Page 26 of One Good Sonnet

“I told you before,” Jane said reasonably, “that I was never in love with him. Infatuated, yes. A lady’s first experience with such sentiments can be powerful. They have the power to shape a life. In my case, it taught me to guard my feelings and to protect my privacy. Eventually, the right gentleman came along. I forgave Mr. Darcy long ago.”

“But I did not. Now I find that the man I have resented for seven years is the very man with whom I have developed feelings. He almost proposed to me this evening. Then Aunt Gardiner revealed their connection.”

“Yes, she told me. Our aunt is dismayed. She can tell she caused some harm. It is not her fault. It is mine. Had I but informed you of the particulars when Mr. Darcy arrived, you might not be hurting now.”

“How can I trust him not to abandon me?” Elizabeth cried, finally rolling over. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Elizabeth, that was seven years ago. He was so young—so was I. And it was not his fault.” Jane began to tell her sister about the circumstances leading to Mr. Darcy’s departure. “And even had he searched for me, his investigation would have taken him to Herefordshire. Apparently, my quiet voice was misheard.”

Elizabeth laughed weakly. “What am I to do?” she asked.

“You must decide if you are willing to trust him,” Jane instructed. “You came to know him without the cloud of hate you carried for years. Do not let that cloud descend and mar what you know of him. He has not changed in essentials. Perhaps your opinion of him will continue to improve the more you know him. But do not hate him on my account. Mr. Darcy made amends with me as soon as he was able. That is why I have been so easy in his company. He was sincere in his regrets, and I was sincere in my forgiveness. I have tried to help him in every way possible since I became aware of how he felt about you. My dearest sister deserves happiness of her own. And if you feel the same for Mr. Darcy that I do for Mr. Bingley, then you will be very happy indeed.”

“But how can you stand it? Does it not bother you that a man who paid you court has decided he likes your sister better?”

Jane shook her head. “Fifteen-year-old Jane might have cared. It might have made me jealous. But I am not the same person I was seven years ago. Neither is Mr. Darcy. You must account for maturity and growth in these situations.”

Elizabeth could not deny her sister’s assertions, but she did not know if she was convinced.

“It is not fair,” she complained. “You have deprived me of my favorite villain.”

“I am not sorry. You have held onto that grudge for far too long. Mr. Darcy does not deserve your antipathy.”

“Jane, you are too good. You make the rest of us seem wicked in comparison.” Elizabeth took her sister’s hand. “Thank you for being my moral compass.”

Jane stood and kissed her head. “Sleep well, Lizzy. Morning comes early.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am no fool. I would wager you intend to meet Mr. Darcy on Oakham Mount. Please, be gentle with him. He does not deserve your ire.” With that, she left the room, leaving Elizabeth to her thoughts.

Elizabeth spent the night trying to resurrect her anger and failing.

He abandoned Jane, followed by remonstrations in Jane’s voice.

His father nearly died, Lizzy. I would have rushed home if it was our Papa.

But he never searched for Jane. Yes, I might be angry about that. But the feeling felt hollow. Jane had already forgiven him.

How very Jane-like to be so reasonable, she groaned as she rolled over, seeking a comfortable position.

As she dressed to go out in the bitter cold to meet Darcy, she recognized that nothing she had learned last night had changed the man she had personally come to know over the last weeks. Mr. Darcy was still Mr. Darcy.

She donned a warm pelisse and a fur-lined cloak, then quietly left the house. It would be a bitterly cold walk. She was not looking forward to it.

Mr. Darcy was already waiting at the top of the mount. She stopped ten paces from him, staring as he pivoted to face her.

“Elizabeth,” he said, his breath leaving a cloud in the air.

The snow crunched under her feet as she approached. The cold nights had frozen the partially melted precipitation into a hard crust.

Elizabeth’s first thought was uncharitable. At least this time he did not disappear. She scolded herself for her unfair musings.

Darcy began to apologize. She raised a hand, silencing him.

“I should like to ask the questions first this morning, if you please,” she said.

“As many as you like. I shall be forthcoming.”