Blinded By Prejudice by KaraLynne Mackrory
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Iwish to go to Bodden Chapel.”
There was a moment of pregnant pause, as my companions had their teacups lifted to their mouths—and then an eruption of protests.
“Lizzy, no!”
“Absolutely not, Elizabeth!”
Jane and Fitzwilliam had voiced their opinions, ones I had fully expected from those quarters. I looked to the fourth in our party, and Charles was silent on the matter. His eyes fixed on mine, and although he did not protest, there was hesitation and, gratefully, a little bit of understanding in his expression.
“I must insist, my dear, that it is much too dangerous,” my intended repeated, with more calm in his voice this time.
I turned to him and, pressing his hand, smiled plaintively at him. “In less than one week’s time, I shall leave off the name Bennet, taking up your own fine surname. I shall leave this county to become a resident of Derbyshire. There is so much change in those two statements. I understand your hesitation with regard to Bodden Chapel. It is the place that owns countless emotions for the four of us.”
“Then why would you wish to revisit something so unpleasant?”
“Before the accident, I was enjoying listening to the history of the place. Yes, despite our historian being Mr Collins with his pompous manner of speaking. Walking those grounds, I could imagine the people who once worshipped there. Fitzwilliam, we became part of that history when the collapse occurred, whether you want to acknowledge it or not. Our very union in a few days is part of that history. Any resultant children are part of the history of those rocks too. I would rather not let the demons of the past colour our future.”
“Lizzy, it was a very trying few days for all of us,” Jane’s gentle voice replied.
I was looking at my betrothed, and I saw in his eyes a swirl of emotion that I felt drawn to. It pulled me closer to him, where my voice was softer and less demanding, though no less persistent.
“My dear, the accident brought us together. Bodden Chapel ruins loom large, terrifying, and awful in my mind, while memories of our hours entombed there hold much different emotions now. I wish to see the place that changed so much of my heart and future. I think in doing so, I shall be able to erase the horrors and think only of the past as it gives me pleasure.”
“You are a very difficult person to say no to, Elizabeth. Are you certain I cannot persuade you against this scheme?” I could tell by the tone of his voice that I had won my case. Still, it would not hurt to tease him a little. I had found in the course of the past few weeks, since we had reached an understanding of the heart, that my intended was very susceptible to my teasing.
“You need not come if you dislike the idea so much. Until such a time as our wedding vows are spoken, I have no obligation to ‘obey’. And thereafter, I promise to try very hard to fulfil that vow. I cannot say whether I shall always succeed, but I shall promise to try.”
His lips twitched, and I saw immediately the desire to kiss the impertinence off my lips, though being in company prevented him.
“I shall accompany you, Elizabeth,” Charles spoke up, drawing three sets of eyes to him. “I am sorry, my love,” he said to Jane, “if this does not meet with your approval; however, I think for our dear sister, a closure of sorts will be good. When I was very young, one of my grandfather’s mills caught fire. He was part of the rescue force. Although no lives were lost, it was too much for him to continue with the site and he sold it off. I think if he had been able to return and see that it was not some great monster, but merely a sodden, charred building, he might have felt less averse to it. In any case, I am certain I can keep Elizabeth safely away from any unstable portions.”
“Thank you, Charles,” I said with feeling.
“Lizzy, I cannot like this at all, and I think you know that. However, I shall come too, for I dislike more the idea of you going without me.”
I turned then to my intended for his decision. My sister and Charles had agreed to accompany me, and that would be enough, but inside, I wished with all my heart that he might be there beside me when I first encountered that place again. Even though I displayed a brave front, the thought of returning did bring a goodly measure of trepidation.
“I shall come with you, my love. But not because I feel Bingley is as incapable of saying no to you as I am. Between the two of us, we might keep you from venturing where it may not be safe. No, I wish to accompany you because I recognise the correctness in your reasoning. It is part of our history. I should like to take the parts that bring me joy with us and leave behind the harrowing memories.”
Despite the others being near, I took up his hand in mine and held it. “Let us close this chapter together.” Turning to my sister, I thanked her too. I knew that she was far less serene about the decision than she showed and I would need to reassure her later that I was not being foolhardy.
Together the men discussed a possible day, and it was determined that two days hence, we would all travel in Fitzwilliam’s carriage to Bodden Chapel. I felt a surge of anticipation fill my breast. It was a mixture of elation, fear, and nerves. I had come to the conclusion the night before, after many such nights of contemplation, that a return to the ruins was necessary. We were now part of the history of that insignificant little structure. When later adventurers walked those grounds, they would never know our part in the history, but I hoped that when Fitzwilliam and I looked back at the beginning—at the onset of where our lives collided with rock and earth—we would be able to remember the tender embraces, the shared warmth, and those hours where both of our visions were changed.
* * *
When the carriage wheels slowed to a stop at the base of the great hill leading to the ruins, all the bravado seeped out of me and into the velvet squabs beneath. The hot bricks at my feet no longer penetrated my boots pleasantly, for my limbs all felt cold. I thought immediately that I had made a grave error in suggesting such a foolish idea. All it took was to look at the slope where the rocks of the chapel walls were not even fully visible, and I was petrified.
Jane and Charles had already descended the carriage, unaware of my cowardice. Fitzwilliam, ever attuned to me, had little trouble seeing the distress I was in. He immediately changed sides to sit beside me, drawing me into his embrace. The carriage was dark enough, and his arms familiar enough that, combined with the surge of remembered terror running through my veins, I might have said I was once again inside those ruins with him. I shivered at the thought and buried my face into his cravat.
“You are trembling, my love.”
I could not speak. The walls of the carriage were pressing into us as the earth and rocks had before. My lungs felt restricted but without the stabbing pain they had endured after the collapse. It was that distinction that barely held my sanity in place. We were not trapped in those ruins again, though my heart beat as if we were.
In the next moment, all thoughts of fear and phantom imprisonment fled my mind as the brightness and warmth that accompanied Fitzwilliam’s kisses slowly filtered into the terror and erased all the darkness. He kissed me passionately, deeper than he had yet done, and my world burst in love and happiness. When he ended the kiss, breathless though we both were, it was his face that I focused on. My eyes were glued to his, marvelling at the tenderness within. He saw me, knew that I had been at the point of danger yet again, and rescued me once more.
“How did you know?”
“Elizabeth, my love, today is a day of new memories. As you said, this place holds significant history for us. We were united here in more ways than matrimonial obligation. My heart gained its sight here and saw yours. I knew that you were becoming lost to the dark unpleasantness of the past, and I thought, maybe if we created new memories, it might bring you back into the light.”
I quirked my brow at his choice for a making a new memory. But his words rang true, and I was comforted by the communion of our hearts forged here, in this once holy place of worship.
“Do you wish to return to Longbourn, or do you still want to see the ruins?”
I was not certain I was capable of the inner strength it would take alone, but with Fitzwilliam’s presence, I was sure the trial would be bearable.
“As long as I have you beside me, I should like to continue.”
“Always, my love.”
He descended the carriage, and I took the opportunity to press my hands to my cheeks and draw a bracing breath. My gloves came away slightly damp, and I took the handkerchief from my reticule to dry my tears. My intended’s hand reached into the carriage for me, and that was all I needed to proceed out of it.
Jane and Charles were some steps away, heads together and speaking through their own thoughts on the return to this place. It occurred to me that Jane had not returned since the collapse, though Charles had when the rescue party came.
At our own paces, we four began our ascent up the steep hill. Fitzwilliam kept his attention on me, ensuring my continued comfort, and on the ground before us to make certain we stepped carefully over the ruts and rocks of the path. It was not until we neared the top of the hill that he looked up at hearing the gasp from my lips.
He grew very still then, and we both allowed our eyes to capture the entirety of the ruins before us. When we were rescued, I had spent too little time examining the extent of the collapse. I was far too focused on the pain in my chest, the strange longing I felt for Fitzwilliam, and the incoherency of my thoughts as I sat in disbelief that we had been rescued. And my betrothed had emerged from those ruins without the use of his sight. For Fitzwilliam, this was the first he would see the place where we had been trapped.
Silence hung heavy around us; even the birds in the trees seemed to understand the need for quiet. The rock walls had fallen in large slabs, now littered with fallen leaves and covered in places with frost where the sun had not yet warmed them enough to melt it.
Before long, I realised it was just as Charles had said: it was simply a pile of rocks, not this great monster with its mouth wide open ready to swallow us again. I watched as Fitzwilliam slowly walked closer to it, his eyes locked on what remained of the structure. Whether he was seeing what was before him or looking through eyes of memories past, I did not know.
I followed closely behind him and took his hand. At the contact, he looked down at it, at first puzzled, and then at me. He was returned from that place he had gone, for his eyes warmed and he pulled my hand to his lips.
“It is not at all what I had imagined, and yet, exactly so.” He shook his head. “I know I am not making sense.”
“I understand you.”
He returned his gaze to the ruins nearby and then back at me. “It is difficult to be standing here and not recall those last moments before the landslide. I spent weeks with that image in my mind of your imminent danger taunting me. I feared in coming, I would experience it all again. In a way, I have, yet your hand is warm and you are safely beside me.”
“I remember the ferocity of your gaze before you jumped towards me. It was compelling and mesmerising. I had no ability to be aware of anything else around me. That steadfastness of focus has forever been ingrained in my mind as the purest expression of your love. You love me with a force I cannot help but be drawn into.”
“Thank you for suggesting we return here. It is part of our history. It is the moment when all my life came into focus, and I knew that my heart would not beat for anyone else.”
I pulled his arm close to my side, and together we stood there looking at the ruins before us. I could see the small opening Charles and the others had created that allowed us to climb out of the rocks. I felt no compulsion to venture closer or to look inside. The horrors of that day were slowly draining out of me, down the hill and away from this place.
Fitzwilliam bent and collected a couple of the small fragments of rocks at our feet. His palm opened to them, and they jostled against the rich leather of his glove. The weak winter sun dappled across his palm, and a few of the rocks glistened from the dampness and the veins of quartz that lined through them.
We spoke softly of our memories of those critical hours and of our affection grown from the same. After a few minutes, I was ready to return to the carriage and indicated so. We saw that Charles and Jane were already carefully making their way down the hill, and Fitzwilliam guided us to follow.
The return trip to Longbourn was filled with pleasant conversation, laughter, and good feeling. Charles, innocently pleased beyond expectation, did speak of the third union forged from the trip to Bodden Chapel. When he wrote to his sister of the proposed wedding date, she sent her regrets, saying they would not be able to leave the parish to attend. Being concerned, Charles made a quick trip to Kent to visit his sister and determine her comfort as the new Mrs Collins. It was amusing to Fitzwilliam and me when Charles then blushed scarlet, scratching the back of his neck as he affirmed that from what he had inadvertently witnessed, his sister and her husband were quite happy. However, his sister had expressed during his visit that she hoped Fitzwilliam would soon have a different preferment for her husband.
Apart from initial comments of our differing impressions of revisiting Bodden Chapel, it was not necessary that we dwell on the topic. All had experienced a release of sorts with our visit, and we were free to forge new memories. I expected that the rest of our lives together would bring many such moments of pleasant conversation.
* * *
With the looming memory of the events at Bodden Chapel no longer a shadow in my mind, I was free to fully experience the joy of the last days before our wedding. I had even discovered a gift for Fitzwilliam, which pleased me immensely. Previous to now, I had felt a mental hindrance of sorts that prevented me from finding just what I wished to gift him for the holiday.
A dinner was held at Netherfield Park both to honour the brides, and the shared celebration of Christmas Eve only added to the wonder of the evening. I looked around at the gathered members of our collective families and felt all the blessings of the season. All were beloved to me, and all were made merry with spiced punch, candied fruit cake, and the pine-perfumed air.
Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam joined us where we stood near the warm fire of the yule log. The sparkle in their eyes was at first suspicious, for I had learned never to trust that look in the colonel’s face. It often precluded some joke of sorts.
“Have you exchanged gifts?”
I looked to Fitzwilliam and blushed, a little nervous now to give him mine. “We have not yet, Georgiana. But I have yours right here.”
I reached behind me to a nearby small table and passed her a paper-wrapped package. She was delighted with the novel I had chosen for her, it being the second volume for the one I had loaned her some weeks ago.
“Georgie and I have a gift for you both, but you must follow us to see it,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said with a smirk.
I looked to Georgiana and saw that she was blushing, but not unhappily. My intended took my arm and gestured to his cousin to lead the way. We walked only to the empty hall, our guides turning around with bright smiles on their faces. I expected they wished for a bit of privacy to give us our gift and was prepared to be amused given the glint once again in their eyes.
“Here we are, cousins. Georgiana made it, but you must blame only me. It was my idea. I figured you ought to have privacy for your first.”
I looked to my betrothed for understanding only to find his face bathed with the same confusion as mine. Georgiana giggled, her head bowed to hide her blushes, and Colonel Fitzwilliam led her around us, leaving us to stand in the middle of the deserted hall.
“For heaven’s sake, Darcy, look up! And do not waste this moment. Georgiana and I shall only guard the door for a few minutes.”
Following his instructions, we both looked up to find a kissing bough that had not been there earlier. I began to laugh, shaking my head at the romantic mischief-makers.
Fitzwilliam chuckled as well, though he called out to his cousin before they could disappear through the threshold and into the parlour once again.
“I thank you, Richard, though whatever makes you think this is our first kiss is beyond me.”
The look of surprise that stopped my new cousin in his tracks was gift enough for me, and I lost myself to mirth once again. My merriment was little helped by how Georgiana was required to recall the colonel from his stupor by pulling him along towards the door.
Fitzwilliam drew my attention to him as he lifted my chin. With laughter still in his eyes, and his smile wide enough to show his dimple, I had never felt he was more handsome than at that moment.
“A fine gift, I must say. I have been tortured by the mulled wine staining your lips all evening.”
His words sobered the humour right out of me, and I lifted up on the tips of my slippers to meet him halfway for a kiss. When the kiss ended and I was flat-footed again, I reached into my pocket to withdraw a small ribbon-bound handkerchief.
“A fine gift, indeed. And now, I hope you will be pleased by mine too.”
“Elizabeth, you need not have gotten me anything.”
“And you will tell me you did not select a gift for me? You have been very mysterious lately.”
“I have a gift for you, but you did not need to give me anything. Receiving your hand will be gift enough.”
“Well, it is too late for such a pretty speech; the gift is in your hands. Open it.”
I bit my lip, nervous to please him. Instinctively, my hand reached to the nape of my neck, only to remember.
He carefully untied the ribbon, allowing the white linen handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it to fall open. Inside was the chocolate spiral lock he so favoured.
“This is not—” He stopped abruptly, folded the lock again in the cloth, and spun me around by the shoulders to see what I had done. The errant curl that ever escaped my coiffure had been trimmed short, and my gift was indeed that piece of my hair he was always so tantalisingly drawn to.
“What have you done, my love!”
I could not at first tell whether he was displeased, though I thought he might be a little disappointed to see its shortened length. Before I could reply, I was spun around again, pressed up against his chest, and his lips descended once more to capture mine. So he was not displeased, it would seem.
I was breathless when he finally withdrew to inspect again the short wisps at my neck, comparing it to the lock in his hands.
“It is a crime to cut this hair of yours, yet I cannot be otherwise than profoundly touched by your gift. I fear I am caught between love for your sweet thought and disappointment that this little curl is no longer there for my pleasure. And how is it that I had not noticed this evening?”
“It will grow back. I often have to trim it, for no matter how long it gets, I can never get it to behave and join the others when I put my hair up.”
“Then I shall treasure this and wait for my little friend to grow long again. Thank you, Elizabeth.”
“My pleasure.”
Fitzwilliam soon placed a small parcel in my hands, though his large fingers prevented me from opening it.
“I hope you will be pleased with my gift. It is not…well, it is not the usual…”
“I am certain I shall love it. Might I be free to open it then?”
He nodded, and I carefully untied the string holding the paper around the small box. However, what I discovered inside was not what I expected when I saw the stamp of our jeweller in Meryton. I lifted the delicate chain up to see the necklace better in the candlelight. At the end of the chain was a pendant where a diamond might have once been. In its place, was a polished though rough-cut pebble that I recognised immediately. It was one of the small stones Fitzwilliam had picked up from the ground around Bodden Chapel. The vein of ivory quartz glistened in the low light of the hall. It far exceeded any precious stone that might have otherwise been placed in its space, and I could not express words to tell him how lovely it looked to me. I attempted to, lifting my eyes to my intended, but the sentiment was lost on my lips.
“Bodden Chapel is part of our history as you so rightly taught me, and I wanted you to have a piece of it with you always. It may not be the height of fashion, but it will mean something to the two of us. We shall be married in another house of God, but I hoped you would consent to wear this necklace in homage to the first chapel that united us.”
Blinking back tears at his words, I nodded before I could gather the ability to speak. “I think it only right that I do. Thank you, love, it is most beautiful. And I imagine Mr Murphey worked many hours to accomplish such a commission so quickly.”
“I fear he thinks I am a most peculiar man to ask him to replace the diamond in this set with a rock of no value.”
“It is invaluable to me. Will you help me with the clasp?”
I turned so he might place the necklace about my neck, but my breath caught at the feel of his lips pressing there instead. With a low groan, he murmured, “I shall miss this curl.”
The kiss, combined with the gentle touch of his fingers at my nape as he secured the clasp of the necklace, sent currents down my spine.
“Thank you for seeing me through the darkness, Elizabeth.”
“My eyes were just as blinded, as we both know. I love you.”
“You are my heart.” He began leading me back to the company of our relations when he stopped abruptly and laughed heartedly. At my questioning glance, he shook his head and said, “I suppose our love was a case of the blind leading the blind?”
It was so ridiculous that I could not help but laugh at it. The wry, sometimes preposterous humour my intended employed was a delight to discover. I was fortunate that I was allowed the opportunity to learn this and other beloved aspects of his character. I had always hoped to marry for love, and as I looked up at the dark handsome features of this man, I intended to do just that.
With reverence, I touched the stone that rested near my heart, sending a prayer of gratitude heavenward for the persistent rains that turned the world upside down, sending a forgotten chapel to its knees.