Oh! Oh! Oh! Lizzy scarcely knew what to think. She pulled in the mainsheet as if to gather her thoughts, but gybed instantly, then almost immediately went about in error and was in danger of being thrown into the waters. The little boat rocked and rolled on the tempestuous seas. She began with prejudice against his every word. How could he pretend that he was insensible to Jane’s feelings? That must be false! How could he find her family such an objection? And where was the apology? Only a hint of wrongdoing at concealing Jane’s existence in London. But hardly an apology. Yes, he was all pride and insolence.
Lizzy went about putting the boat onto a starboard tack, heading straight out to sea. She was in no mood to return. What mood she was in she hardly knew. The sun came out and glinted over the breaking waves. The dark clouds became rimmed with silver, and the little boat struck forth intrepidly through the waters. But where Lizzy’s mind was going she could not say. After her fury but confirmation of feelings at the first part of the letter, she found the account of Wickham filled her with astonishment, apprehension, even horror. She thought back of her times with Wickham and blushed at her own forwardness, her own fondness, his impropriety—yes impropriety—at discussing Darcy’s faults so freely with her aunt, then a stranger to him. Oh! And what of Mary King? Of course, the pink-hulled speedboat. Despite the cold wind, Lizzy felt herself redden at the thought of any affection she had had with Wickham. She had been well and truly duped.
But what then of Darcy? Perhaps… she reread the letter again. Charlotte’s words rang in her ears that Jane should not be too secretive about her affections. How she had teased her friend then, but perhaps, after all, Lottie had been right. Jane was in danger of losing the man she loved by disguising her feelings too well. As for the comments about her family—she blushed at the outrageous behaviour at the Estuary Swim. It was a ghastly exhibition. Her mind rambled on over the events of the summer since first meeting Darcy and Bingley. Each memory of each encounter caused her excruciating embarrassment and an immediate wish to expunge all recollection of her behaviour towards Darcy. Physical exertion seemed her only immediate escape. She pulled in the jib, jamming its sheet into its clamp, and heaved in the mainsheet as tightly as possible, forcing the boat to keel over, and pushing herself out on the gunnels, leaning right back over the waters to prevent capsizing. In this manner, she battled fiercely with the waves, the wind, and her feelings until she felt able to return to Little Rosings on the Rocks and appear cheerful as usual.
On her return, soaking and exhausted, she was told that earlier, Darcy had called for a few moments, apparently soaked and exhausted, then left. Sometime later, Colin had called and waited and waited for her, and eventually, with a sigh, had also left. Lizzy could only pretend to affect concern at missing him; she really rejoiced. Colin was no longer an object. She could think only of her letter.