by Kay Bea
“But my brother will not want to speak of these things. Especially”—Miss Darcy drew a deep breath as though to gather her courage— “especially if Lady Winslow spoke the truth.”
“You know your brother’s character, so you must not give credit to all you hear.” Repeating words of comfort to Miss Darcy for the remainder of the carriage ride proved as beneficial to the speaker as to her audience. Once the party arrived at Darcy House, Elizabeth had not only calmed Miss Darcy, she had also succeeded in settling her own troubled thoughts. She was still curious to discover the story behind Lady Winslow’s accusations but knew she would now be able to inquire with more of civility than accusation.
Upon arrival at Darcy House, Elizabeth had not counted on Miss Darcy encountering her brother so soon, and discovered, much to her chagrin, the young girl was not yet equal to the circumstance. Miss Darcy entered the drawing room, gasped on seeing her brother, then turned and fled the room with a great sob. Elizabeth had the unfortunate privilege of witnessing Darcy’s cheerful greeting die on his lips. She spoke before she could give herself the opportunity to falter. “I believe we must discuss a matter of some importance, Mr Darcy.”
That he was taken back by her brusque manner was evident. Whether or not he was pleased was another question. He looked significantly in the direction Miss Darcy had fled before he responded.
“Of course, Miss Elizabeth. This way then, ladies, if you please.”
Once they had removed to the library, Elizabeth found her courage deserting her. She had dedicated so much time to comforting Miss Darcy that she had given little thought to how she would actually broach the subject with Mr Darcy once the opportunity was at hand. Faced with a pacing and increasingly agitated Darcy, Elizabeth found she could not speak.
It was Jane who filled the awkward silence. “Mr Darcy, I believe my sister encountered an acquaintance of yours while we were out today. Lady Winslow. Though I confess I did not hear her words as I was in another part of the store, I will say it seemed to upset both your sister and mine a great deal. We left immediately after they spoke.”
While Elizabeth marvelled at her sister’s confidence, Darcy paled. He ceased pacing and sat with a heavy sigh. Raising his face to Elizabeth, he said, “Of what do I stand accused?” Then his voice took on a softer tone: “Lady Winslow and I have an old, but long-finished history, and it is her particular habit to accuse me of committing various social crimes against her person. What is it this time?”
Darcy’s distress grew when he saw Elizabeth could not meet his eye and instead directed her words to the floor.
“She said the two of you were once engaged, but that you were”—Elizabeth took a breath and coloured deeply before she finished in a rush— “that there were other women, and you claimed you could not be expected to remain faithful to one when so many were willing to receive your attentions.”
Darcy could not help but be affronted at the repetition of such claims and wondered that she should feel any need to speak to him on the subject. “And you believed her?”
“Because I once believed the tales of a man who flattered my injured vanity, you need not think I would now accept the word of a woman who, on our first meeting, publicly accused me of having loose morals!”
Darcy cursed the day he met Arabella Winslow. “And you returned here immediately? To confront me?”
Her eyes flashing, Elizabeth said, “Unfortunately, your sister overheard the entire encounter, a circumstance I believe was not accidental. Miss Darcy was naturally extremely distressed, as I am certain the tale reminded her of the behaviour of another gentleman of our mutual acquaintance. You will be relieved to know I told Miss Darcy she ought to remember your character. I also said that while I would make the event known to you, I was not inclined to place much value on the word of someone with whom I am so little acquainted. Perhaps you should save your censure for the woman who is spreading vicious gossip rather than the one who has done nothing more than comfort your sister and make you aware of those vile claims.”
Elizabeth quickly strode from the room.
Darcy was left standing in his library with his mouth agape. He ran a hand absently through his hair and turned to Jane who returned his look with an arched brow that was not unlike her sister’s. He took her silent reproof as an imperative to follow Elizabeth. An observant footman made a barely perceptible nod in the direction of the courtyard.
Darcy stood in the doorway watching her brood. In her agitation, Elizabeth had removed her bonnet, and her dark hair now shone in the sun. In shadow, her hair was a lustrous chestnut; in the sunlight, it reflected shades of red and gold. He found himself wondering if her hair would be warm to the touch after so many minutes in the sun’s rays. So lost was he in these thoughts that he failed to notice Elizabeth had caught him in his observations until she spoke.
“If my presence is offensive, Mr Darcy, I shall be happy to remove myself.”
Darcy had the grace to look embarrassed. “I can assure you my thoughts were much the opposite.” Elizabeth nodded and he continued. “I fear I must apologise. It seems time and distance have done little to soften my reactions where Her Ladyship is concerned. I should not have spoken so, especially to you.”
Elizabeth looked away for a moment, her hands nearly crushing her bonnet as she spoke. “I should not have left, but I did not wish to cause another misunderstanding by allowing my tongue to get away with me. I find myself unaccountably irrational where you are concerned.”
Darcy advanced and gently stilled her hands with his own. “Perhaps we might sit for a moment. I shall tell you the whole of my history with Her Ladyship, and we might yet save your poor bonnet.” He led her to a nearby stone bench and saw her comfortably seated before joining her.
“I thank you for your kind attentions to my hat. My mama would be most unhappy were I to ruin it.” Elizabeth could not help but smile, despite the gravity of the subject to be addressed. “As to Lady Winslow, I had noticed your discomfort at the theatre. Perhaps you are correct, Mr Darcy. It would be best if we were to lay all before us and have done with it. Though I do not consider myself entitled to know all your nearest concerns, it seems this would be a formidable barrier to our understanding one another.”
“I have not spoken of this in many years, but, as before, you may apply to Colonel Fitzwilliam and he will bear out the truth of the matter.”
Elizabeth raised her eyes to meet his before she spoke. “I am certain I shall have no more need to apply to the good colonel in this instance than I did before. I only wish to know the truth so I might be better prepared to protect both myself and your sister from such assaults in the future.” Darcy’s heart expanded as he realised the implications of her speech.
Darcy began speaking in hopes of exonerating himself and relieving Elizabeth’s mortification. “It is true that I once asked the woman who is now Lady Winslow to be my wife. I was three and twenty and not long out of Cambridge. I had decided to sample part of the London Season. It was not something I planned. My first thought was, naturally, to go home to Pemberley and spend several months with my father and Georgiana.
“Those plans did not come to fruition. You will recall my telling you Wickham and I were together at Cambridge. We had not been home two weeks before it became apparent the situation was untenable. I am ashamed to admit, I fled Pemberley for London rather than be reminded daily of my father’s adoration of George Wickham. I could not bear seeing my father champion a person so underserving of his love. Arriving in London, I threw myself into the Season with considerably less reserve than was my wont. I was convinced that finding a wife was the sure way to please my father. You would be shocked to know I danced nearly every set.”
Darcy paused in his narration to smile briefly at her bemused expression. “It was in this state I met Lady Winslow, Lady Arabella Barlow, as was. She was all smiles and gentle manners, and I believed myself in love. Certainly, I allowed myself to fall under her power. We were quickly en
gaged. I had obtained her father’s consent and had only to notify my own father and visit our solicitors before an announcement could be made and the banns read.
“Soon after I proposed, Lady Arabella became increasingly…insistent with her attentions to my person. I attributed her actions to a natural affection for me and did my best to reassure her of our mutual devotion while still maintaining propriety. She was furious with my resolve, accusing me of placing my honour and duty to my family above my love for her.” Darcy continued the story of calling on his betrothed only to find her in a compromising position with another. He told her of the confrontation, and how Lord Rawlins subsequently released him from the engagement with his daughter. Elizabeth gasped more than once. He spared no details and when he admitted his relief at not having to tell his own father of his humiliation, Elizabeth placed her hand on his arm.
He patted her hand gently and continued his recitation. “Wanting nothing more than to be home, I determined to return to Pemberley immediately. There was an express waiting for me at Darcy House, but such was my haste to depart, I did not read it until the second night of my journey. It was then I learned my father was dying. He succumbed to his illness soon after I arrived, and I suddenly found myself master of the estate and guardian of my sister. The fate of my former betrothed was not something which I had time to consider. I eventually learned her desperation to force an early marriage had been born of the knowledge that she was increasing. I never learned the identity of the child’s father. When her father discovered the truth, she was expeditiously married to the son of a peer who had great need of her dowry, but no interest in the lady or her virtue.”
Elizabeth was silent for several moments and Darcy wondered what she might be thinking. At last, she said, “But after these many years, how can she think such a story would be to her credit? The engagement was not public, and even the protection of marriage could not save her from the scorn of society were the circumstances to become widely known!”
“She would not worry how her words reflected on her own character so long as she succeeded in disparaging mine. She has likely blamed me for her unhappiness ever since.”
“It is difficult to fathom such contempt.” Elizabeth shook her head. “What shall you tell Miss Darcy?”
Darcy looked affronted. “Why should I say anything to Georgiana? This does not concern her!”
“While your sister certainly need not know all the particulars, she needs your words to silence her own fears. It has not been so long since her eyes were forcibly opened to the sometimes-duplicitous nature of others, even those whom she might have held in high esteem. She wishes to believe you. I dare say she needs to. But as long as Lady Winslow’s words are the only ones she hears on the subject, she will doubt you, because she still doubts herself. You must help her see her trust has not been misplaced and that her judgment of you is sound.”
Darcy struggled to concentrate on her words rather than the warmth of her hand on his arm or the gentle affection he thought he could perceive in her eyes as she spoke. He told himself the affection was for his sister, but his heart dared to hope it might be for him as well. Instinctively, he placed a hand over hers before he spoke again. “You are a marvel, Miss Elizabeth. No other woman of my acquaintance would forebear such a tale and then think only of my sister and her confusion. It will be as you say. I will speak with her.”
Noticing her own sister near a window with an excellent view of them in the courtyard, Elizabeth rose and said, “And what of your friend and my sister, Mr Darcy? Had you anything to do with their newfound happiness?”
Darcy offered his arm and the couple began walking through the gardens. “Except confessing my previous actions, I did not. I have learnt my lesson well and will never again presume to interfere with such private affairs.”
Elizabeth smiled at his words. “Yet you must have approved his actions. Or at least if you did not approve, you did not say so to him, else he would not now be in Hertfordshire seeking my father’s approval.”
“I suspected what Charles was about when he requested a tour of the gardens. Certainly, I approved of his intentions and was happy to assist in arranging the circumstances. I suppose, my actions could be seen as some slight interference on his behalf.”
“Slight interference, indeed. Mr Bingley is fortunate to have so reliable a friend.” Elizabeth gave his arm a gentle squeeze.
“Perhaps one day he shall return the favour.” Darcy spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, and Elizabeth stopped to look at him. “Elizabeth, do you think, that is to say, might there be any hope for us? Would you someday welcome my addresses?” He could scarcely breathe as he awaited her reply.
“With such progress as we have made today… Perhaps, Mr Darcy. Perhaps one day very soon.”
Before the gentleman could make any reply, Miss Bennet was calling to Elizabeth. It was time to take their leave and return to Gracechurch Street.
Elizabeth saw little of the Darcys in the two days she remained in town following her unpleasant meeting with Lady Winslow. Though Darcy was steady to his purpose in calling at Gracechurch Street daily, he was not able to stay beyond the customary time. He hoped to travel to Hertfordshire with Miss Darcy. Doing so required him to settle many matters of business before he could reasonably depart town. Elizabeth found that while she missed his company, she was also thankful for an opportunity to contemplate his continued regard. She could hardly credit the idea. It had been only a few weeks since she rejected his proposal and it hardly seemed possible her own feelings could have undergone so material a change. In only a few weeks’ time, she had come to think that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. She thought she might already be half in love with him.
“You are thinking of him, are you not?” Jane’s voice interrupted her reverie. The sisters were taking tea alone in Mrs Gardiner’s sitting room as they had preferred remaining at home to making calls with their aunt that morning.
“You have caught me out. How is it with you and Mr Bingley? Do you find yourself thinking of him at odd moments?” Elizabeth asked as she set aside her now tepid cup.
“Oh, Lizzy! I believe you are in love!” Jane teased.
Elizabeth shook her head in reply. “I hardly know. I devoted so much time determining to hate him, and I have treated him abominably. It is difficult to credit that we could be so well suited.”
“I do not think you would have needed to try so hard to hate him if you did not already feel something quite different.”
“Perhaps, but that would make me a wretched creature would it not? What manner of person would determinedly hate someone she secretly loved?”
“It would make you less rational than you profess.”
“How is it you know me so much better than I have known myself?”
“It is my role as your elder sister! I am obliged to know you well in order to better guide you. With parents such as ours, one can hardly expect guidance from any other quarter.”
Elizabeth laughed at this even as she marvelled at the conviction in her sister. “You are changed.”
“Am I?”
“You are, perhaps, the same in essentials, but you speak with greater confidence and are less inclined to disguise your true feelings behind a serene countenance. I believe I must credit your newfound security with Mr Bingley. You have found your happiness, my dear sister, and it has made you see your own worth. I heartily approve.” Elizabeth raised her cup in a toast.
“Keeping my countenance nearly cost me my love.” Jane spoke plainly. “Had I been more open in my affections, Mr Bingley would have had no cause to accept the word of his sisters or friend. It was a difficult lesson. But I hope I have not become too open. I would not wish to appear improper. We have younger sisters enough for that. Our family must always be something of a liability.” Seeing Elizabeth about to object, Jane hurried on. “No, Lizzy. You know I am correct. I love our parents and sisters, but their behaviour is ra
rely that which would be considered proper. We both of us nearly lost respectable gentlemen due in no small part to the impropriety of our nearest relations. I would not wish to be thought guilty of the same behaviour.”
“I think you shall never have to worry about such a thing. Even when I thought Mr Darcy to be our harshest critic, he said you must be excluded from a description of our family as improper or vulgar. And as we know Mr Darcy is always truthful, we must accept his word in this. That he insists on including me in that exception speaks only to the folly of love, for we are all aware I have often exhibited an impertinence nearing on incivility, particularly towards him.”
“You admit then that he loves you?” Jane teased. Elizabeth answered by throwing a nearby pillow at her sister, and the girls dissolved in a fit of laughter.
The morning of their London departure arrived and with it no small measure of anxiety for Elizabeth. While two days’ separation from Darcy had given her adequate time to evaluate her own emotions, it also left her too free to consider his. Now, as she thought of their being back in Hertfordshire, she could not but wonder if his affection for her could withstand three silly sisters, a vulgar mother, and an indolent father. She would have to shield him as much as possible while also watching to see if he could maintain his newfound determination to be civil.
“It was kind of Mr Bingley to send his carriage for us, was it not?” Elizabeth asked as they readied for the day.
“It was. My aunt and uncle were willing to send us in theirs, but he would insist on having his way,” said Jane.
