Nearly a half hour after Charlotte left the parsonage for Rosings, Elizabeth returned Jane’s letters to the drawer in the small writing desk and left her room. She considered sitting in the garden for a time, but chose to have tea in the parlor instead.
Elizabeth smiled when Cook arrived with a small tray for her. The motherly woman expressed her satisfaction at Elizabeth’s presence in the parlor. “I am pleased you have come down, Miss. Mrs. Collins was worried when you did not wish to go to Rosings.”
“I am sorry to have caused my friend a moment’s discomfort. I fear I would not have been good company as I received distressing news this morning.” Elizabeth poured her tea and hoped Cook would not inquire further.
She need not have worried for the woman bustled from the room as the doorbell sounded. Elizabeth stood, wondering who had come to call. Charlotte had not warned her of any expected guests.
When she heard the voice of Mr. Darcy mingling with that of Cook, her heart sank and she glanced hastily about for any means of escape. There was none to be had.
Steeling herself at last for his imminent arrival into the sanctuary of Charlotte’s parlor, Elizabeth clasped her hands tightly before her. Why on earth had the man come to call mere hours after she had learned of his betrayal of her sister?
Cook brought him to the parlor and left quickly with the excuse of fetching a second teacup. There was an awkward silence between them that was only broken with Cook’s return.
“Mr. Darcy, how lovely to see you again,” Elizabeth lied as the servant place the cup upon the tray.
“Miss Elizabeth, I was not aware Mrs. Collins was not at home. It is just as well as I have come to speak with you.”
He did not sit when she did but Elizabeth poured his tea and inquired about his desire for sugar and cream. Mr. Darcy behaved as though she had not spoken. Taking her own cup and sipping slowly, Elizabeth watched him pace about the room.
Whatever he had come to say seemed to vex him and she hoped the Colonel had not spoken to him of their walk that morning. Though she wished to hurl her cup at him, it would not do.
Of a sudden, he ceased his irritating habit and crossed the room. He sat very close beside her on the sofa. Elizabeth knew not what had overcome the man. Placing her cup upon the low table before them, she once again clasped her hands tightly.
“Mr. Darcy, I do not wish to appear rude but I am unwell this afternoon. What is it you wished to discuss?”
“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
Elizabeth stood suddenly and moved away from him. Had the man gone mad? Keeping her composure, though later she would not know how she had accomplished such a feat, she managed to speak.
“If I could feel gratitude at this offer, Mr. Darcy, I assure you I would make it known. I have never desired your good opinion and you have bestowed it most unwillingly.”
Mr. Darcy rose from the sofa, his countenance gone white and his lips forming a thin line of anger. Elizabeth thought better of her words but it was far too late for that now.
In a moment, he appeared under good regulation and Elizabeth gave a deep sigh of relief. It proved to be a small consolation as his next words would call up the anger the colonel had lit earlier with his tale.
“And this is all the reply I may expect? I wish to know why, with such little effort at civility, I am thus rejected? But it is of small importance.”
Elizabeth loosed her resentment upon the man, withholding nothing. “You insult me again, Mr. Darcy? It is with little effort at civility that you proclaim to like me, love me even. Had not my own feelings decided against you, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining forever the happiness of a most beloved sister?”
“I am not ashamed of the feelings I related, they are natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”
Elizabeth very nearly did bend to retrieve her teacup then and hurl its contents at his head. Instead she pointed her finger at him and raised her voice.
“You care little for the feelings of others but yet your own should be given consideration? You interfered against my sister with Mr. Bingley and Mr. Wickham, you reduced him to his present state of poverty and withheld advantages designed for him. Do you deny any of it?”
If he was foolish enough to attempt a denial, Elizabeth knew she would indulge herself in the breaking of the dishes.
“I admit I did everything in my power to separate your sister and my friend. To him I have been kinder than to myself. As for Wickham, you know only that which he wishes for you to know. Had I employed flattery, as he does, I might have had you for my bride quite easily.”
“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy. Had you behaved as a gentleman from our first meeting until this, which I hope shall be our last, I could have believed you cared for me. But that is not the case and so you could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.''
With this, Elizabeth left the room with all the grace she could muster given the anger boiling within. How dare he come here, accost her with such a vile proposal, and pretend he was the wronged party!
She did not hear the slamming of the front door nor did she answer the knocks upon her door afterwards. Upon entering her room, she had fallen upon the bed and sobbed for Jane and for herself. How was it that Mr. Bingley was lost to her sister and Mr. Darcy was to blame? How had the man decided to come to her now and declare his affections?
Elizabeth did not know how she might continue at Hunsford after the disaster in her cousin’s parlor.