Page 36 of Grief and Grievances
Jane looked at her quizzically, and Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, summoning her courage before diving into the conversation she knew they must have.
“Jane,” she began softly, “When I told you earlier about Mary’s letter, and that Mr. Darcy had kindly offered to convey us home, I did not tell you everything that he said. I have some news to impart about Mr. Bingley. It seems that he is very likely already returned to Netherfield.”
Jane stared at her, eyes wide with surprise. “Truly, Lizzy? What makes you say so?”
Elizabeth took a deep breath, knowing that what she was about to reveal would cause her sister pain, but it was necessary to clear the air. “I have discovered that his prolonged absence from Hertfordshire was not entirely of his own doing. It was Mr. Darcy who believed your feelings for Mr. Bingley were not as strong as his for you, and persuaded him to stay away.”
Jane’s initial shock gave way to sadness, and she looked down, twisting her hands together in her lap. “I see. I had wondered if there might be some outside influence at work, but I never suspected Mr. Darcy.”
“Neither did I, until recently,” admitted Elizabeth, feeling the weight of guilt settle upon her shoulders. “I am truly sorry, Jane, that I was unable to discern this truth sooner.”
Her sister offered a wan smile, trying to reassure her. “Do not blame yourself, Lizzy. I kept my emotions guarded, so it is understandable that Mr. Darcy might have misinterpreted my feelings.”
As they spoke, Elizabeth observed Jane’s countenance carefully, noting the way her fingers trembled ever so slightly. Her heart ached for her sister, knowing that the revelation of Darcy’s involvement brought fresh pain to an old wound.
“Jane,” Elizabeth ventured cautiously, “if I may be so bold as to ask, do you still harbour feelings for Mr. Bingley?”
“Truth be told,” Jane said, attempting a smile, “I have long accepted that Mr. Bingley and I were not meant to be. My feelings for him have been relegated to a memory, a mere remnant of the past.”
“Dearest Jane,” Elizabeth replied gently, her eyes reflecting both concern and disbelief, “your heart is too good to deceive even yourself. It is plain to see that your feelings for him are far from extinguished.”
“Perhaps,” Jane conceded, her gaze falling to her hands folded neatly in her lap.
“Then it may be fortuitous that he has returned,” Elizabeth replied gently, taking Jane’s hand in hers. “For I have reason to believe that his purpose in coming back is to persuade you to marry him.”
“Truly?” Jane whispered, hope flaring within her eyes.
“Indeed,” Elizabeth confirmed with a smile. “Though I must caution you not to raise your expectations too high, lest disappointment follow.”
“Of course,” Jane agreed, her fingers gripping her sister’s hand tightly. “Thank you, Lizzy, for telling me this. It eases my heart to know the truth, even if it does not guarantee happiness.”
“Sometimes the truth is all we can hold onto,” Elizabeth murmured, her thoughts drifting to her own secrets and the man who occupied so much of her heart.
An unexpected gust of wind blew through the open window, carrying the sweet scent of lavender from the gardens below. Georgiana, who had crept close to listen to the conversation between Elizabeth and Jane with growing anxiety, finally found her voice.
“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” she said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “I must confess that I knew of my brother’s involvement in your separation as well. I hesitated to reveal it because I feared that it might make you hate him and, by extension, myself.”
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and the vulnerability she displayed moved both Elizabeth and Jane. They exchanged a glance before stepping towards Georgiana, enfolding her into a warm embrace.
“Dearest Georgiana,” Elizabeth reassured her, “we could never blame you for your brother’s actions, nor would we ever allow them to affect our feelings for you. We cherish you as our dear friend.”
Jane added softly, “And I have already forgiven Mr. Darcy. Whatever his intentions may have been at the time, I believe he acted out of concern for his friend, and perhaps even for me, in his own way.”
Georgiana sniffled, burying her face in Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered, her heart swelling with gratitude.
Elizabeth smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Georgiana’s damp cheek. “There is no need for thanks, dear one. Remember, we are bound together not only by affection but also by our shared experiences.”
“Indeed,” agreed Jane, her voice tinged with the same warmth that seemed to radiate from her very being. “We are all connected now, and nothing will ever change that.”
Later that night, Elizabeth lay awake in bed, her thoughts consumed by the day’s revelations. She tossed and turned, her conscience pricking at her as she considered the secrets that still lay hidden within her heart. Though she knew of Darcy’s past actions and had borne witness to his undeniable growth, there remained a significant piece of information that she had yet to share.
As the darkness of night deepened, Elizabeth found herself unable to sleep, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On one hand, she longed to be open with Mr. Darcy, to unburden herself of the knowledge that weighed so heavily on her spirit. On the other, she feared the consequences of revealing what she knew—the potential harm to the delicate balance of their relationship.
“Is it not my duty,” she wondered, her fingers tracing patterns on the cool sheets, “to share everything with the man I have come to care for so deeply?” The question lingered in the uneasy silence, unanswered and unyielding. As Elizabeth continued to grapple with her thoughts, the first light of dawn began to creep through the curtains, casting a soft glow upon the turmoil that roiled within her heart.
The morning sun cast a golden hue upon the grounds of Rosings Park, dew glistening on the grass and leaves like precious gems. Elizabeth stood by the drawing-room window, observing Mr. Collins as he conversed with Jeremiah de Bourgh in the garden below. To her surprise, her cousin appeared to be exercising a degree of sense and restraint she had seldom witnessed in him before. The two gentlemen seemed to genuinely enjoy each other’s company, and it warmed her heart to see such an unlikely friendship blossoming.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy’s voice sounded behind her, causing her to startle slightly. “Are you well?”
