Scotch and Sirens - Lizzy and Darcy - Scotch and Sirens

Lizzy had not slept well. The more she yearned for mindless sleep the more it eluded her. Tossing and turning, she finally went and sat by the window, watching the sunrise in a crystal clear blue sky. She had half hoped she would see bad weather on the horizon, but only partially, for the other side of her wanted this hard part to be over and done. The sooner she spoke to him the sooner she would know if he would ever speak to her again.

The time passed slowly, and she was ready long before it was time to leave. She took her seat by the window once again and kept her vigil there. When it was finally reasonable to leave, she did so with a heavy heart. She resisted the temptation to look back at the house to see if her aunt were watching her go to the gallows from one of its windows, for that was where she felt she now went.

Mrs. Tournier examined her watch after her niece disappeared from sight down the path. She hoped Lizzy would not linger with her outing. Not to postpone what must be done, she called Higgins into her parlour. The housekeeper was slightly pale and not in her usual jovial smiley mood.

“Higgins,” Mrs. Tournier said in a low but tight voice, “the reason I have called you in here instead of coming to see you in the kitchen like I normally would in such an instance, is that I wish to convey the seriousness of the situation even if I end up lamenting it together with you.”

The housekeeper nodded but lifted her eyes and gave a sad smile.

“Ma’am, I did not want to cause a stir. I just thought you should know.”

“I know you did, but I definitely do not want anyone else to know. Miss Bennet is not to be compromised by your loose tongue, and I expect you to quell any malicious rumour you hear about the circumstances relayed to you by your cousin. They are quite undramatic and nothing to be made a spectacle of. You saw her yesterday; the girl is upset and suffering. That means we help her. I have no idea of your powers over Mrs. McLaughlin, but I think you should make my sentiments and the principles of this household clear to her when you see her.”

“I shall, Ma’am. She is a loyal servant and a good woman, Ma’am. She would never err in her obligation.”

“Very well. That will be all. When Miss Bennet comes back from her morning walk you may tell her I am to be found in my room and will be glad to see her.”

Darcy’s resolutions of the evening before gave him a sense of new strength that he had not felt as of late. The new goal he now saw ahead of him caused him to awake that morning with the bright emotion of joy filling his being. His thoughts were merrily dancing in his mind all the way to their meeting spot and long after he had arrived. Since Elizabeth was not there yet, he spent his time wandering nearby. He picked some forget-me-nots, daisies and pansies, which were growing between the trees, and was ready to greet her with the bouquet when she approached.

“Good morning, Miss Bennet, I allowed myself to arrange some flowers for the better start of your day. I do not know your favourites, but the unassuming charm of wild sylvan inflorescence always brings you to my mind.”

When she had drawn near him she had noted that his mood seemed high, and as he handed her the flowers she found she could not look directly at him. Bending her head and burying her nose in the spray she let out a heavy, involuntary sigh.

“I am sorry, Miss Bennet. I thought it just a simple gesture, really.”

“Your simple gesture means more to me than you can know, Mr. Darcy. It was kind and sweet and has helped to make a day, one that did not start off well, a little better. I only hope you will still be happy you gathered them for me when you have heard what I have to say,” and she finally looked up and into his eyes.

Darcy felt her tension, and his own nervousness grew. “Miss Bennet?”

She hesitated. This was so hard. She risked everything in this one talk. If she said too much he would be appalled to know her true feelings and would be sorry he had ever offered his friendship. If she said too little he would not understand that she still wished to be his friend. She feared losing him most of all, and she wished to keep him near under almost any conditions.

“Mr. Darcy, please sit with me.” She indicated some large boulders nearby. She sat on one, laying the flowers gently beside her, while he leaned against another near it.

“I do not know how to begin even, but I would ask that you listen to it all before you react to the beginning, for I fear you will not like what you hear. Will you do that for me? Will you make sure to listen to it all?”

He bent closer. “Miss Bennet, I will if that is your wish. Please, take your time and tell me everything.”

She glanced at him, trying to judge how he might now be feeling and what he must be thinking, but she had no success until he took her hand in his, and looked into her eyes warmly, encouraging her silently. She then realised his concern for her. He would comfort her even when she would now give him bad news. When he released her hand she wished it back again.

“Mr. Darcy, when I came home from our most wonderful ride yesterday, my aunt was waiting for me. Her housekeeper – a cousin to Mrs. McLaughlin, Lord Brougham's housekeeper – had informed her that we had been seen out riding together. I must take responsibility for this happening, as it was my insistence that your kind offer to teach me remain secret that has caused our rides to be left open to gossip and idle talk. My aunt has insisted that we end them, and I am sure you will agree. I did not mean to put your good name at risk.”

His anxiety grew with her every word and finally he could stand it no longer. He stood up and paced the lawn to help his thoughts find their proper course. Finally he addressed her.

“Miss Bennet, I am very sorry that you have been experiencing these troubles. Even more so knowing that unfortunately your aunt is perfectly right in her concerns about your reputation. All of your misfortune is entirely my doing. You cannot of course blame yourself, but you will be the main, if not the only victim of it nonetheless.”

She could see he was upset, but once again he surprised her by worrying over the consequences to herself, which, if any, she had been fully prepared to endure. She needed to assure him of this immediately. It was not his responsibility.

She had stood up and began to pace as well; matching his earlier actions almost step for step. Gesturing animatedly with her hands, she began to speak.

“Mr. Darcy, it is true that Mrs. McLaughlin and Mrs. Higgins are related and talk regularly, but it is not certain that it will go any further. I am prepared to take responsibility if it does, as it was my doing that caused it. If it does become widespread gossip in the community, it will only be what I deserved. I can always leave here. It would not be my choice to run away from it, but it is one solution at my disposal. Forgive me for saying this, but if I could endure the idle chatter that occurred when Lydia ran away with Wickham, I can endure this!”

At her words his agitation turned into rage. He had behaved like a fool! He had offered her his friendship, he had vowed his disinterest and yet he had used her, and for the sake of his own pleasure he had disregarded her reputation. He had no right to put her in a position with no choice. And now there was only one thing for him to do, and he knew it well. It did not matter if she could ever love him or not. He abhorred himself for his disguise. He hated the thought that she would be forced to accept him out of social circumstances, and yet he was frightened she might reject him again.

Finally he looked at her and struggled to calm his voice.

“Miss Bennet, I must beg your forgiveness, though I do not know if any forgiveness should ever be granted me. I despise myself when I think of the position you are now put in because of my behaviour and lack of responsibility. In the name of friendship, which once won should be cherished and respected above all, I took advantage of your person – looking rather for brisk pleasure than your own security.”

Without looking at her, so as not to reveal the contradicted emotions that gathered in his mind now, he paused and took a deep breath. “Miss Bennet, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

Her silence alarmed him. He looked at her now, tentatively. Waiting.

She said nothing for some moments and tried to show him the same in her actions, knowing that he was now studying her countenance most carefully, although she was sure she could not be entirely successful. She stared at the flowers he had gathered, now laying on the ground having fallen when she stood up in haste, as scattered and broken as she felt. Inside she was raging with emotion that was difficult to contain. Every part of her screamed 'yes' loudly and insistently. What did it matter that he did not love her? She could make him happy. She would be happy.

But he would not. He would be tied forever to a woman he did not love only because he acted out of a sense of honour. She could not accept. She did not know if she could say the words that were called for or if her heart would even allow it, but she must find the strength. She had to. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she could not bridge the distance between them, either the physical or the figurative.

She began to speak quietly, tenderly, and much more calmly than she felt.

“I remember what you told me about the nature of your bond of friendship. That you stand by your friends through any and every adversity. Such a friendship should be worshiped for its virtue. I hold you in the highest esteem, and the fact that you offered me your friendship is a great distinction. I cannot accept your proposal in the spirit of that same principle. I cherish our friendship as you do and cannot put it at risk by accepting.”

She had walked closer to him as she spoke, and she now reached out and put her hand on his arm. “Please understand that I would not wish to hurt you in any way. I value your friendship too much to do that.”

Darcy looked down to contain his emotions before she could observe them. His well-trained habit was of priceless help to him right now. He was disappointed, of course, but not surprised. At the same time he felt relief that she did value him as a friend and he was aware that his assurances of his friendship were crucial right now. Yet, he needed time to contain the interior trembling that her words seemed to fill his body with, before he could take her hand in his and address her in a low and steady voice.

“I do understand, of course, and I thank you for your confidence.”

He led her back to their sitting place and continued.

“Still, your reputation is at stake, and I will not rest until I know that I did everything in my power to protect it. I am afraid you are too much an optimist in assuming that if the gossip becomes widespread you will be able to avoid further unpleasantness by simply returning to Longbourn. You should be aware that if other gossip, like that about you and Mr. Collins or your sister and Wickham could reach Scotland, it could also make the return path. Therefore we should consider possible steps to prevent it. Can you tell for certain that Mrs. Higgins and Mrs. McLaughlin are the only two persons who know?”

She was both relieved and strangely disappointed that he seemed to take it so well. She did not want him to be hurt, but she did not want him to recover so quickly either. It only served to confirm that he felt nothing more for her than she had thought, putting any lingering hopes to rest. He was probably most happy to not have to marry her even though he would have done it all the same. She now listened carefully, concentrating with great effort, not able to recover as quickly as he seemed to.

“I am not even sure if Mrs. McLaughlin knows. My aunt would not give me all of the details,” and she blushed at the reminder of the one detail she did know. “Only that it was yesterday and that Mrs. Higgins told her. It is probable that Mrs. McLaughlin would know too, as they are related and talk frequently. It may have even been that woman who saw us on her way for a visit. But my aunt trusts Mrs. Higgins. I think she will have dealt with her.”

She breathed deeply and continued to try and calm herself while she waited for him to reply.

Darcy felt even more guilt thinking about his previous satisfaction of their ride yesterday. He shuddered with disgust at the thought of his hypocrisy.

“Yes, I am sure your aunt will deal with Mrs. Higgins. However, if you do not mind I would talk to Mrs. McLaughlin. I know her to be a reasonable woman, and the fact that she is granted Brougham’s trust does her credit. But she might not see anything improper in our behaviour, especially if she was under the impression that there was a kind of understanding between you and me, and so she might share such an observation with someone else unwittingly. I think it would be better to confront her rather than not, and preferably as soon as possible.

“Also, I must ask something of you.”

He delicately squeezed her hand and looked into her eyes.

“Promise me, that if you ever have any suspicions that someone else might have learnt about it, you will let me know at once.”

How could she not love this man who took such care and trouble in ensuring that she would not suffer? How giving and unselfish he was! If she could not have him as a husband, she would truly cherish him as a most special and valued friend always. If it were the last thing she did, she would protect him from whatever harm she could even if it might eventually mean removing herself from his presence. But for now she could barely think straight. She was still stunned from the events of the past few minutes. Things were moving too fast for her to assimilate them and she needed time alone to think.

“I promise I will. I thank you for your help. I am sorry that you feel responsible, as I am the one to blame, truly, although I know you will not agree. I think I must go now, but I would wish you to know one last thing for certain,” and she shyly looked at her hands. “I do not regret the time we spent riding. It was lovely and allowed me to get to know you better.” She turned to leave.

“Miss Bennet, please, do not go yet.” He grasped her hand again and looked deeply into her eyes. “You are not responsible, and I beg you not to think so.” He then held her hand tenderly and kissed it. “It was a great pleasure to have your company,” he said moving his sight from her hand to her eyes, “and if I do not ask too much, I would like to continue our acquaintance. I understand that the lessons are out of the question since your aunt objects, but would you welcome it if I called on you?”

She smiled warmly and felt a great deal of relief at his words. “I would be greatly disappointed if you did not. I will miss our rides together and our talks. Please promise that you will visit often.”

He smiled and she left him then, walking away slowly and in a most dazed and confused state, although she only let him see her smile.

She did not walk directly home. She was sensible of the fact that she could not stay away for very long, or she might undo the good works he would do for her reputation, and she would need to abide her aunt’s wish and mend her morning walks for a little while. Staying on well travelled paths and passing houses to increase the chance of being seen alone and not just completely lost from sight. She did not know if that step was necessary, but she would take it all the same.

She was stunned by his new proposal, but not disheartened by his response to her negative reply. Yet for him to offer twice and be refused would surely negate any chance of him ever offering for a third time, his confidence now soundly crushed. Not that she expected him to have the desire to ever do so again, but surely this latest defeat would drive the possibility from his head forever. Lizzy would curse Mrs. Higgins for her thoughtless interference, and her cousin for seeing whatever she had seen – if she had it in herself to blame anyone else for her own senseless behaviour. But she could not, for she realised that the housekeeper had probably done her a favour by bringing her back to the realities of the situation.

Yet, she could not help but feel that things had begun to seem different in his interactions with her of late. Of course it could have been wishful thinking on her part. Still, there had seemed to be something she could not quite put her finger on. She had begun to think, to hope, that the reason she was able to linger against him once he halted the horse, or to stand between it and him for so long was because he had allowed it – maybe even desired it. And surely he did not need to hold her quite so closely to ensure her safety? The attentive way he spoke to her and attended to her needs, the long stares and winks, the way he often had of taking her hand in his and some of the things he had said. She had not seen him behave this way to any other woman, but then her experience of seeing him interact with other women was limited at best.

No, it could all be explained away. It would do her no good to dwell on all of the little hints that could have meant nothing or something. She knew where she stood, planted firmly in the folds of friendship. She winced and suddenly felt lucky that she had not let herself dwell on these things yesterday, or she may have embarrassed herself by thinking more of his proposal than was wise. She may have even said something to discern whether or not there might have been more to his feelings than just honour! That would have been embarrassing for them both! Especially if he was then forced to try to let her down easily, or worse yet, profess to something he did not feel so as to not hurt her pride or disappoint her!

Full of such thoughts, she had arrived home at last, and reluctantly went to find her aunt, whom she knew would expect to see her.

Being told where she could find her, Lizzy knocked softly on Mrs. Tournier’s door. She entered when she heard the lady bid her to come in and found her sitting by the window. Walking over and seating herself in the other chair, she looked over and met her gaze. There was no use dancing around it. She knew her aunt was waiting to hear how it had gone, and so she launched immediately into the subject on both their minds.

“He blames himself of course, as I should have expected him to, and would allow me no share of the responsibility. He offered...” and here she faltered, for she would not speak of his offer to anyone, but even that word in a different usage reminded her of it. She continued, “He offered his assistance. He will speak to Mrs. McLaughlin to be safe, since she is related to Mrs. Higgins. If the topic of my indiscretion has travelled no further, the matter might end there.”

She looked out the window for a moment.

“I will tell you that he was not easy on himself. He will be harsher than you could ever be, so your promise to me was not a sacrifice, but only a balm to myself.”

She hesitated once more, and turned to look directly at her aunt.

“He wishes to come and pay me calls here – for the sake of our friendship of course. I told him that would be fine. Was that all right? Will you allow that?”

Mrs. Tournier listened to the words slowly spilling out of the girl. She got up without saying a word and walked over to her niece, guided her up from the chair, and sat her down on the edge of the bed, leaving her arm around her shoulders.

“My dear, dear child”, she said. “I think you have been dealt a harsh lesson on the ways of our world. Now is not the time for my thoughts on the injustice and hypocrisy of it. Now I must assure you that it is my conviction all will be well and that nothing has been lost that cannot be retrieved in time. Nothing. Of course Mr. Darcy is welcome to call. A fine and scandalous thing it would be if he severed any contacts with you just now.”

Their talk was brief. Lizzy said little more, just sat quietly as her aunt's plied her with what was surely meant to be comforting words and pats on her arm, but Lizzy found no comfort there. She thought she would not find that anywhere. Mrs. Tournier finally mentioned how disappointed Holly would be in the state of her garden when she returned from London. Lizzy took the hint as another way of her aunt's to keep her occupied and near the house, and she welcomed the chance to do something, anything, that did not involve sitting idle and dwelling on her situation.

She worked the rest of the day weeding the garden and trimming back plants that had managed to become too aggressive in the short time since they had last been tended. It was good for her to put her mind on something other than despair, and so when Monsieur Vian came to sit and talk with her she found she could tolerate his company. He stayed for some while, and she eventually realised she was conversing with him with more ease than she had been able to do thus far since his arrival. It seemed that he took pains to not misunderstand everything she said, just as she took pains to be very clear in her meaning. She soon discovered that his unassuming and cheerful manner proved helpful in distracting her dark thoughts and feelings for short bursts of time. He seemed to be most perceptive with her, and everything he said helped her briefly distance herself somewhat from the harsh events of the day.

The evening passed with more stories and idle talk. When she finally retired she found that she could not keep her eyes open. An emotional morning and a serious lack of sleep the night before had at last had their effects. She felt empty and numb.

Although Elizabeth’s words, as well as the fact that he could still be of help to her, alleviated Darcy’s mood considerably, he was still unsettled by the thought that her reputation might be at risk. Therefore, immediately upon parting with her, he headed back to Clyne to talk to Mrs. McLaughlin. He led the horses to the stables and entered the house through the kitchen door. Mrs. McLaughlin was occupied with preparations for dinner, but seeing her unexpected visitor stopped her work.

“Mrs. McLaughlin, please forgive my interruption. There is one thing I would like to discuss with you.”

‘Well, Mr Darcy in her kitchen! Would wonders never cease?’ She had a good inkling of why he was there though, and to show her intention of getting off on the right foot she wiped her hands on her apron and looked at him.

“Yes, Sir. How may I help you?”

“Mrs. McLaughlin, I understand that you are related to Mrs. Higgins, and you both remain in a close bond. May I ask if you two happened to discuss anything connected to myself lately?”

Mrs. McLaughlin placed her hands on her hips and eyed the gentleman in front of her.

“I would not call it ‘discuss’, Sir, but I did see you and Miss Bennet out riding in what to me looked like a picture of intimacy, and I asked my cousin whether felicitations were in order. As I understand it they are not, Sir, so that is that I suppose.”

Darcy sighed with relief. It was probable that only the two women knew so far.

“Yes, Mrs. McLaughlin, you are right, and for that very reason I would ask you not to share your observation with anyone else. I would like you to see that the situation is innocent, and any gossip might cause unwanted trouble for the lady. Have you talked to anyone else about it? May I count on your understanding and discretion?”

Mrs. McLaughlin pursed her lips and turned up her nose ever so slightly in a gesture of defiance.

“Mr. Darcy,” she said, “I am employed in the household of Lord Brougham, whose reputation and well-being is my utmost and only concern. I would never…!”

She stopped herself from saying more, and only stared at him while searching for words that would be appropriate to say to this man. Then, to her surprise, she saw his anxious look behind the frown and the tight grip on the gloves in his hand, and she relented.

“The matter is none of my concern, and I have quite forgotten such a trifling little thing,” she said in a calm voice.

“Thank you very much, Mrs. McLaughlin. I never doubted your good judgement.”

Darcy left through the door leading to the hall only to meet Brougham there.

His Lordship was in a better mood this morning than he had been for a while. Perhaps he had been relieved from his own sense of restlessness by directing all that impertinence and opinion at his friend. Now, he was quite surprised to see Darcy back so early and standing with his hand on the kitchen door handle.

“Darcy! Are you here sneaking about? I am just off to saw down some tree or other. After which I am off on Mr. McLaughlin’s request to see to the proprietor up by Nethery farm. Apparently some sheep have wandered over to the river, and it seems they need to be returned to their rightful owner, except it seems the proprietor is a trifle vague about how many of his sheep actually are gone missing, and he thinks we might have driven them down to the market to make a profit out of them ourselves. Peculiar fellow. It might make an interesting afternoon. What are you up to?”

“I have just returned from my morning ride and was heading to your library.” Darcy greeted his friend with a perfectly indifferent countenance. “Would you care to join me later?” he added casually.

“Do not mind if I do! Business before pleasure though.”

He hesitated when he saw his friend stare in the direction of the library.

“I say, is everything all right, Darcy?”

“Why… yes, Brougham, perfectly,” Darcy paid his friend a distracted look and retreated to the library.

He poured himself a double brandy and sank into his chair. The confusing, disturbing, unpleasant and irritating emotions had finally hunted him down. She had rejected him even though there had been such significant progress in their acquaintance. He had been lying to himself by assuming that altering her opinion of him would ever change things in his favour. She did not dislike him anymore, but it was nothing close to love. He would still stand by her side, but it was time to accept the bitter truth and not deceive himself any longer.

He served himself another double brandy and pondered the situation further. ‘Maybe she needed more time? Yes, think that if it gives you comfort’, he mused. He had loved her for three quarters of a year now, and yet her heart remained untouched. How much more time did he need to admit her indifference to himself?

All of his recent resolutions, that seemed so true in the brooding hours of the night, were dashed with the reality of the morning. His hopes – delicate, fragile – built on small gestures and secret wishes that were meant to quietly blossom in their due course, did not survive the clash with daylight.

With more brandy came similarly dismal thoughts. He would not even be granted the pleasure of leisure meetings with her anymore. His life was in flight now, if it had ever had any sense before, because he certainly could see none. And he had an enormous headache. How much time had passed since breakfast? Ah, yes, there had been no breakfast. Of course, he does not have breakfasts without Elizabeth. There will be no more breakfasts ever. No raspberries…

Clyne was enveloped in the soft, dark, murky air that a warm late summer day could achieve when Brougham walked into his home that evening after spending the day on estate business. He noticed the light in the library but was desperate for a bath and a clean change of clothing before dinner. When he appeared in the doorway again, night had already fallen.

As he strode into the room and looked around for his friend, the quiet of the place struck him as odd. Naturally, Darcy might be somewhere else, but all the lights were burning and the fire was brisk. Suddenly he caught a glimpse of a foot stretched out over the edge of the sofa, missing a shoe it would seem. He moved closer, very quietly, and was rewarded by a singular sight. His friend was on his back, stretched out in his full length, mouth open and eyes closed. The noise emanating from him was that of deep, regular breathing occasionally interrupted by a snorting sound from deep within his throat. But what drew his attention was not the empty bottle resting on his shoulder and leaning towards the back of the sofa, rising and falling in the rhythm of his friend’s breath, but the piles of books strewn out all over his body like a literary blanket. Some of them rested in neat piles on his legs, some of them were opened and turned over, and still others were opened with their pages fluttering in the draft.

Brougham moved closer and picked up a volume. Crabbe. Another. Burns. Keats was precariously quivering on the edge of his armrest. Byron was assigned to a small heap balancing just above his knee. From his hand, opened face up, Brougham carefully released a copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets and rescued John Donne from falling to the floor. He shook his head and smiled.

“Fine excess, indeed,” he muttered, and slowly retrieved half of his library from Darcy’s sleeping person and stacked them on the floor. He looked at his friend, so uncomfortably sprawled out without his protective sheet and began to slowly hoist him out of his seat. It was no easy task, but finally he had him slung over his shoulder. At some point Darcy muttered incoherently, but the task of removing him to his own more comfortable bed was too much of an effort for Brougham to catch any meaning to them. Since Riemann was not here he removed his outer layer of clothing and threw the covers over him when he finally had him safely on his own bed. In his deep sleep Darcy smiled and turned over.

“Sleep well, my friend”, Brougham said softly. “We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.”

Do you feel like yelling at us?!!!
Comment on the story here!

Sideborder by