy frowned. That did not come out quite right. He wished Georgiana was here to explain this to her.

“I am afraid we will need to revisit my claim of your conceit. I am not convinced I was in error.”

“Word choice, Miss Bennet. Self-assured, confident. Both much better choices than 'conceit.'”

Large raindrops began falling to the earth. No sooner had the first battalion of water landed than the next wave started its assault. The speed with which the rain grew into a storm was astounding. It put an immediate end to the discussion by forcing Elizabeth and Darcy to make a mad dash toward the house. The pair had been standing at a clearing which was normally a five-minute walk from the house but by running, their exposure to the torrent in the sky could have lasted no more than two minutes. Even though brief, this journey left both soaked through.

Once indoors, Darcy turned toward her. “May we continue this discussion at a later time?”

“I see no need, Mr. Darcy. I have given you a straightforward answer and cannot better explain myself. I do not foresee my answer changing.” This answer tugged at Darcy's heart. She certainly sounded confident in her resolve. He began to again doubt his ability to convince her of the wisdom of their union.

Georgiana appeared at the top of the stairs, “Elizabeth,” she called, “you look drenched. Come upstairs and I will show you to your room!”

Elizabeth turned to Mr. Darcy, “If you will excuse me, I would like to get changed.” Elizabeth ascended the marble staircase. Her skirts leaked like a bucket that had been through target practice and was leaving behind puddles on every step. About halfway up, Elizabeth lost her footing on the slick polished stone and went tumbling backward until her body fell in a heap at the base of the stairs. Darcy raced over from the front entrance and Georgiana raced down from the top of the stairs, fortunately not falling herself in the process. Elizabeth was unconscious but only for a minute or two. She soon roused herself and found her head on Georgiana's lap and a concerned Mr. Darcy holding her hand.

She jerked her hand away. “Where am I? And why am I all wet?”

“You are at Pemberley,” Darcy replied, “You were caught in the rain before you took a little tumble down the stairs. I think you might have a mild concussion based on your confusion. We have sent for the doctor. Does anything hurt?”

Elizabeth tried to sit up and found her ribs very much hurt as well as her ankle. Her head felt as if it had been bumped, but the fog clouding her thinking was not overwhelming. She still remembered who she was, where she came from, and that this had been a positively awful day with a long carriage ride, a terrible proposal, a complete soaking and now a tumble. “I'm a little sore, but I am not sure a doctor is necessary.” Elizabeth tried to struggle to her feet, discovering in the process something was definitely wrong with some ribs and her ankle had a bad sprain.

“Please stay still, Elizabeth,” Georgiana asked gently. “If you don't want to remain on the floor, Fitzwilliam can carry you to your room. I would feel much better if you tried to move on your own as little as possible until the doctor arrives and offers his assessment.”

Lizzy thought back to the size of the Pemberley estate and knew that it would be a while before the doctor could be found and retrieved. She did not like the idea of Mr. Darcy carrying her, but the marble slab beneath her was not as soft as her aching muscles would like. “Mr. Darcy, if you would be so kind as to help me to my room, I would be grateful.”

Once Elizabeth was comfortably settled into her bed, servants were sent to find Jane and Mr. Bingley so that Jane could assist her sister in changing into dry, warm clothes. And, so it was that when Dr. Hardey arrived, he found a patient that was in far better shape than he had been led to believe after hearing the servant's report. After an examination, Elizabeth was told that in addition to bruises, scrapes and general muscle soreness, her fall had, as expected, caused a severe sprain in her right ankle and four cracked ribs. Darcy had been correct that she had suffered a small concussion, but the doctor indicated that she should not suffer any ill effects from it, and she was very lucky that her head had not been further damaged. Elizabeth was ordered to stay in bed for four weeks to give her ribs an opportunity to heal.

At long last, the multitude of people filed out of her room giving Lizzy a much-needed opportunity to rest and reflect. While Lizzy appreciated the reprieve, she did discover quickly that she wished her sister had stayed. So much had just happened, and she wanted someone to talk to about it.

Darcy too needed to speak to a friend about today's events and was glad to find a willing ear in Bingley. The gentlemen sat in the study, deep in conversation.

“She refused your offer?”

“Yes, Bingley.” Darcy sighed. “As I have already confirmed for you twice, she has indicated she is not interested in marrying me and says there is no possibility of reconsidering. She does not love me and will only marry for love.”

“Surely you don't intend to simply give up?”

“What would you have me do? Chase her around demanding she change her mind?”

“No,” said Bingly with an emphatic shake of his head. “But I am sure something can be done. Jane repeatedly told me to give up and, when I did not, she finally decided it was easier to just give in. Perhaps if you share the details of your conversation with me, we can develop a better plan.”

Darcy proceeded to recount the details of his proposal and the subsequent discussion. Bingley was nearly red with laughter when Darcy had finished speaking.

“I fail to see what you find so amusing,” Darcy said. This was not entirely true. He strongly suspected he was being laughed at; he just could not understand why.

“It is so rare that I have an opportunity to say 'I told you so'. I am just savoring the moment.”

“Bingley, I am afraid you are mistaken. You said that she would not refuse me.”

“That is true. What I am gloating about is you saying you would do a better job convincing someone you care about to make a life-changing decision. I can definitively say, you failed. Miserably. Worse than my attempt to bolster your confidence. Just as I predicted.”

“No. Elizabeth told me she prized honesty. In terms of delivering my message, I gave her exactly what she said she wanted.”

“Oh, dear. Before you marry, please try to learn this lesson,” Bingley looked his friend in the eye to ensure his message was heard, “What a woman says she wants, and what she actually wants, are not always in agreement. But fear not, my friend. Your luck is beyond measure.”

“I fail to see your meaning. If I were lucky, I would be celebrating my engagement right now.”

“If you were without good fortune, the lady would have given you a black eye. But what is truly fortuitous for you is that Elizabeth fell down the stairs! I must say though, you do make it terribly hard on yourself. Despite your belief it is a lack of love that is the only obstacle on your path to happiness, there are other challenges. Worse yet, I regret to inform, you personally placed many of these challenges on your route.”

“I fail to see how Elizabeth's accident is fortuitous!”

Ignoring Darcy's confusion, Bingley grew serious and turned his attention to the problem at hand. “You indicated that she wishes to marry for love. Let's focus our efforts on this task first.”

“Did you not tell me yourself that I lack charm and cannot, therefore, hope to achieve this feat?”

“I believe I said you could not make her fall in love with you unless she was trapped with you in the same house and she felt obligated to spend time with you. This is why her tumble was fortunate. She is now trapped in your house for four weeks, which should be sufficient time for you to win her heart provided you stop behaving like an utter fool. I will need to confer with Georgiana on this. Opening your mouth is the only way to demonstrate to her what a kind and good person you are, but it is also proving to be a very large liability. Maybe we can develop a list of topics you can safely navigate independently and structure times where we can join you in conversations and steer you into safe waters if you begin to sail off course.”

Darcy was beginning to feel as if he was being treated as a toddler, but desperation can stifle pride. And so, Darcy spent the balance of the afternoon strategizing over ways to win Lizzy's heart.