Disdain, Agony, Hope, and Love #Wattys2020

Chapter 22

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Morning found Darcy again waiting in the park for Elizabeth. He told himself he was walking because it was a lovely day to be outdoors but it was difficult to lie to his heart.

This time he did not have to wait for she was already there.

They stood there for some while, Elizabeth's face unreadable but it seemed she took no pleasure in seeing him.

"Miss Bennet," greeted he.

"Mr Darcy."

"I hope this morning finds you well," he said for lack of anything else to say.

"I am quite well, thankyou," she replied. Elizabeth continued to walk past him, so he turned and walked in the same direction. She glanced at him with raised eyebrows, made as if to say something but silenced and did not protest.

They walked in an awkward silence - Darcy was too confused and nervous as to what to say to the woman with whom he was in love with.

Racking his mind for something to say, Darcy said, "Are you enjoying your stay at Hunsford?"

She looked at him, as if trying to determine his thoughts.

"Yes I am. I have not seen my friend for some time, nor am I likely to see her after I leave. I doubt she will be leaving Kent for some time." The lady sighed. "She is now married and it seems married women have little time for visiting."

"And what is your opinion of Mr and Mrs Collins' happiness?"

She looked at him strangely.

He suddenly realised he knew very little about her. He knew her, but he did not know her.

"I mean, with your idea of marriage in general, is it a good match?"

"Did I not say, when you came to Hunsford, that it is a very good match for her?"

"Yes, but what is your opinion?"

"A marriage, where neither party can respect the other, it cannot be agreeable."

Darcy knew he held a great respect for her . . .

"A marriage which has love, respect and security is best. I believe Mr and Mrs Collins' situation has at least one of these."

Darcy imagined a marriage between them - would it have all that he wished?

"Mr Darcy."

"Oh . . . yes, Miss Bennet?"

"We are at the gate outside the Parsonage."

"Of course."

He was quite unwilling to leave.

"Good day, sir," said Elizabeth. She curtsied and opened the gate.

He felt a pang of regret as she walked up the path.

"Farewell . . . Elizabeth," he whispered under his breath.

She was to far away to hear him.

He visited the Parsonage with Colonel Fitzwilliam frequently. He rarely spoke during these visits, only for propriety's sake rather than from any wish to talk.

One of the things he was worried about was did Elizabeth care at all for his cousin?

He watched the two carefully, laughing and talking amongst themselves. It took great strength of will not to violently protest every time they whispered to each other. He was envious of his cousin's ease in speaking to her.