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“How wrong of me to trust Wickham, to let his happy manners and easy charm blind me to the truth. All the while, Mr. Darcy’s faults had been exaggerated in my mind, and I saw only what I wanted to believe.”
Charlotte’s words months ago in Hertfordshire cautioning Elizabeth not to be a simpleton and allow her fancy for Wickham to make her appear unpleasant in the eyes of a man ten times his consequence could not help but intrude.
If only I had heeded Charlotte’s advice rather than allow my vanity and prejudice to cloud my reason.
Finally, Elizabeth said, “Oh, Charlotte, Mr. Darcy has indeed regained consciousness, but he is suffering under the delusion that he is engaged to marry his cousin Miss Anne de Bourgh!”
“Do you mean to say he has no knowledge of the events that unfolded here at the parsonage—that he asked for your hand in marriage?”
“It is far worse than that, I fear,” Elizabeth cried. “Mr. Darcy does not remember me at all!”
After receiving from Charlotte all the sentiments the occasion called for, Elizabeth consulted her watch. Bolting from her seat, she exclaimed, “I am afraid I need to hurry to my apartment and pack...”
“Surely you are not thinking of leaving Kent,” Charlotte interrupted.
“No—no, on the contrary. Miss de Bourgh has invited me to stay at Rosings, thinking my presence will aid in Mr. Darcy’s speedy recovery.”
“And what do you think, Dearest Eliza? Are you of the same mind as Anne?”
“I do not rightly know. Not only does he look at me through the eyes of a stranger, but I cannot help but detect a fair amount of disgust in them as well. Yet despite all that, I did not have the heart to say no.”
Later, when Miss de Bourgh arrived at the parsonage in her phaeton to carry Elizabeth to Rosings, Elizabeth’s suspicions were confirmed when the young lady herself broached the subject as regarded the conundrum of Mr. Darcy thinking he and his cousin were betrothed.
“Cousin Richard and I are quite decided that, despite the yearnings of our own hearts’ desires, we will do whatever it takes for the sake of Cousin Fitzwilliam’s recovery. Our greatest challenge will be concealing it all from my mother. I surely will rely upon your help and your husband’s,” she said to Charlotte.
“You may rely on me, and for good measure, I shall say nothing of this to Mr. Collins that he may be tempted to reveal.”
The three ladies deliberated on what should best be conveyed to Mr. Collins and what to conceal. It was widely decided that, so long as he came away with the understanding that no mention of Mr. Darcy ever being in Hertfordshire the past autumn was to be made, it ought to be sufficient to prevent any unintentional consequences.
At length, Anne said, “Miss Bennet, I know how difficult this must be for you with your intended thinking he is betrothed to another.”
After exchanging glances with Charlotte, Elizabeth said, “I dare not go into the details of my relationship with Mr. Darcy, out of respect for the gentleman’s privacy. Suffice it to say, things are not always as they seem.”
Anne held up her hand. “Pray, say no more. Cousin Richard spoke to me about your concerns. Trust me, we are of the same mind.”
It was just as well. While Elizabeth wanted to say more, to go so far as to confess that she felt partially responsible for Mr. Darcy’s predicament and hence her willingness to do whatever it took to help speed his complete recovery—even if he no longer cared for her—so much so that he had entirely erased their past acquaintance from his memory, she decided to keep her own counsel.
This burden I carry is mine alone to bear and bear it, I will.
