Read Online A Pemberley Medley (A Pride & Prejudice Variation) by Abigail Reynolds - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Abigail Reynolds
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he has the misfortune to know Wickham quite well, and can confirm all the particulars. Good day, Miss Bennet.” He slapped his hat on his head and strode toward the door, turning only once for a last, long look.
Elizabeth was still shaken when Charlotte returned. When asked what was the matter, she said, “I believe you were right about Mr. Darcy’s interest in me.”
Charlotte beamed. “What wonderful news! A brilliant match, indeed.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I fear not. I have thoroughly discouraged him. We have quarrelled twice now. He will not be back.”
“ Discouraged him? Eliza, are you out of your mind? Think of the advantages of such a marriage!”
Elizabeth took Charlotte’s basket from her and set it on the table. “Dearest Charlotte, you know I have always wished to marry for affection. All the advantages in the world mean nothing to me next to his abominable pride and manners. I could never love such a man.”
Charlotte sank down in a chair and closed her eyes. “Sometimes I forget how young you are, Eliza. How can you look at Jane and still believe love is a good thing? Certainly, it can be wonderful for a brief moment, but more often it causes nothing but pain.” The bitterness in her voice could not be missed.
“Just because Mr. Bingley did not prove to be the gentleman we believed him to be….”
Charlotte shook his head. “Wait until you fall in love. You will learn there is nothing that can hurt you more. I would never wish to be in love again.”
Charlotte in love? “Again? Have you been keeping secrets from me?”
“I should not have mentioned it. You were still a child when it happened.”
“But what happened?”
“There is nothing to tell. I fell in love with a gentleman, a young acquaintance of my father who was always kind to me, but I discovered he cared for someone else. That is the whole of my experience with love, but it was enough to show me the dangers. You cannot imagine the pain of being rejected by someone you love. Have you ever seen Jane in such low spirits?”
“No, I have not.” Elizabeth suddenly recollected the look on Mr. Darcy’s face, just before he left her. Did he feel the kind of distress Charlotte had, or Jane? Quarrelling with him had seemed such an excellent solution, but she had never considered how he might feel. She had accused him of ignoring her sister’s sensibilities, yet she herself ignored his. If Mr. Bingley had treated Jane so, her sister would have been devastated. Oh, why had she not been more gentle in her attempts to dissuade Mr. Darcy from pursuing his suit? She was no better than he in that regard.
Charlotte stood and rubbed her hands together. “But it is all no matter. Love comes to nothing in the end, and life goes on.” She left the room quickly, before Elizabeth could respond.
But Charlotte’s words continued to echo through Elizabeth’s mind. After walking herself into exhaustion on the muddy footpaths of Rosings Park, she perched on the wobbly footstool outside the parsonage’s kitchen door to shake off the worst of the dirt from her petticoats and half-boots. She began to scrape the soles of her boots along the bristle-brush left there for that purpose.
A woman’s low laughter came from kitchen. Elizabeth recognized the voice of Mary, the maidservant. In her broad Kentish accent she said, “He may be a fine gentleman indeed, but I would not choose to serve such a stern master, no, indeed, I should not!”
“That is all for show,” a man’s voice replied. “In private he is quite different. If I must be in service, I can think of no better master than Mr. Darcy. He treats us with kindness and generosity, and never makes unreasonable demands. My last master, now, if the mood took him, he would rage at me and blame me for everything, but not Mr. Darcy. If aught troubles him, he just keeps to himself. Almost never does he have a
Elizabeth was still shaken when Charlotte returned. When asked what was the matter, she said, “I believe you were right about Mr. Darcy’s interest in me.”
Charlotte beamed. “What wonderful news! A brilliant match, indeed.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I fear not. I have thoroughly discouraged him. We have quarrelled twice now. He will not be back.”
“ Discouraged him? Eliza, are you out of your mind? Think of the advantages of such a marriage!”
Elizabeth took Charlotte’s basket from her and set it on the table. “Dearest Charlotte, you know I have always wished to marry for affection. All the advantages in the world mean nothing to me next to his abominable pride and manners. I could never love such a man.”
Charlotte sank down in a chair and closed her eyes. “Sometimes I forget how young you are, Eliza. How can you look at Jane and still believe love is a good thing? Certainly, it can be wonderful for a brief moment, but more often it causes nothing but pain.” The bitterness in her voice could not be missed.
“Just because Mr. Bingley did not prove to be the gentleman we believed him to be….”
Charlotte shook his head. “Wait until you fall in love. You will learn there is nothing that can hurt you more. I would never wish to be in love again.”
Charlotte in love? “Again? Have you been keeping secrets from me?”
“I should not have mentioned it. You were still a child when it happened.”
“But what happened?”
“There is nothing to tell. I fell in love with a gentleman, a young acquaintance of my father who was always kind to me, but I discovered he cared for someone else. That is the whole of my experience with love, but it was enough to show me the dangers. You cannot imagine the pain of being rejected by someone you love. Have you ever seen Jane in such low spirits?”
“No, I have not.” Elizabeth suddenly recollected the look on Mr. Darcy’s face, just before he left her. Did he feel the kind of distress Charlotte had, or Jane? Quarrelling with him had seemed such an excellent solution, but she had never considered how he might feel. She had accused him of ignoring her sister’s sensibilities, yet she herself ignored his. If Mr. Bingley had treated Jane so, her sister would have been devastated. Oh, why had she not been more gentle in her attempts to dissuade Mr. Darcy from pursuing his suit? She was no better than he in that regard.
Charlotte stood and rubbed her hands together. “But it is all no matter. Love comes to nothing in the end, and life goes on.” She left the room quickly, before Elizabeth could respond.
But Charlotte’s words continued to echo through Elizabeth’s mind. After walking herself into exhaustion on the muddy footpaths of Rosings Park, she perched on the wobbly footstool outside the parsonage’s kitchen door to shake off the worst of the dirt from her petticoats and half-boots. She began to scrape the soles of her boots along the bristle-brush left there for that purpose.
A woman’s low laughter came from kitchen. Elizabeth recognized the voice of Mary, the maidservant. In her broad Kentish accent she said, “He may be a fine gentleman indeed, but I would not choose to serve such a stern master, no, indeed, I should not!”
“That is all for show,” a man’s voice replied. “In private he is quite different. If I must be in service, I can think of no better master than Mr. Darcy. He treats us with kindness and generosity, and never makes unreasonable demands. My last master, now, if the mood took him, he would rage at me and blame me for everything, but not Mr. Darcy. If aught troubles him, he just keeps to himself. Almost never does he have a
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