Page 75 of To Go Against Her Heart
“Please, let us leave,” Elizabeth pressed him, horrified by whatever had happened and extremely grateful for his interference, but beyond everything, shame engulfed her, and she was not certain how much of their conversation he had overheard.
“I advise you to depart this place at once, and never again presume to engage with her, or even let her cross your thoughts. Take this as your sole warning, and that I permit you to walk away this evening is a mercy I would not bestow on you another time,” he said with a soul-piercing stare, and the moment he understood that Elizabeth was shaking beside him, Darcy led her away.
As consumed by shame as she was, Elizabeth dared not meet his gaze. She walked beside him in silence, wanting to thank him, but words failed to leave her lips. She knew not what he had perceived of the encounter, nor how much he had overheard. In truth, Darcy had heard enough to understand his identity; the suspicions he always harbored regarding his association with Hertfordshire now came to light, according to him, in the most tormenting way through Elizabeth. He did not lead her back into the ballroom but continued walking along the corridor in silence. At last, Elizabeth dared a glance at his countenance—and upon his handsome face was an unmistakable strain.
“Mr. Darcy, I... I thank you for…” She began, but the words faltered as he fixed his gaze upon her, his eyes holding her with such intensity that she could say no more.
“I do not wish to intrude, but if I may… is he?” There was no need for him to finish. Elizabeth gave a slight nod, with hereyes cast downward in shame. She sensed his body grow still and his frame stiffen—but she misjudged the nature of its cause. Darcy was devastated to realize that unknowingly, he had been the cause of her distress—that he had, in some measure, played a part in her cruel encounter with the past that evening, having himself introduced her to Mr. Harrington. He felt horrified to understand the turmoil he had caused her and felt the compelling urge to return to the man in question and not let him live on earth.
He stopped abruptly and looked at her once again.
“I am enraged beyond measure. I have, unconsciously, caused you distress this evening—unaware of his identity,” he said with guilt.
“I … I did not mean to hide this from you…”
“Elizabeth, look at me. I require no explanation from you, and as unfeeling as it may sound, please return with me to the ballroom. Come what may, I stand by your side, and you must trust me—Mr. Harrington will never breathe the same air as you again. You have nothing to be ashamed of, and whatever he sought to achieve was merely meant to unsettle you. You know better than to grant him the satisfaction of succeeding,” he said, though startled at how he addressed her, his words eased her tension, and she no longer felt threatened.
“Let us go,” Elizabeth said, and in that moment, she finally understood—the true strength of Darcy’s character, and his love for her was beyond anything she had ever imagined. As he led her toward the ballroom, Elizabeth felt, quite strangely, a sense of peace. For so long, she had wrestled with her feelings for the very man who now walked beside her—the man she had, time and again, tried to cast away. And yet, even now, having come to know her past in so revealing a manner, he remained unaltered in his affections. And in her heart, she at last understood: the only way she could ever honor him was by removing herself fromhis life. She was quite certain that her past would never cease to cast a shadow over them both, should they unite. Of this, she held no doubt—for it seemed fate itself had intervened into the evening, in the form of Mr. Harrington, to caution her of the same.
Darcy allowed her to enter the ballroom through a side door, while he made his way around to the opposite end to avoid needless gossip. Within moments, he was at her side once more, and without a word, he extended his hand and led her onto the dance floor.
In her eyes, he beheld an emotion he was unaccustomed to—a strange sense of calm and peace radiated from her gaze, and for reasons he could scarcely name, it tormented him. He longed to speak—to say much to her—but knew not what she might wish to hear. And somehow, it was the painful silence that both seemed to desire in that moment. With every step of the dance—joining, parting, and meeting again—they moved in silence, each inwardly struggling to grasp what the other truly felt. Elizabeth cherished his nearness, and without doubt, she knew—it would be the last time she would ever feel such comfort.
Once the dance ended, Mrs. Gardiner walked up to the couple, and Elizabeth knew the evening that had tried her, tested her, and confirmed all she had feared and believed was now drawing to a close. She thanked Lady Matlock once again for the honor, and Georgiana embraced her as she took leave. Darcy had no intention of letting her leave without confessing his feelings, but in her aunt’s presence, he came to a sudden realization that he did not have the chance. In silence, he handed Elizabeth into the carriage.
As he released her hand, she looked up at him with quiet despair and thanked him in a feeble tone so uncharacteristic of her that it unsettled him deeply.
As the carriage started, her aunt observed that something troubled her niece and wondered if she had been subjected to an insult.
“What is it, Lizzy? Did someone say anything to upset you?” Mrs. Gardiner asked with worry.
Elizabeth turned to her aunt with a ghastly look and replied,“He was there!”
Chapter 30
Mrs. Harrington paced her chamber that night, feeling irritated beyond measure. She glanced at her husband, who sat drinking, and knew very well that whatever explanation he gave her was laced with lies.
A few hours ago, at the ball, as she was witnessing Elizabeth and Darcy dance, a servant came up to her informing her that her husband had left the gathering. Mrs. Kingston was equally surprised by the news about her brother’s sudden disappearance.
Upon returning home, Mrs. Harrington was startled to find her husband drinking heavily, a dark bruise tainting his face. When she questioned him, he dismissed her concern with a vague explanation—he had merely had an unpleasant altercation with an old friend.
“Daniel, do you hear yourself now? Who would dare to land a blow on you, that too in a ball at one of the wealthiest households in town? People know who you are, and what made you leave in haste?” she asked him again.
“I told you; I had no wish to cause a scene. He was an old friend, quite inebriated, and when he quarreled with me, matters quickly got out of hand,” he exclaimed, losing patience.
“Where did this happen?”
“In the outer corridor,” he replied bluntly.
“And pray, tell me what business took you there, away from the ballroom?” she demanded. Mr. Harrington felt, in that moment, the artful mask of a devoted husband he had worn had threatened to slip away. How, his wife’s fury only deepened at his silence.
“Your absence brought me nothing but embarrassment—everyone, including Lady Matlock, was taken quite by surprise. Why would you humiliate me so? Already, Miss Darcy ignored me the whole evening because of the newfound friendship with the country chit, and Lady Matlock hardly engaged with me. When she did, all I ended up doing was explaining your sudden disappearance. I ought to have known better than to marry a man who cannot comprehend the nature of the society to which I belong,” she scorned.
“Enough! You act as though you have bestowed upon me the most joyful prospect of a life filled with wealth and status. But trust me—when I weigh that against the ordeal of enduring your arrogance, none of it suffices,” he yelled. Intoxicated by whiskey, he found himself unable to restrain his words.
“What? How dare you say such a thing! Do you think I ever wished to marry you? You were the one who trailed after me like a lovesick dog, begging for my hand!”
“Cynthia, distressing as you claim the evening had been, it has allowed me to unburden something long held in my heart,” he said. “You were never my first choice for a wife, and I have regretted marrying you ever since, forsaking the woman I truly loved and had always envisioned by my side. It was nothing but your wealth that compelled me to seek your hand. And if I may add, yes, I still love her,” he said casually, taking another sip, while Mrs. Harrington sank into a chair, for she knew, though in a state of intoxication, that her husband spoke the truth.
