Page 69 of Knowing Mr. Darcy
“I am only saying that, if you knew him, you would understand that he’s simply not that way. He’s a good man.”
“Yes, and we just got done saying that you think too well of everyone.”
“And you just got done admitting that you can’t be sure that Mr. Darcy is not the one lying.”
Elizabeth bowed her head. “You won’t elope with him, Jane?”
“You wish me to promise this?”
“Oh, Lord.” Elizabeth squeezed her hands into fists and released them.
It was quiet.
“If he made mistakes in the past,” said Jane, “he’s different now.”
“You’re going to go, aren’t you? Is it tonight? Is he coming back for you tonight?”
“Are you going to prevent it? Will you go out and tell everyone what I am up to?”
Elizabeth felt miserable.
“Think, Lizzy, if Mr. Darcy had asked you to elope with him this night. What would you wish from me?”
This went through her like a jolt, for she knew that if this had occurred, that she wouldn’t have even talked to Jane about it. She would be, even now, in a carriage with Mr. Darcy, likely in his lap, likely doing even more shocking things with her tongue. She looked down at the floor. “I shall keep your secret, Jane, but not forever. Once others have discovered you are gone, I shall let them know what has taken place. I only hope, by then, you are well on your way to Scotland.”
“Thank you, Lizzy,” breathed Jane, reaching out to take her hands again.
“I hope you do not regret this forever,” said Elizabeth in a quiet voice. And she thought, heavily, of what Mr. Darcy would think when he knew that her sister had marriedMr. Wickham.
He would not be pleased.
THERE WAS Aletter from Mr. Darcy in the morning. It said that he would have stopped to see her before he left for Hertfordshire, but that he wanted to be on his way and back that day, and he would have been too distracted by her to ever leave her if he had.
She was exhausted, having tossed and turned all night, thinking of Jane and Wickham, but the letter made her smile.
She read it again and again, thinking that he had remarkably even handwriting, and wishing she had gone tohim, somehow, last night, and told him about Jane and Wickham. She had not. He would have put an end to it all, and she was positive of that. She thought maybe it should have been put an end to, but she also didn’t wish to destroy her sister’s happiness in one fell swoop.
Mr. Darcy had said that wretched thing about all of the men in her path proposing marriage, and it wasn’t true, but there was some truth to it. Mr. Bingley had been interested in her. Colonel Fitzwilliam had asked her to marry him. Even Mr. Wickham, when she first met him, had said that thing to her.
This, Lizzy, is why you don’t want him for Jane, and be honest about it.
Well, she was never going to reveal that to Jane. It was cruel, for her to think that the man who wanted to marry her had been looking at Elizabeth first.
Elizabeth wondered at it. She had never thought herself pretty, and her mother had insisted, over and over again, that she was the worst of the sisters in every way. Of course, she’d always been her father’s favorite, and there was no way she could quite deny that. Had she been beautiful all along? Had she simply not realized it?
Elizabeth wanted to go and look at herself in the mirror and try to confirm her beauty, but she dismissed this as vain. Besides, this was not the thing to be worrying about. Jane’s absence was. Once everyone discovered she wasn’t here, that was when things would change.
But Jane had told the maid that she felt poorly the night before and asked if she could please not be disturbed and allowed to lie in that day. So, it was anyone’s guess when someone would look in on her, but Elizabeth thought it might not be until noon. She didn’t say anything at all. She read her letter and worried.
Morning was the time that she and Jane would usually go on their walks. She thought it might look strange if she decided not to go at all, so she left the parsonage, but she did not walk far. She simply found a bench and sat there, staring off at the sky and twisting her hands together, worrying.
“You are hiding from me, so I suppose it can’t be good news.”
Startled, she looked up to find the colonel behind her. She got up. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, you snuck up on me.”
“Sorry,” he said, with a crooked sort of smile. “I don’t know what’s become of Darcy this morning either. However, I can imagine.”
“He went on horseback to speak to my father,” she said.
