Revelations Read online

  Chapter 1

  Darcy carefully closed the front door of the parsonage behind him, he had been humiliated enough, he was not going to add to his shame by slamming it with the anger he felt. For anger was the feeling foremost on his mind, as he legged it through the little garden of the parsonage, across the road into Rosings Park.

  Didn't he have every right to be angry? Hadn't he been made a total fool of by a very young lady who was very much beneath him? She had been playing with his feelings for months, flirting shamelessly, whipping up the flame of his ardour with her witty remarks to his friends and his cousin, and her veiled allusions to himself.

  'This is one of my favourite haunts, Mr Darcy,' her very words, weren't they an invitation to meet her in the park, one he took her up on like she wanted him to, nearly sick with love and anticipation each time? Hadn't he met her there as often as he dared, keeping himself from going every day with the utmost discipline, afraid of her forming expectations of him before he was ready to commit himself, his reason still so much at discord with his feelings? How dared she encourage him if she didn't want him, despised him, actually?

  At the pace he was keeping he would back at the house in minutes, but he was not ready to face anyone right now, let alone his aunt. He took a left turn, into the very park where Miss Elizabeth Bennet invited him to walk with her, as cunningly as any city-bred lady.

  Except that was not like her at all.

  A tiny part of his enraged mind reminded him that she was not cunning, quite the opposite, she was frank and outspoken, the main reason he couldn't forget her, however much he tried. He remembered his devastating realisation almost five months ago now, that the woman who finally caused him to feel the exultation of love and the fever of passion was not a highly-

  schooled, beautiful and accomplished noble lady from his own sophisticated class, but a country girl of a very minor family, nearly ten years his junior, not even really beautiful but merely very pretty, and without formal education, just naturally gifted with supreme intelligence and an irresistible authentic charm. Within a few meetings this audacious slip of a girl had made his entire female acquaintance seem pretentious and overbearing. Yet a connection to her and her family would make his friends, family and acquaintance look at him and talk of him with pity and veiled scorn. And what would he brave the ridicule of his friends and family for? Of course he wanted an heir, children in general, and someone to finally share his baser needs with. But that was not what made the thought of Miss Elizabeth Bennet slowly take over his waking hours, to finally start invading his dreams.

  It was her mind. Her breathtaking intelligence, her sharp wit, her loving attachment to her sister and her deep enjoyment of nature and solitary walks. His deepest wish was ever to have an equal partner in life, someone he could really talk to, someone who would understand everything he said, who could relate to his innermost thoughts and feelings, whom he could discuss his ideas and opinions with. And the only woman he met, in ten years of adulthood, to ever stir his feelings like that turned out to be decidedly beneath him.

  He knew from the first there would not be another like her, but still his sense of right objected to a permanent association with her. What about his obligations to his name, to his family, could he put them aside to indulge in the selfish pursuit of finally finding personal happiness? Could he lower himself to be with the woman of his dreams? It took him months to realise that the answer was a decided 'yes', and this very evening he worked up his courage to throw away family-honour and decency and embrace for the first time the woman who he was certain loved him already, had been encouraging him steadily whenever chance threw them together. For despite his conviction of her superior mind, still he had underestimated her, judged her as if she was one of those other women, out to get his approval, his attention. He had seriously thought her encouraging towards him, aiming for his addresses.

  But as it turned out she was not flirting with him when she told him that the park, the very place where he was sitting on a little bench right now, was a

  favourite spot of hers. She meant that as a deterrent, a warning to stay away from her. And all those witty remarks during their interactions, those clever, rather impertinent observations about his wanting to hate everyone, or not taking the trouble to get acquainted to anyone. She meant those, too. He thought them stimulating, encouraging even, and all this time she really meant to insult him, thought him overly proud, even arrogant. Had any man ever been more thoroughly humiliated by the woman he loved? No, she hadn't humiliated him, he managed to do that all by himself, he realised now that she had always made her dislike of him very clear, but the idea of his growing yearning for her not being mutual had never even entered his mind.

  His anger fading slowly, reasoned away by the hard facts his mind forced him to accept, shame and despair started to fight for dominance. Better to choose despair for now, shame could be faced in company, but he would not show his disappointed hopes in front of his aunt and his cousin Anne.

  As he allowed himself to truly feel the pain of his rejection, remembered her beautiful face expressing her anger, her biting accusations, her harsh judgement on his person, a heartfelt moan did escape his lips, and he sat gasping for breath for a few moments. Why?

  Why must he love a woman who hated him? He had waited for ten years to finally find someone whom he could be happy with, and she hated him.

  Undoubtedly hated him even worse for what had happened tonight. To think he went to the little parsonage in the conviction that she would likely allow him to kiss her for the very first time, to hold her against him for a few moments, that she would be honoured and thankful to be able to improve herself and her family, overjoyed to become the wife of one of the most desirable and respected gentlemen in the country. He expected to return to his room torn between the knowledge of being the happiest man in England, and apprehension at having to face the world with what he had done.

  And now he was sitting here in the park with his heart broken, trampled by a cold, uncaring young woman, his first and only chance at ever finding an equal partner in life come to nothing. His arms would not stay empty forever, but his heart would, the chances of his ever meeting another woman he could truly love were practically non-existent.

  Another shiver of feeling coming over him he allowed it to rack his body, clenching his fists with the pain of it, but holding back another outcry.

  Gripping the wooden seat of the bench he forced his emotion back down,

  enough of despair, enough humiliation, time to gather his dignity and move on! He decided to allow himself six months of mourning for his lost hopes, then find himself a beautiful girl of impeccable breeding, with a good temper and hopefully some sense, marry her and raise a family of his own.

  Let Miss Elizabeth Bennet moon over George Wickham, see what that would get her, let her feel humiliation and heartbreak like he was feeling now. It would serve her right for believing such abject lies about him, as if he had ever treated even the lowliest servant with less than careful consideration.

  His anger rose up once more, taking the pain away for a few blessed moments. Imagine any woman rejecting him in favour of George Wickham, the most worthless man alive. It was enough to make one's blood boil, the thought of Wickham always was, but now, the image of Miss Elizabeth vehemently defending him, it couldn't be borne. She must know the truth.

  Not only to save her from him, but also to clear his own name, he would avoid meeting her from now on of course, and she hated him like poison, but still he could not bear the idea of her thinking that Fitzwilliam Darcy would ever stoop to robbing anyone of his legal inheritance, not even George Wickham.

  It was bad enough he let himself quarrel with her as if they were both spoiled children. H
ow quickly she got him to lose his temper, maybe that only proved it would be better this way, separated from her forever. The difference in station between them was clearly too huge to ever be conquered, if she couldn't understand his motives to have tried his utmost to resist her attraction, how could they be together?

  But how would he ever face her to tell her the truth about Wickham? She hated him and would never hear him out. And even if she would agree to listen to him, she'd never believe him, Wickham told her a bunch of lies no doubt, and with Darcy's own reserved manners and Miss Elizabeth's prejudice against him, how could he avoid making things worse, getting hurt even worse? Facing her was out of the question, it would be a punishment to her, and torture to himself.

  Ask cousin Fitzwilliam? Miss Elizabeth liked his cousin, would listen to him, and Darcy realised he would tell Fitzwilliam about his blighted hopes anyway, even now his grief was already too large a burden to keep to himself altogether, it would gnaw at his insides until he wouldn't be able to

  lead his life in any semblance of sanity anymore. But to let his cousin do his own dirty work, that would be utterly shameful.

  Thinking of Fitzwilliam he decided to pay him a visit straight away, maybe he knew how to cure a broken heart. In total silence Darcy found his way into the house and to his cousin's door. As he knocked on the door Fitzwilliam's voice called to come in, and Darcy opened the door and entered. Taking a single look at him, his cousin said, 'Something's up, Darcy, I can tell by your very look. Not Georgiana I hope?'

  Shaking his head, momentarily unable to speak, Darcy sat down on the first available chair, face in his hands.

  'Will you trust me with what happened, Darcy?' Fitzwilliam asked feelingly.

  Even though they were good friends he had never seen Darcy look this distraught.

  'That is exactly what I hoped you'd ask, Fitzwilliam, or I wouldn't have disturbed you at this time of night. I need to tell someone or go mad slowly.'

  Darcy found it very difficult to speak of the humiliating scene.

  'Tonight, I went to the parsonage and asked Miss Elizabeth Bennet to accept my hand in marriage.'

  After he got that out he fell silent once more.

  Cousin Fitzwilliam nodded in acknowledgement and observed, 'I can't say I'm surprised to hear you say you admire Miss Eliza, Darcy. You did behave a bit peculiarly around her these last three weeks. But from the look on your face I'd say you met with great lack of success, or you would be smiling and demanding my congratulations instead of sitting there all curled up like a whipped dog. I'm sorry to see you in so much pain. Will you tell me what happened? It might bring a little relief.'

  And Darcy gave his cousin a full and honest account of everything that had been said and done, and the colonel shook his head incredulously in places, and nodded in sympathy in others. For Darcy was no less eloquent to his cousin on the subject of his pride and his shame towards his family than he had been to Miss Elizabeth, and Colonel Fitzwilliam had real trouble hiding his incomprehension from his sympathetic but in matters of love obviously rather misguided cousin: why would he tell the woman he loved things like that? How would it make her want to marry him?

  It was clear Darcy truly loved Miss Eliza, had in fact even determined she was the only possible wife for him, and Fitzwilliam had never seen him in

  love before, so in Darcy's case this might very well be true. He totally agreed with Darcy's choice, Miss Eliza was very desirable to himself as well, had he been as independent as his cousin he would not have hardened his heart against her from the start, and he would have very likely allowed himself to fall in love with her. But he would have proposed to her as a gentleman should, and before that he would have wooed her with loving attention and growing tenderness.

  For how could Darcy have fancied himself loved by Miss Eliza? How could he not have noticed her dislike of him? It was so obvious to the colonel that he actually thought his cousin Darcy's pensiveness in Miss Eliza's presence was caused by his regret to have someone for whom he nursed a distinct fancy talk to him with such animosity and such willingness to hurt him.

  To the colonel it had been pretty obvious Darcy looked at Miss Eliza with interest, but to her it must have come as a total surprise, Darcy expressed his ardour so subtly that only someone who knew him really well, like himself, could have seen it. To her, his proposal must have caught her totally off guard.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam decided not to pain his cousin further with elaborations on the unsuitability of his manners towards Miss Eliza, Darcy needed to find that out for himself, or he'd never learn and get angry at Fitzwilliam into the bargain. So, the only thing he could do for Darcy was to try to comfort him as best he could, which was not very much, for it was clear the poor chap was feeling his loss badly and was coping by retreating even further into his own world, gathering his dignity and pride around him instead of trying to find the reason for his rejection at least partly within himself.

  Having quite a fancy for Miss Eliza himself, Colonel Fitzwilliam knew what Darcy must be feeling, she was a superior creature and he commended his cousin's exquisite taste in women. He was also well-able to imagine Darcy's disappointment at losing every chance of winning her, and learning of her ill-opinion.

  In fact, as Fitzwilliam had contemplated ever since noticing his cousin's preference, Darcy and Miss Eliza would make a very good couple indeed, but if Darcy's behaviour to Miss Eliza as he observed it the last few weeks was an indication of his behaviour to her throughout their acquaintance, so reserved, so haughty, Fitzwilliam didn't wonder at her dislike of him. And with the added offence of his arrogance and his insults towards her family

  during his proposal, and the knowledge of Darcy's betrayal of her sister, which Miss Eliza unfortunately heard from Fitzwilliam himself, there was no way in which she would ever allow Darcy the chance to show her that he was actually a very kind and generous man, just reserved towards strangers, and apparently even more so to a woman he had grown to love but didn't know how to talk to with any spontaneity. The colonel actually felt sorry for him, Darcy had been alone for such a long time, always having women chase him for his fortune, eager to find approval in his behaviour towards them, seeking his favour with determination, small wonder he finally gave his heart to the one woman who challenged him, and piqued him. If Miss Eliza only knew the real Mr Darcy she might very well be able to love him, but as matters were now that would never be.

  An idea was taking shape in the colonel's mind and he proposed it to Darcy.

  'Darcy, why don't you write a letter to explain yourself, tell her the truth about George Wickham, apologise for interfering between Miss Eliza's sister and your friend? Then you can name me as your witness that you aren't lying about Wickham's true nature? I'll visit her myself before we leave to enable her to consult me.'

  He'd also tell her what Darcy was really like as opposed to the man she had seen so far, hoping to convince her to at least allow Darcy to show her that he was not the arrogant, disdainful man she held him for.

  'I dare flatter myself that I have gained some influence with Miss Eliza, Darcy, we've grown quite close in the last few weeks, I'm certain I will be able to convince her that you did not harm George Wickham.'

  And he'd also tell her Darcy was truly worth knowing, that he was actually a very generous man with the potential for strong feelings. He'd even dig up some childhood memories of Darcy's past kindness to little George, how he always used to insist on including him, and cousin Anne, in their rough-and-tumble, and their excursions in the Pemberley neighbourhood. That was the right thing to do, get Darcy to write a letter, then talk to Miss Eliza after she had read it, beg her to reconsider his cousin.

  And with that resolution the colonel suppressed a stab of envy, he knew Miss Eliza liked him, might even have considered marrying him. He wouldn't care in the least about any lack of connections or want of sense of her family if he truly loved a woman, but without an independent income he could only marry a woman with a fo
rtune of her own. So he planned to

  ignore his own wishes, exert himself for his cousin, try to make up a little for his blunder of having unwittingly told her about Darcy's interference between her sister and Mr Bingley.

  Darcy was quite willing to let his cousin convince him to write an explanatory letter to Miss Elizabeth, first thing tomorrow, when his current anger had had some time to cool off.

  'You do not want to rile her up even more, remember. I can imagine the two of you will never meet again, but you want her to stop hating you nonetheless. You're a good man, Darcy, never doubt that. And talk to me when you're in pain, I know what you've lost.'

  His cousin's words did not make Darcy's pain any less, but somehow it was easier to bear, knowing someone close to him was aware of what had happened. And maybe even a little more.

  'You sound as if you truly understand, Fitzwilliam.'

  'I do, Darcy,' his cousin replied, 'if I had your independence we would have been rivals from the moment I met Miss Eliza. As it is, I feel a similar regret, only I was aware from the very start she was not for me. You know I cannot marry without attention to money.'

  'You've only known her for two weeks, I've ached for her for months. But was it just money stopping you?'

  The colonel couldn't help laughing and observed with some determination,

  'For a woman like her I'd drop all my friends and family. I don't value birth as much as you do, Darcy. Tell me, what did you ever do to earn your position in life? You just happened to be born in the right family and without an older brother. It's all just coincidence, her lower stature does not make her less valuable as a person. I'd marry her in a second, but as it is I guarded my heart well, so as not to suffer disappointment.'

  Darcy had never seen it that way, even felt a bit offended by the suggestion that he hadn't done anything to deserve his respectability in life, and retorted, 'I work hard to make sure everyone on my estate is happy and well cared for.'

  But his cousin would not have that.