Page 58 of Resilience

Chapter Twenty-Five

Friday 24 April 1812

Elizabeth stood in front of Hawthorne Vale just after dawn and said farewell to her father.

“You will not consider what you owe to your parents, and return home, Lizzy?” Mr Bennet asked as he stood before his carriage.

“Perhaps I will, one day. If my parents ever recall the love and affection they owe to me,” she answered, a sob in her throat. She was in misery. She resented him so much, even now, for his cruelty. And at the same time, she wished to throw herself into his arms and beg him to be as they once were, but she knew that something had changed between herself and her father forever. She could never trust him to care about her happiness or what was best for her again, and she was not finished being furious about it.

“You must know that I always intended the last five thousand of the investment to be yours once your mother dies,” Mr Bennet confessed. “I ought not have been so unkind. I thought you would fare better than your sisters. They would not make it unmarried, Lizzy, but you will. You will have their support, and one day, you will have six thousand from your mother.”

“If you say so, Papa.” Elizabeth stepped back from his attempt to hug her. Then, wracked with guilt in case she never saw him again, she rushed forward and threw her arms around his neck.

“Goodbye, Papa.” Tears; cruel, hot tears betrayed her and spilled down her cheeks as she stepped back again, then turned immediately and fled within the house, and back up the stairs.

She was meant to meet Mr Darcy in the fields for their walk, but in her grief, Elizabeth could not think of her plans. She threw herself upon her bed, and wept for the father she had lost, the mother who had never been particularly kind, but indeed had the potential for worse treatment. She wept for Jane and the years Elizabeth had spent foolishly believing she was more than a prop to hold her sister up, that was, only until Jane was in possession of all of her dreams. She wept for Mary, who had been sent away by her father for being tedious, and for Kitty, who had been treated like an extension of Lydia her entire life, and even for Lydia. Poor, ignorant Lydia. Sixteen years of age and freezing in the cold, damp, north with a frightful scoundrel for a husband. Without even proper linens for her bed. Most of all, Elizabeth wept for herself, the self she was a year ago when nothing had changed, when she was carefree, and still believed that for all of their faults, that their family cared for one another and would always be there for each other. She sobbed until she was quite exhausted, and eventually fell asleep across her bed.

“Lizzy, Lizzy, are you all right?” Kitty shook her awake two hours later.

“What?” Elizabeth blinked in confusion and sat up. “Is something wrong?”

“Is she in there?” Elizabeth heard Darcy’s voice from outside the door. He sounded alarmed.

“She is here, Mr Darcy, just a moment!” Kitty turned back to Elizabeth. “When you did not appear for your walk, Mr Darcy went to the stables and questioned the groom. When he learned that Mr Bennet departed, he panicked. He feared you were compelled to leave against your will. He followed us all the way to your bedroom in terror for your safety.”

“Oh! I did not mean to fall asleep! I kept him waiting all of this time! I was so upset when Papa left, I did not think!” Elizabeth rushed from the bed and into the hall where Darcy was pacing the hall with Denny in agitation, smoothing her hair as she went.

“You frightened your suitor quite thoroughly.” Matthew smiled indulgently.

Kitty followed Elizabeth into the hall. “Lizzy, there is still a proper breakfast laid in the breakfast room, would you like to speak with Mr Darcy there? Everyone else has quite finished, and James is waiting for you to clear it all away.”

Elizabeth’s sister clasped her husband’s hand and left them in the hall. Elizabeth turned to Darcy in the dim light and said, “I beg your pardon, Mr Darcy. I was overcome with grief when my father left. I know it is silly, he has been so unkind, and yet–”

“Do not be sorry for loving your father, Elizabeth.” Darcy stopped her. “You have nothing to apologise for. I am only relieved that you are safe.”

She smiled. “I am well. Perhaps you will forgive me, after breakfast and our promised walk?”

“It will take more than that to make it up to me, Elizabeth.” His voice was suddenly serious.

“Oh really? What shall it take?” she teased lightheartedly. “How about a jar of Mrs Philpot’s gooseberry marmalade?”

“I think you should spend the rest of your life making it up to me,” he said seriously. “Do you not think so? I waited for more than an hour and a half!”

“Heavens! More than an hour and a half?” Elizabeth covered her mouth in mock concern. “That is appalling!”

“I agree.” Darcy nodded solemnly. “In fact, I believe for you to commit to the endeavour properly, you shall have to move to Pemberley and devote your life to it.”

“Shall I?” Elizabeth’s breath caught. One moment they were engaged in teasing flirtation, and now suddenly the conversation, for all of its lightness, was now quite serious. Does he really mean…

Darcy fell to one knee and took her hand. “Will you come to Pemberley and be my wife? I cannot bear not having you close, not keeping you safe myself. I despise every moment we spend apart, every moment I do net spend taking care of you as you deserve. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

Darcy was overcome with joy, and kissed her tenderly, but briefly. They were, after all, in the middle of the corridor. “Would you like to tell your sister and Denny right away?”

“James is waiting to clear away breakfast,” Elizabeth answered. “And I am famished. You must be as well! Let us go and break our fast. That will give us time to discuss our wishes before we speak to Kitty and Matthew.”

Darcy held out his hand and Elizabeth took it, learning for the first time why her sister liked holding hands with Matthew so much.