by Zoë Burton
Doing as he requested, Elizabeth seated herself in one of the wingback chairs in front of her uncle’s desk. She observed Darcy as he lowered himself into the other, closely observing him with a smile on her lips.
That lifting of her lips encouraged Darcy. It brightened her whole face and made his heart skip a beat. “First, let me compliment you; you look fresh as a spring morning.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Thank you, sir. You look very well yourself.” She grinned, and a twinkle came to her eye as she teased him. “If the rest of your speech is just as pretty, I am eager to hear it.”
Chuckling, Darcy confessed, “If I did not have other news to impart, I would do so just to please you.” He paused a moment, and solemnity replaced the jovial tone in his voice. He knew what he had to say would bring Elizabeth pain. “Sadly, however, I do have more serious things to say, and I hope you will bear with me as I tell it.”
Elizabeth tilted her head, scrutinizing his face. “I will gladly bear it, sir. Please tell me.”
Looking down for a moment to gather his thoughts again, Darcy took a breath and, looking up, began. “I recently hired an investigator to look into your accident.” Darcy continued through Elizabeth’s gasp. “The investigator has found evidence that it was not an accident, after all.”
“What do you mean, ‘not an accident’?” Elizabeth’s eyes had grown large in her face. Her mouth hung open, but no speech came forward. Slowly, she closed it and awaited his response.
Darcy watched carefully as Elizabeth spoke. He did not wish to cause her undue anxiety, but she needed to know this. Softly, he continued. “There is evidence that the leather traces holding the horse to the carriage was cut, and there were the marks of a saw on the yoke.”
“So, when the horse spooked, the traces broke, which in turn caused the yoke to break when the animal’s thrashing about tilted the carriage over.”
“Yes.” Darcy continued to observe Elizabeth as she absorbed this news.
“Is this something that can happen naturally?”
“Only in the case of extreme neglect of duty by the coachman and grooms, and by the owner of the rig. Your uncle assures me that your father was not and that he had his men trained well.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, he was not neglectful in that matter. Papa insisted that his carriage be maintained meticulously, as he did the house and stables. He did not have much left over after he paid for his port and books and Mama got us all ribbons and gowns, but the funds set aside for the upkeep of the estate were generous, and used freely.” She breathed out her nose as she lifted just the corners of her lips into a small smile. “Papa used to say that, though he had no son to pass it on to, he would not allow Longbourn to fall into disrepair. He did not wish to see decay surrounding him.”
Darcy smiled at her words, glancing down for a moment before looking into her eyes again. “It sounds as though he loved the estate.”
“He did. He had many fond memories of growing up there. My room had been his when he was a boy, and Jane’s had been his sister’s. His stories made the house feel alive, if that makes sense.” She inhaled, holding her breath and looking around as she searched for words. “He gave it a personality, if you will.” Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see understanding in his eyes.
“My father did the same with Pemberley.”
“It is hard to believe he is gone, and that I will never see my childhood home again.” Elizabeth’s eyes began to well with tears. “Forgive me,” she muttered. “I am not usually a watering pot. Although I have had almost a year of grieving behind me, I have largely been able to face each day with equanimity, other than riding in carriages.” She shrugged. “However, every once in a while the reality of my loss slams into me.” She turned her face away, endeavoring to control her emotions.
Darcy immediately offered her his handkerchief, his heart longing to comfort her further. “My own father has been gone five years, and I still feel it at times, if it is any consolation. I think the loss of a parent, especially when one is so young, leaves a hole that never completely heals. Please do not feel uneasy about it.”
Taking the handkerchief from his fingers, Elizabeth nodded. She blotted her eyes as she thanked him. “There is a hole, a large one. I miss all of them, my parents and my sisters. But, I thank God every day for my loving aunts and uncles, especially the Gardiners.” Finally in control of herself, Elizabeth faced Darcy once more, his handkerchief still clutched in her hand. “What I understand from what you tell me is that my family did not have to die. Had pieces of the carriage not been damaged, we would have arrived home at our destination in one piece, all of us alive and healthy.”
“That is correct.” Darcy found himself admiring the fierceness of Elizabeth’s expression.
“What is being done? Do you know who did it?”
“We do not, but the investigator is looking into it. The most obvious suspect would be the heir. I believe he is a relative?”
“He was my father’s third cousin, twice removed. It was a very distant relationship, and while we knew of Mr. Collins, we had never met him.”
“You have no idea of his character, then?”
“No, I do not. Well, that is not correct.” Elizabeth rose and walked to the window. “The accident has taken many of my memories away, especially those of the days leading up to it, but I do recall Mr. Collins visiting Longbourn.” She turned around. “He was not there more than a day or two when he said he wanted to marry one of us. Mama would not allow him to have Jane, because Jane was the most beautiful of all of us. Mama often said that Jane was destined for a husband of the highest circles.
“He then asked for my hand, but I refused him. Mama was angry at me for it, but Papa took up for me and would not force me to accept. I remember Mr. Collins becoming enraged. He did not do anything to give it away, but his countenance and stiff posture gave all indications that he was. He left Longbourn immediately and returned to his parish. My friend Charlotte had invited him to her home to dine, but he even refused her. He said he could not bear to be in the same county as us. He called us all ‘ungrateful.’”
A Courtship
Darcy, who had risen when Elizabeth did, considered her words, finally asking, “Did he never return?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Not that I remember. My Uncle Phillips in Meryton should know, if Uncle Gardiner does not.”
“I will ask your uncle for more information, then.” Darcy proceeded to share with Elizabeth the rest of what he had told Gardiner. He was unsurprised, given the fiery nature he knew her to possess, that she reacted angrily.
“Watching the house?” Elizabeth’s eyes flashed and her jaw set. “Who does this man think he is? I assume you feel he is somehow involved in the accident, or knows who is?”
“I admire your quickness of mind,” Darcy replied with a warm smile. “I do, indeed, feel that this man is somehow connected to your accident. Either he is the perpetrator, was hired by him, or knows him some other way. Haynes will find out, whichever of the options ends up being true.”
Elizabeth had begun to pace as she listened. She suddenly stopped, and turned to face Darcy. “If the accident was meant to kill us all, and it appears that it was, is it possible this person is trying to … finish what he started?”
Darcy watched as Elizabeth flushed and then paled as anger, fear, and grief flashed on her face. She gripped the back of the chair beside her.
Brutus, who had lain on the floor at her feet while Elizabeth and Darcy spoke, padded over to her and leaned into her side. Automatically, her hand rose to rub the side of his massive head.
Softly, Darcy replied, “It is possible, but your uncle has put things in place to protect you while you are at home. I have offered to do the same while you are out and about, and Gardiner has granted his permission for me to do so.” He watched Elizabeth take comfort from Brutus’ presence.
Elizabeth’s hand constantly stroked her dog, and her eyes gazed at the animal for a few minu
tes as she thought in silence. Finally, she lifted her face to Darcy. “Why would you do that?”
Darcy had fidgeted, clasping and unclasping his hands and playing with the cuffs of his shirt, while Elizabeth had remained quiet. Now that he had permission to speak of it, he could hardly hold himself back. “I wish to court you, if you will grant me the pleasure.”
Elizabeth’s hand stilled its constant motion as she stared at him. Brutus shoved his head up under Elizabeth’s hand, asking her to resume. His actions seemed to startle her out of her thoughts. She blushed, looked down at her pet, and then back up at Darcy. “You wish to court me? Why?”
The corner of Darcy’s lips lifted, unsurprised that Elizabeth was questioning him. Her intelligence and inquisitiveness demanded that she do so. “I find you everything lovely. You are beautiful, accomplished, and graceful. You possess an inner strength and courage that I find inspiring, and your wit and good humor draw me like no one ever has before. I have come to care for you; I want to make you smile and laugh, and to be the reason for your joy.
“I do not know what your feelings toward me are, though I suspect they are favorable. I hope,” Darcy continued as he took a step toward her, “to know you better, and eventually to convince you that I would make a good husband.” Looking down at her from just a step away, Darcy witnessed her lips twitch. He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing deep inside that she was going to grant him his wish.
“They are favorable, sir. I will allow you to court me.”
She looked down, suddenly appearing embarrassed and, contrary to her character, shy.
“Thank you for honouring me.”
Closing his eyes in relief and happiness, Darcy took a deep breath, and then exhaled. Focusing his gaze on Elizabeth once more, he took her hand, and lifting it to his mouth, he bestowed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you. I am the one who is honoured.”
Hearing a knock on the partially-open door, the couple turned toward it. Gardiner poked his head into the room. “Have we success? It became too quiet in here, and I took it upon myself to discover the reason for such silence.”
Tucking into his elbow the hand he still held, Darcy proudly announced, “Miss Bennet has just granted me permission to court her.”
Gardiner’s face lit up with a grin as he entered the room. “Excellent!
~~~***~~~
On the day after they began courting, Darcy and Elizabeth took their first walk to the park. After an annoyed glance at their escort, Elizabeth sighed to herself and muttered under her breath.
From the day Elizabeth accepted his courtship, Darcy was a daily visitor at Gracechurch Street. The couple took many walks around the neighborhood, down to the park, or to Gardiner’s warehouse. Often, they took the Gardiners’ children and nurse with them. Always, Darcy brought four large, armed footmen for protection.
Though she had attempted to keep her irritation to herself, Darcy had seen it. He searched his mind for ways to assure her of the footmen’s loyalty and future silence about anything that might be said in the course of their walk. Finally, after seeing that she intended to make no comment and remained cheerful, he decided that saying nothing about it might be best. He remained silent, enjoying her company and the feel of her hand on his arm.
It was not long, however, before Elizabeth spoke. “I believe that we must have at least some conversation, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy grinned. Keeping his gaze forward, he replied, “You are correct; we should. What is it you wish to speak about? I am open to any and all conversational topics.”
Elizabeth laughed. “That truly is a dangerous precedent to set. I may bring up things you never wish to speak about again.”
Looking down at Elizabeth’s happy eyes, Darcy’s heart lurched. “I am not afraid of you.”
Elizabeth blushed, and looked down for a moment, then blurted, “I adore your sister. She is such a sweet and kind young woman. You must be very proud of her.”
“I am. Georgiana has suffered much this year, and I am guilty of being unable to protect her as a guardian should, but it has not hardened her. She is growing into a compassionate and loving woman, the image of our mother.”
Elizabeth tilted her head as she listened, her eyes, fixed on the path before them. A faint line appeared between her brows as she listened.
“Will you tell me what happened to her, or is it private?”
Darcy hesitated. He wished to marry Elizabeth; therefore, she had a right to know what she was getting into. Taking a deep breath, he began.
“Georgiana is, as you know, more than ten years my junior. I, along with my cousin, was given guardianship of her at my father’s death. You remember Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
“I do.”
Dipping his chin and lifting it again, “We had sent Georgiana to school, as per my father’s wishes, and when her education there was complete, we removed her and hired a companion, one Mrs. Younge. We were greatly deceived as to the companion’s character. She convinced me that a summer spent at Ramsgate was just the thing, and that all of my sister’s school friends would be there with their families. Georgiana seemed eager to go, so I approved the trip and rented her a house there. This was mid-June of this year.
“Not long after, about a month, I decided to drop in to visit. I sent no letter ahead warning of my arrival. It was a spur of the moment decision, and I would have arrived ahead of any missive, so I did not send one. I was soon to be happy that was so.” Darcy glanced at Elizabeth to discover that he had her complete attention. He continued.
“I noticed upon my arrival that Georgiana seemed agitated. It was not a quarter hour later that she burst forth with the news that she was engaged and that they planned to elope that evening. I was shocked, but what was worse was that the gentleman she was planning on eloping with was not my friend, as she had thought, but my enemy. George Wickham had convinced my fifteen-year-old sister that she was in love with him and that she should not share the news with me. You can imagine how I reacted.”
Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the gasp. “She did not know he was your enemy?”
Darcy shook his head, “No, and I will explain why. George Wickham is the son of my late father’s steward. John Wickham was a loyal and talented manager who ran Pemberley almost as though it were his own. My father esteemed him highly, and when George was born, John Wickham asked Father to be one of the boy’s godparents. Father was delighted to do so, and treated George as he would a second son. George was sent to school along with me.
“Mrs. Wickham was very different than her husband. Where he was thrifty and a hard worker, she spent every farthing she could get her hands on, and I recall her always being negative and complaining about a lack of money. George spent most of his time at home with his mother, and learned his spending habits from her. He was hard-pressed to keep funds in his pocket when he had any.
“Worse, at school, he fell into a crowd of boys who had little respect for rules and order. As we grew older, his misbehavior moved from pranks to drunkenness and gambling, among other things. I cleaned up his mistakes and paid his debts, in part to keep my father’s name from being smeared.
“When my father died, he left Wickham a bequest of one thousand pounds, and a living when it came open, if George took orders. Wickham declared he did not want to go into the church; he would rather go study law. He asked for and was granted the sum of three thousand pounds in exchange for the living and signed away his rights to it. When it came open two years later, he arrived on my doorstep once more, his hand out, asking for the living. I denied his request, and he began to disparage me to everyone he met.”
“He was angry, then?” Elizabeth’s eyes were filled with tears.
“He was.” Darcy laid his free hand over Elizabeth’s. Her tears over the situation made him love her even more, and his heart swelled in his chest that she had allowed his courtship. “You will recall that I mentioned Mrs. Younge’s character. She had a relationship with Wickham
and had falsified her references. At his urging, she applied for and was hired as my sister’s companion, and corresponded with Wickham regularly. It was he who told Mrs. Younge to convince me to allow Georgiana to go to Ramsgate. Mrs. Younge encouraged my sister to invite Wickham to visit and reinforced his words to her, which played a large role in convincing Georgiana that she was in love.”
“Thank heavens you arrived when you did! He would not have treated your sister well, I think.” Elizabeth squeezed his arm.
Darcy laid his free hand over hers where it rested on his arm. “No, he would not. I believe he intended to either abandon Georgiana once he had the dowry or move himself into Pemberley, knowing I would not abandon my sister, no matter what she did.”
“She was heartbroken?” Elizabeth’s lips turned down and a crease formed between her brows.
“Not at first. She argued with me, trying to convince me Wickham was serious. However, when he left Ramsgate without a by-your-leave, she saw that I was right. She cried for days, and when we returned to Pemberley, she spent more time with her horse than with me.”
“She seems better now.”
“She is.” Darcy glanced at his companion. “She owes much of her healing to her friendship with you. She has spoken to me several times of how your sound and logical advice has helped her see things differently.”
“I am happy to be of assistance to her.” Elizabeth smiled broadly. “She is delightful, and I am sorry she had to go through that. What happened to Mrs. Younge?”
“I fired her on the spot, and gave her no reference. The last I heard, she was running a boarding house on Edward Street.”
“And, Mr. Wickham?”
“Where that scoundrel is, I do not know. As I said, he left Ramsgate the moment he discovered my knowledge of his plans, and I have not heard of him since.” Darcy’s fierce expression clearly demonstrated his feelings for his old acquaintance. When he saw Elizabeth shiver and an apprehensive light come into her eyes, he reined his anger in. “I am well, do not be afraid. If I ever see him again, I cannot vouch for his safety or reputation, and if my cousin ever finds him, his life is probably forfeit, but I no longer dwell on those feelings. I find I have much happier ones to contemplate.”
