by Jennifer Joy
"Mr. Gordon loves Elizabeth?" Georgiana's eyes grew large.
"He told me as much. He has been calling at the Bennets', and I daresay that he would be a favorite with Mrs. Bennet. He is everything a young lady would admire in a gentleman."
Georgiana patted his hand. "But he is as inconstant as the moon."
"We know that, Georgie. However, they do not. They only see what he wants them to see, and even I must admit that he has calmed his coquettish nature somewhat since determining his feelings toward Miss Elizabeth. She is the sort of lady to make a man want to change— to better himself."
Crossing her arms and nodding determinedly, Georgiana said, "That settles it. We cannot leave. I will stay in London with you until you convince Elizabeth that you are the man she should marry."
As if it were that easy.
It warmed Darcy's heart to witness Georgiana's determined resolve. Her unselfish self-sacrifice for his benefit only made him all the more convinced that he must leave London to return her home. He would never ask more of her than what she was willing to give— and while Georgiana tried to be willing, it was plain enough to see that her heart was not in it.
"I wish Elizabeth could come with us. That would solve everything. She could see Pemberley at its best at the height of spring, you would not be deprived of her company, nor she of yours, and we would have such a wonderful time of it."
Darcy pinched his chin and considered his options. "I will take you home, Georgie. It was what we had planned to begin with, and I understand your motives in wanting to return home now as much as I did then."
Her shoulders relaxed, though he could see the struggle not to appear too relieved on her face. It was the best decision. He was certain of it.
Narrowing his eyes and focusing his vision to enable him to see a clear solution, he added, "However, there must be a way that I can do something for her. Something which would please her greatly. Some way I might be of service to her and her family."
"That ought not be too difficult, Brother. Only consider what she wants more than anything."
He opened his mouth to say, "Easier said than done," but the words dried up and vanished before his breath left his throat. He knew what he needed to do.
With renewed enthusiasm, Darcy buttered the bread which had sat untouched on the table. He plopped a large dollop of preserves on top. "We will leave this very day if we can manage it. Eat a hearty breakfast, Georgie. We do not have much time to waste."
"What do you plan?" she asked, full of curiosity.
"I will tell you in the carriage. It is the perfect solution, and it requires that I travel north of Pemberley, so you see, my dearest sister, you are doing me an immense favor by giving me a reason to go that way. The surprise for her will be all the greater for it."
He ate so quickly, he did not even taste the preserves. He burned his lips in his haste to drink his morning coffee, but he did not care. There was much to do and time was precious.
Chapter 23
"Sir, might I suggest that if you are in such a hurry, I might send the luggage behind you in another carriage?" asked Bates, Darcy's long-suffering valet.
Darcy paused his pacing and ran his fingers through his hair. "I apologize, Bates. I will leave the room and try to occupy myself until all is ready. It would not make much sense to take two carriages when one is sufficient for Georgiana and me to travel in comfortably."
Bates, as was his custom, expressed neither pleasure nor disfavor. He continued packing without falter.
Darcy walked past Georgiana's door. She was busy with her maid, and Darcy did not want to distract them or do anything to slow their progress. The sooner they could leave, the sooner he could return to Elizabeth.
If he did not find something with which to occupy himself, he feared he would jump out of his skin. It was the only thing holding him together. Now that he had a plan, anticipation and excitement needled his nerves and slowed time down to a crawl. Nothing could be done quickly enough.
He decided to see if there was anything in his study which required his attention, but he was stopped midway.
"Sir, Miss Kingsley is here to see you," said the stoic butler.
"To see me?" asked Darcy. Sophia had become a regular visitor of late, but she had directed her attention to Georgiana. Not him.
"Yes, sir. She specifically asked to see you."
Reaching a hand up to squeeze the back of his stiff neck, Darcy said, "See her into my study, and ask Bates to stand by the door. I will see her."
He continued into the room, settling behind the thick oak desk which would provide a hefty barrier between him and his unwanted guest. He lay his hands out in front of the smooth surface and readied himself.
She came in with a scowl firmly set. "Do you really think it necessary to station your valet outside the door?"
Darcy said calmly, "Yes. There is nothing you might discuss with me that Bates may not hear. I will not risk compromising your reputation, nor mine."
She sat in the chair in front of him, the leather creaking softly under her weight.
"It is just as well, I suppose, for I have a request which will be made all the more serious by having a witness to it."
Darcy's fingertips pressed against the hard wood and his jaw clenched.
"What is this request?" he asked through his teeth, knowing that it would not be anything pleasing to him.
Sophia faced him boldly. "You will marry me."
Darcy's nails bit into the oak. "I do not love you."
She scoffed and leaned forward to press her hands against the edge of the desk. "What does love have to do with anything? I was brought up to be a perfect wife for you. I will do you credit. Half of London expects it."
Darcy bristled. "I am unaccustomed to living my life by others' expectations. Nor should you give so much credence to what society expects of you."
Her eyes flashed in anger. "You owe it to me, Darcy! I have waited for you all these years, and I will not allow for anyone to take my place! Especially a lady with such a disgraceful family. They would bring shame on the Darcy name." Her breath came out in huffs and her face turned an appalling shade of red as her fingers gripped the desk like the talons of a hawk on the hunt.
His blood boiled. "You would defame a lady you chose to befriend? Have you no loyalty?"
"I only befriended Elizabeth to keep a close eye on her. She is nothing to me, and she ought to be nothing to you. Think of the influence she and her atrocious family would have on Georgiana. She would be ruined before she even made her debut into society. No gentleman of noble birth or good taste would come near her, and it would all be Elizabeth’s fault."
Darcy stood, resting his weight against his hands on top of the desk. "I will not be told what to do by you, Sophia. If you knew me at all, you would know that I am not easily dissuaded once my mind is made up."
She shrunk back in her seat, her hand grasping at her throat. "It is true then? You have determined to desecrate your family name by proposing to someone so inferior to you as Elizabeth?"
"Take care to speak more kindly about the woman I have chosen. As far as I am concerned, we are equals in birth."
Sophia pounded her chest. “And I was groomed to be your wife! I will accept nothing less.”
“I have never encouraged you to think of me as anything more than a brother. I have sought out no interaction with you outside of your friendship with Georgiana, nor have I put myself in your association unless she was present.”
She harrumphed. “Your sweet little sister who is not so innocent as you would allow others to believe?”
Darcy froze. What had she heard outside the theater curtain? Georgiana had told him of her conversation with Elizabeth. Had Sophia overheard enough?
“What do you know?” he asked.
“I know enough to persuade you to see things as I do.”
"That is blackmail. Are you so desperate to have your way that you would act traitorously against me when my famil
y has done everything for you?"
“It was Lady Anne who suggested it. She sent her maid to arrange my hair the day you returned from Eton. She said that we were a perfect match. Do you doubt your mother’s judgment?”
He could not give any ground. "I cannot love you— this conversation and my loyalty to another forbids it."
Her face contorted into an angry sneer. "I thought you would say something of the sort. Your romantic notions of love have kept you single thus far, but how important is love when the reputation of your beloved sister hangs in the balance? Would you allow Georgiana's great mistake to become known and her future ruined just so that you might enjoy some weeks of happiness before the realities and tribulations of marriage settle on you and the precious wife you will soon enough grow to hate?"
There was no reasoning with her, but he could not let her have the last word. She would take it as a victory.
He leaned back in his chair, attempting to look as carefree as Gordon. "My plans are unchanged and they do not include you." He rose. "Understand, Sophia, that if you make any trouble for Miss Elizabeth, her family, her friends, or even her maid, I will hear about it. If you breathe a word about Georgiana, I will hear about it, and there will be consequences which you would sorely regret." He stared at her until she squirmed, despite her unyielding resolve of moments ago.
She stood, lifting up her chin. "Very well, Darcy. We will speak on your return. Do not look shocked. The housekeeper was all too happy to share your plans with me. Perhaps some time away will help you come to your senses." With that, she tossed her head and left the room.
Darcy waited only long enough for her to descend the steps. He did not want to extend her visit or have her think that he followed her out of interest. The front door clicked shut, and Darcy said to Bates, who had stood faithfully by the door, "Tell Georgiana that I have a brief call to make, but I shall return directly so that we might be on our way. Say nothing of what you heard to her. Even if she asks directly." He prayed for another option to occur to him. Sophia had forced his hand, and the only person he could entrust to keep a watch on her was the very man who competed with him for Elizabeth’s hand.
Darcy donned his jacket and hat. His boots pounded against the marble floor as he shouted for his horse to be readied. He would ride to White's first. If Gordon was to be found, it would be there.
Chapter 24
Charlotte decided to stay at the house to write letters when they arrived, making clear that Elizabeth's plan to extract her father from the gentlemen's club was a fool's errand.
Elizabeth gripped the note she had scratched on the chance that it might be allowed entry in her stead.
She had walked past Father's club several times. It was not far from their townhouse.
The aged stones forming the building were darkened with age. Flags proclaiming loyalties to the royal family and various other notable institutions poked out from the front like giant spears warning away the unwelcome.
"You would seek to intimidate me," said Elizabeth to herself as she marched up the steps to the front door where a snobbish doorman looked aghast at her through the glass pane.
He did not open the door, but rather motioned with his hand for her to leave.
Widening her stance, she knocked on the door.
Still refusing to open the door, the man said through the glass, "Women are not allowed, miss."
As if she did not know that. "I am well aware of that fact. It is a matter of great urgency which brings me here."
The doorman repeated, "I am sorry, miss, but women are not allowed. There are no exceptions." He turned away to leave.
Already feeling ridiculous at speaking through a closed door and knowing that her mission was doomed to fail, she knocked on the glass.
He turned, not bothering to disguise the annoyance in his expression. If Elizabeth had not been equally annoyed, it might have bothered her. What right did men have ensconcing themselves away from their families and responsibilities in their little clubs? They would not like it much if their women were to act as they did. It was a ridiculous place.
Planting a hand on her hip, she extended the note she had written in the other. "If I am to be denied access to my father, might I at least leave this note for him? I trust that you will delivery it promptly. As I have told you, it is a matter of great urgency. Or would you rather live with the guilt that your failure to deliver a simple note could have prevented the ruin of one of your members whom you work so hard to protect from female influences?" She shoved the note forward, adding to the dramatics of her story. She doubted their affairs were as bad as that. Father had reassured her that he had seen to their finances, but she would have no peace of mind until she spoke with Father and ensured that the people they owed money to had been paid.
Reluctantly, the doorman cracked the door open just far enough to snatch the note. "I trust that this concludes your business here, miss. I will see that this is delivered to…," he paused to read the name inscribed on the paper, "…Mr. Bennet, but I trust that this is the last time this travesty occurs."
"I will desecrate your sacred grounds no more," Elizabeth promised, her disgust growing as she returned home. Why had she ever suggested that Father indulge his desire for tranquility in a stuffy gentlemen's club? He hardly spent any time at home and had no inkling of the activities in his family. Elizabeth doubted that he knew that Mary had taken permanent residence at the orphanage, thus sealing her fate as a spinster. Not that Mary cared. She was happy.
She doubted that Mr. Darcy hid away in his club in an attempt to escape from his responsibilities.
Elizabeth stewed all the way home, wishing she could walk across open fields. She looked up to the sky, but the outlines of buildings on both sides of the narrow streets obstructed the view and closed in around her. She took in a deep breath, but the fetid air tainted by the coal coming out of chimneys and countless other smells Elizabeth tried not to think of filled her lungs and made her cough.
On returning home, Elizabeth went straight to the library. The room had several volumes she had picked up at the book shops. They were her one indulgence, and standing by the shelf she had taken it upon herself to fill, she felt as if she were surrounded by friends who lived much more tragic and dramatic lives than she. They all had their happy ending— well, most of them. Would she experience a romance as deep as Odysseus and Penelope? Was such a love even possible? Her only source of knowledge on the subject came from the pages of the books she loved and her uncle and aunt Gardiner. Surely, if they found happiness together, she was not destined to a cold marriage. She never felt cold with Mr. Darcy near.
Feeling the need for a good laugh, she pulled Love's Labours Lost from the shelf and went into her room to sit in the seat in front of the window. She would smell the blooms from the tree by her door, see the abundance of green leaves, and pretend that she was not confined in the city, but rather sitting on a fallen tree on the edge of a grove overlooking the most beautiful scenery nature could adorn the earth with. The sun coming through the open window warmed her just as the breeze caressed her cheeks and rustled her hair. She imagined a rider galloping toward her, sitting tall on his white stallion.
Her musings continued after Charlotte joined her. She had brought her own novel, and they sat reading in silence together, only the sound of the pages turning. It was almost perfect. Of course, Elizabeth’s daydreams were much more entertaining than even the witty work of Shakespeare in her hands. The rider swooped her up on top of his horse, his arms wrapping around her and holding her safely.
"Miss Kingsley is here to see you, miss," said the maid, effectively bursting the imaginary bubble with which she had surrounded herself.
"Please see her up, Molly," Elizabeth replied, resentful that her ride through the countryside with Mr. Darcy had been so abruptly brought to an end. What would he wish her to call him? Darcy? Fitzwilliam? William?
Sophia whooshed into the room, her face aglow with agitated excitement.
"I am the happiest woman in London!" She plopped down on the chair the maid pulled over.
Elizabeth closed her book, as did Charlotte.
"I came directly from the Darcys. You know how reliant they have become on me as Georgiana’s Season approaches. Darcy insists that I help guide her."
Elizabeth tried not to be annoyed at the reminder. She smiled and said, "I am aware of your close connection."
Charlotte must have heard the bite in her tone. She looked at Elizabeth askance.
“Then it will come as no surprise to you when I tell you that I am to be married very soon— by the beginning of summer if he has his way!” Sophia announced.
Words failed Elizabeth. She clutched her chest lest her heart stop beating.
Charlotte had the sense to say, "Let us be the first to congratulate you, Miss Kingsley. Who is the fortunate gentleman?"
Yes! Sophia had mentioned no names. Please, oh please, let it be Mr. Gordon!
Sophia blushed. "I am afraid that it is a secret as yet, but surely you must have figured it out. Who else could it possibly be?"
Elizabeth felt Sophia's stare. She would not let her see how deeply her claim cut her soul.
Charlotte looked at Elizabeth, but she could not speak without revealing the depth of her disappointment.
Coming to her rescue once again, Charlotte said, "If you are not yet free to give names, then please tell us how this joyous occasion came about."
"Only if I have your reassurance that you will say nothing until it is time. He wants to be here to share in our joy when it is finally announced. He is attentive that way, although I doubt it will come as a surprise to our closest friends. It has been expected for ages. Everyone knew we would marry eventually."
If Mr. Darcy loved her, why did he wait so long to propose? If her news was true, why had Elizabeth seen no hint of affection on his behalf? Her entire being rebelled at the news of their attachment.
Elizabeth listened half-heartedly as Sophia shared the intimate details of the proposal which, according to her, was perfect and should be a model for all gentlemen to follow.
