The Journey (24 page)

“Many people marry without love. Do you not think it might naturally come about if you consented to be his wife? He does not appear to dislike you.”

“I cannot enter into such an unequal union.”

“Are not all marriages unequal? The husband is always the head over the wife, you know that.”

“I am aware of the law, but I refer to something entirely different.”

“What is it?”

“I shall not marry a man who does not love me when I know that I have fallen desperately in love with him.”

“Oh, dearest!” Jane pulled me close and allowed me to weep upon her shoulder once again.

“I want to go home — home to Longbourn where I am safe.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “Surely Father will take us tomorrow if we but ask.”

He did not, however. We were to remain in London for some time to come.

Chapter Eleven

The next day was Sunday, and as was the custom in my uncle’s house, the entire household, including the servants, met for morning prayers. My uncle chose a passage from Proverbs for his reading. I sat next to Jane on the sofa, still sleepy from the night before, my eyes swollen from weeping. I confess I had a difficult time concentrating on the text, and my mind strayed until I heard the following words:

“There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which I know not: the way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man with a maid.”

The way of a man with a maid.
Instantly I felt Mr. Darcy’s arms around me. I remembered his mouth caressing mine and how easily he had taken command of my senses. Yes, the writer spoke the truth. It was too wonderful to comprehend. And then I felt abashed that my mind had wandered so far from the scripture and to a scene that should have caused me shame. I willed myself to return to the present and heed my uncle’s reading.

“For three things the earth is disquieted, and for four it cannot bear: a servant when he reigneth; a fool when he is filled with meat; an unloved woman when she is married; and a handmaid that is heir to her mistress.”

An unloved woman when she is married.
Once again, I was struck with the revelation of wisdom and the way my uncle’s choice in scripture applied to my life. I knew with certainty that neither the earth nor I could bear marriage to Mr. Darcy, knowing I was unloved.

Tears began to well up within me, and I kept my gaze lowered, thankful that we were now praying. I blinked several times, and with the final amen, I was able to restrain the signs of emotion stirred up by my thoughts.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, along with Jane and the children, left for church services shortly thereafter. My father had already said he and I would not attend because, in my present state, he felt I did not need the added burden of prying eyes.

As soon as they walked out the door, he asked me to accompany him into my uncle’s study. He sat down upon the tapestry-covered divan and patted the place next to him, indicating that I should join him.

“Now, Lizzy,” he said, taking my hand, “I am not about to scold you or even admonish you for your decision, although heaven help us when your mother hears that I have permitted you to refuse another proposal. You and I may have to take up residence in the stable when we return to Longbourn.”

“Oh, Father, I do not care. Let us return home this very day, and I shall gladly move into the barn.”

“Yes, well, let us hope it does not come to that. But I must ask why, Lizzy? Tell me the reason you have refused to marry Mr. Darcy. I know he is a proud, disagreeable man and has never paid proper attentions to you, but you are a sensible girl, able to overlook such slights and make the practical decision when called upon. I am afraid you will suffer for this, my dear, much more than you can imagine.”

I lowered my head and chewed my lip. “Perhaps, but I cannot marry him.”

“So he is a man of low character after all. Wickham’s wild tales have merit?”

“Oh no, Papá. Mr. Wickham’s inventions were just that — pure invention. Mr. Darcy possesses sterling character traits. He is generous, courageous, compassionate, and honest. He is not guilty of Mr. Wickham’s accusations.”

I had looked about the room as I talked, but when my eyes settled upon those of my father’s, I saw the furrow in his brow deepen.

“From this account, I would believe you think highly of the man. What on earth would make you refuse him?”

“I pray you do not demand an answer.” My eyes filled with tears in spite of my best efforts as I gazed upon his anxious countenance. I hated to cause him worry. “Trust me when I say I have made the right decision.”

He studied my expression for some time, but at last he patted my hand again, leaned over, and kissed my forehead.

“Very well, have it your way. I could never refuse you anything, and I will not cause you more distress.”

“And shall we go home today?”

“Not today, dear. You forget it is Sunday, and the coaches will not be available until the morrow, but first thing in the morning, I shall secure our tickets, and you and Jane and I shall leave on the mid-day excursion.”

“Thank you, Papá.” I kissed his cheek and, rising, selected a book from my uncle’s shelves before leaving the room.

“Lizzy,” he said before I reached the door, “I think you should know. Mr. Darcy said he would not make any announcement to the press and advised that we refrain from doing so, as well. The more time that elapses before it is made known that there will not be a wedding, the better it will be for you.”

I nodded. That was kind of Mr. Darcy. He could have published it in the papers first thing — I knew that well — but once again, he attempted to protect me. Ah, well, I would leave London tomorrow and put all of it behind me.

* * *

We spent the remainder of the day quietly. My aunt and uncle returned from church with Jane and the children, and we sat down to a pork roast with all the trimmings. Jane had evidently told my relations enough that they did not question me as to my decision. I was grateful for their acceptance and understanding.

Indeed, I had a new appreciation for my family. I had always loved them dearly, but since returning, I felt their worth even more. I could hardly wait to see Mamá and my younger sisters, even though I had oft times done whatever I could to escape their presence. How easily we took each other for granted.

Jane and I took turns reading to the children that afternoon so that my aunt might take a nap. No matter how we tried, we could not persuade the two older children to lie down and rest. Both of them proclaimed they were too big for such babyish habits. The little ones, however, soon fell asleep, and Jane took our older cousins for a walk in the park. I would have gone with them but for the ever-present reporters still lurking outside the front door.

I meandered about the house, picked up several books and attempted to read, but could find nothing that held my interest. More than once, I wandered to the window, pulling the curtains back to peer outside.

What was I looking for? Did I expect to see Mr. Darcy come driving up, now ready to declare his undying love? Of course not. I knew without a doubt I should most likely never see him again, and the very thought made my heart ache.

Returning to my bedchamber, I lay down, vowing that I would take a long afternoon nap, but sleep would not come. Each time I closed my eyes I saw him standing there, that haunting expression about his eyes just before he walked out the door last night. What had it meant? Why could he not express his feelings? Why had I fallen in love with such a mysterious man, one of whose emotions I could never be sure?

You must listen to his words.
The thought went around and around my mind.
He kissed you and termed it a mistake.
There was no getting past that.

The remainder of the day crawled by. Jane and I packed our belongings that evening, and I could hardly wait for the morning to dawn. The sooner I left London, the sooner I could begin my life anew. Once I left Town, I could forget all that had happened. How I longed to see Hertfordshire again!

The next day, however, I learned that my desires were in vain.

Shortly after breakfast, Firkin announced that there were visitors from the constable’s office in the parlour awaiting the presence of my father and me. Papá had already left the house to secure our tickets for the post, and so my uncle took his place. He did not want the callers to have to wait for my father’s return. He declared it would not signify if he arrived late at his own office.

Two middle-aged men greeted us, one dressed in uniform, the other in civilian clothing, holding his hat in his hands. My uncle introduced me and asked their business, whereupon they informed us that they were to hold an enquiry for the magistrate’s office, and they desired to question me as to what had occurred during the entirety of the kidnapping and robbery. They also said my presence would be required in London until after the trial of Morgan and his gang.

“Certainly,” my uncle answered after first glancing at me, “my niece will give you whatever information is necessary, but I do not understand why after doing so, she must stay in Town.”

“The court,” the man in civilian clothes explained, “must have the right to question you, Miss Bennet, during the actual trial proceedings. We are here today to gain whatever testimony you wish to give regarding the crimes before the case is heard.”

My uncle immediately asked if I would have to testify publicly, and we were assured that would be unlikely, that Mr. Darcy’s presence would be sufficient, along with that of the menservants from Mr. Bingley’s carriage and any other witnesses the gentleman wished to call. If at all possible, none of the ladies — Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, nor I — would be forced to submit to the indignities of a public trial. They, however, would not rule out the remote prospect.

I must have appeared stricken at the thought, for the man hastened to assure me that such occasion rarely came about. He then began to question me in detail about the entire situation, scribbling my answers upon an untidy wad of papers he had pulled from a faded brown satchel.

I told him everything I knew. In truth, I was glad to have the opportunity to relate what background I knew about Morgan. I hoped it would make things go easier for him. I took special pains to make certain they learned that he had provided for Mr. Darcy’s and my comfort and arranged for our release.

“Exactly how did this Morgan fellow make things comfortable for you?” the man asked. “According to Mr. Darcy, you were held in primitive conditions.”

“We were, but when I asked for water and a blanket, Morgan saw that we received it.”

“Water and bedding could hardly be termed luxuries.”

“No, but the others — Sneyd, in particular — would have denied us even those necessities. And did Mr. Darcy tell you how Morgan protected me from Sneyd’s advances?”

The man glanced at his uniformed companion and shook his head.

I briefly described the incident wherein Sneyd had attempted to force himself upon me and then told of Morgan’s rescue. I omitted the fact that Sneyd had touched me, and I did not feel it necessary to include the way Morgan had carried me back to the cabin. After all, I was not under oath, and neither fact was pertinent. When he asked if that was all, I nodded.

Much more had happened. Morgan had given me wine and a place at his table. He had danced with me and attempted to kiss me, but I would not reveal any of that. The man was in enough trouble. I did not wish to add to his woes.

At length, the official folded his papers and stuffed them inside the satchel. The men rose and thanked us for our time and cooperation. As they reached the door about to depart, the man in uniform turned back with one final question.

“Miss Bennet, might you know the date Mr. Darcy plans to return?”

“Return?” I could not make out what he meant.

“Yes, return to London.”

“No, I cannot tell you. I did not know he had left Town.”

“Is that so? I would have thought he would have told you, of all people. Yes, he left yesterday without telling his sister when he would return. She was quite vague about it all. ’Tis strange that no one can give us an answer. If he does call upon you before we see him, make certain he knows he is bound under the law just as you are. He must remain in Town until after the trial.

“And when might that proceeding occur?” my uncle asked.

“It is set for shortly after the beginning of the new year,” the man replied.

After the New Year! I could not believe it would take so long. That was weeks away. I did not recall the men taking their leave or walking out the door. My mind was far too occupied with the dismal thought that I could not go home to Longbourn for a good three weeks or longer!

My father returned to the house shortly thereafter and found me with Jane and my aunt and uncle in the parlour discussing the change in events. He, naturally, was surprised and somewhat dismayed that I could not accompany him that day.

“I shall have to return this ticket for a refund,” he said slowly.