Disdain, Agony, Hope, and Love #Wattys2020

Chapter 28

Darcy made no answer to this outburst, which had obviously been building for sometime. He merely stared in to dying flames.

"Everyone is worried about you and I myself am beginning to tire of this!"

Again, no response. Darcy saw his cousin take a deep breath, as if taking the plunge.

"What happened between you and Miss Bennet?"

His head jerked up and life returned to his eyes.

What on earth does he know?

Seeing his reaction, the Colonel went on. "Don't try to deny anything, cousin; I have eyes. What happened between you and Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

Regaining control, Darcy retorted, "It is none of your business and I do not want to talk about it."

"If you will confide in me I can help you and - "

"I don't want to talk about it!"

He would never ask for help. His pride would not let him.

The Colonel sighed, frustrated. Darcy wished he would leave him in peace to nurse his wounded pride. But the loneliness also made him wonder and worry if what Elizabeth had said of him was true.

He did not want to know the answer to that - but he couldn't spend the night worrying about it.

As his cousin was leaving, he asked, "Fitzwilliam, tell me truly and honestly, do you think me guilty of pride?"

"What do you mean?" came the confused response.

"Exactly what I said, cousin," said Darcy impatiently. "Am I arrogant, conceited, with a selfish disdain for the feelings of others?"

"At the moment, I think yes!" came the near-shouted answer.

So it was true.

Depression and self-loathing fell over him. His face contorted with hurt and pain. As his face was in shadow, the Colonel could not see what effect his words had on him.

"For the last three weeks, you have wrapped yourself up in your own . . . self-pity, hurt pride and sorrow and you are taking it out on everyone else without a single thought as to how you are hurting them! Even your own sister - you should be ashamed at how you have neglected your responsibility to care for her!"

Darcy literally flinched with each word. Everything his cousin had said had opened up half-healed wounds. It was true, everything Elizabeth had said was true. Even his own cousin was telling him so to his face.

"Why you behaving so? What happened with you and Miss Bennet?"

Darcy did not hear him. He refused to let his cousin see how deeply he was hurt. He looked up and imagined he saw Elizabeth standing behind Fitzwilliam, looking at him. Darcy choked back a sob but made no answer to his cousin.

The Colonel looked down at him, waiting for Darcy to speak.

"I wash my hands of you. Solve your problems yourself if you will not ask for help."

Colonel Fitzwilliam stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him in his frustration.

Darcy sat there, frozen to his seat. Though it had been nothing in comparison to that evening, nevertheless what his cousin had said stung.

There was some wine on the side table near by. Darcy poured himself a glass and drank it quickly. He looked at the empty glass for a while and toyed with the notion of getting himself well and truly drunk. It would numb the pain at least.

But that would make him as bad as Wickham, and he had seen the man with too many hangovers to relish the idea of finishing the wine off. That would certainly be ungentlemanly behaviour.

Bed was the only attraction the night held. He replaced the glass and walked slowly upstairs to his room.

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Darcy slept uneasily - he had another nightmare. It was the same as the first one he had had, the night of their return to London.

Again, he was in a dark but moonlit room. There was a lady sitting by the window in the shadows. Darcy fell to his knees and apologised over and over to the figure he imagined to be Elizabeth.

Again, he asked for her forgiveness.

The figure stepped into the moonlight.

"I forgive you," said Lady Catherine.

She reached into the shadows and pulled Anne into the moonlight.

"I have waited a long time for this day, nephew," said she with a laugh.

Darcy woke up, gasping.

How much longer would he have to endure such pain and torture? When would he conquer it?

Would he ever conquer it?