“Only this.”
At least it gave her an excuse to leave Jane’s side. She took the letter absently, then, seeing it was in her aunt’s handwriting, broke the seal and opened it with greater alacrity. She had seen Mrs. Gardiner only two days ago. What could merit a letter already?
It was quite brief, and she read through it twice before slowly folding it again, tapping it thoughtfully against her other hand. “Hill, I will be needing the small trunk in my room. I will be travelling to London on the morning stage.”
Jane looked up from her tête-à-tête with the colonel. “To London? But why?”
Elizabeth held out the letter to her. “Mrs. Gardiner feels it is important for me to be there at my very earliest convenience, but she does not say why, except that she does not believe that our father will be returning here tomorrow after all. I mislike leaving you here to deal with our mother, but I assume our aunt has some good reason for her request.” The only other time she recalled this level of mystery from her aunt was regarding their trip to Pemberley. Perhaps this also involved Darcy somehow.
The idea that she might be able to see him sent a surge of relief through her, almost enough to make her weep. It had been only a week since she had bidden him farewell in Derbyshire, but it felt like much longer. So often in these last few stressful days she had longed for his presence and the comfort of his arms around her.
The colonel resumed his seat. “Miss Elizabeth, did you say that you plan to take the stage to London?”
“Yes, that is how we usually travel. Our carriage is not suited for long journeys, and the horses can rarely be spared.” She smiled impishly at him. “Let me guess – you are about to tell me that your life and limbs will be in serious jeopardy if your cousin ever discovers that you allowed me to travel by stage. Do not worry; I will tell him it is all my fault.”
He laughed. “If it were only a matter of facing a pummeling from him, I could meet that with equanimity. However, in this case he would be in the right, which is far more annoying. I hope you will be merciful enough to spare me the ensuing self-flagellation by permitting me to arrange for a private carriage.”
“I appreciate the generous offer, but you must know that I cannot allow you to go to such an expense on my behalf.”
He winked at her. “Nonsense. I intend to make Darcy foot the bill, and he will be more than happy to do so.”
Chapter 18
The colonel was better than his word. While Elizabeth packed, he made arrangements with a livery stable in Meryton for a carriage and driver to take her to London that very afternoon, even hiring a maid from the inn to chaperone her. He rode beside the open carriage the entire way, enlivening her journey with occasional anecdotes that prevented her for the most part from ruminating on the reason for her aunt’s summons.
At Gracechurch Street, he walked her to the door and remained long enough to be introduced to Mrs. Gardiner and receive her thanks for the safe delivery of her niece, but declined an invitation to enter. “I must be on my way, as I am hoping I can still meet with Darcy today. I may be able to render him some assistance in this matter.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to express her gratitude, but her aunt spoke first. “If you are seeking Mr. Darcy, why, he is here in our sitting room. Are you certain you will not come in?”
“In that case, how could I refuse?” The colonel straightened his coat.
Elizabeth had already forgotten his presence, instead peering over her aunt’s shoulder and longing to move past her to reach Darcy. It was not until they reached the door of the sitting room that it occurred to her with a flash of foreboding that her father was likely to be there as well. Her smile froze on her face at the sight of Mr. Bennet in his favorite chair.
Darcy, his expression one of surprise and heartfelt delight, was at her side in a few quick strides. For a moment she thought he intended to embrace her, but he pulled back just in time, taking her hands in his instead. Their fingers twined together as she drank in the sight of him, even while waiting for the protest certain to come from her father.
Mr. Bennet was eyeing them with no great pleasure, but in response to Elizabeth’s worried look, he said dryly, “There is no cause to fret, Lizzy. We are managing to be relatively civil today, at least most of the time. But what brings you here?”
Elizabeth decided that discretion was the better part of valor and deliberately misunderstood him. “Colonel Fitzwilliam was kind enough to arrange for a private carriage. He rode beside it the entire way.”
Mrs. Gardiner came to her rescue. “I wrote to Lizzy and asked her to come,” she said tartly. “I hoped she might have better luck than I have had in keeping the peace.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed in Mr. Bennet’s direction. “I am an uninvited guest. I happened to be calling when Miss Elizabeth received Mrs. Gardiner’s letter. She was planning to take the public stage alone, which I did not think would meet with Darcy’s approval.”
Darcy, it appeared, was not listening to his cousin, instead occupying himself with gazing into Elizabeth’s eyes, a slight smile on his lips. “Thank you for coming,” he said softly, for her ears alone.
Elizabeth wanted nothing so much as to be in his arms, but she dared not even touch his cheek for fear of her father’s reaction. Instead of the tender words she wished to say, she said only, “Your cousin made the journey an easy one. He has taken very good care of me today.” Only when she saw the furrow between his brow did she realize that he might not be pleased that she had been accompanied by Colonel Fitzwilliam. She added, “Jane was disappointed to be deprived of his company so quickly. Apparently he has become a regular visitor at Longbourn.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam took a glass of wine offered to him by Mr. Gardiner. “Mr. Bennet, your daughters shared with me some of the particulars of why you are in London. I hope you will permit me to offer you my assistance in locating Miss Lydia.”
Mr. Bennet pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I appreciate that you had the courtesy to ask my permission before taking action, but it is unnecessary. The fugitives have been located.”
Elizabeth’s eyes flew to her father’s face. “Is she here? Is she safe?”
Her father merely raised an eyebrow. Darcy said, “She is well, but she refuses to leave Wickham, insisting that they will be married at some point, and that it does not matter when that should take place. Wickham admits privately that he has no intention of marrying her, but he is willing to do so under certain circumstances.”
Mr. Bennet said, “So you now find us addressing the crux of the matter, which is the question of whether Darcy or I can be more obstinate about footing the bill. Sit down, Lizzy; you will give me a stiff neck from looking up at you.”
She obeyed, but allowed Darcy to lead her to the loveseat where he sat beside her. “You are both firm in your resolve,” she said carefully, “but I must admit that in my experience, Mr. Darcy can be more persistent than most of my acquaintance.”
Her father raised his glass. “Stubborn as a mule is how I would describe it.”
The colonel laughed. “Very perceptive of you, I must say!”
Darcy said evenly, “It is my responsibility, and I will meet it as I see fit.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam leaned toward Mr. Bennet as if to speak confidentially, but his tone was audible to everyone in the room. “If this is a matter of his responsibilities, I can only advise you to retire from the field now. Darcy is utterly hopeless on this subject.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled. “How very kindly your cousin speaks of you, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy shifted to glance at Elizabeth, then back at Mr. Bennet. “I had not realized that you and my cousin were on such friendly terms.”
“Why, what could I possibly object to about the good colonel? True, he has threatened to run me through, slandered my daughter, and raised his voice to me, but apart from that he has been a perfect gentleman,” said Mr. Bennet genially.
Elizabeth leaned toward Darcy. “He is skipping
the part when he tried to run your cousin off the grounds at Longbourn, as well as a few other key details.” She lowered her voice. “But if he is teasing you, that is an improvement greater than I could have hoped for.”
“So I gathered,” he whispered back, taking her hand once again, as if he could not help himself. At Mr. Bennet’s pointed frown, he would have released it, but Elizabeth tightened her grip.
Mrs. Gardiner inquired politely after the family at Longbourn, and from the discussion that followed, Elizabeth could ascertain that her father had no intention of returning home quickly. She wondered how much of a role Darcy’s presence had in changing his mind, and how the Gardiners had explained their acquaintance with him. She would have to wait to ask her aunt these questions.
Darcy did not take an active role in this part of the conversation, and in fact barely seemed to be attending to it, since his eyes rested on Elizabeth the entire time, his expression warm.
Mr. Bennet watched the interplay with a sour expression, then said abruptly, “I take it your father is no longer with us, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy looked surprised by this question, as well he might be since he could not otherwise be in possession of Pemberley, but he still replied civilly. “I am sorry to say he died some five years ago.”
“And no doubt devoted to Lord Matlock till the end.”
Darcy and the colonel exchanged puzzled glances. “My father and my uncle were never friends.”
“Oh, come now. Your father was high in Matlock’s favor at school, and later married his sister. That does not sound like enmity to me.”
“Married his sister to spite him, you mean,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam with a laugh. “You must have heard the public version. My father wanted my aunt to marry a dissipated old marquis with deep pockets, but she threw herself on the mercy of her childhood friend Darcy, who eloped with her solely to prevent the match. By all reports, my father was livid.”
Mr. Bennet’s upper lip curled. “Forgive me for thinking that beyond unlikely, given that they were friends.”
“Perhaps at one time they were friends; I do not know,” said Darcy evenly. “All I know is that my father was sent down from Cambridge and that he blamed my uncle for it, believing he had caused it deliberately. I do not know the details, but he harbored a grudge until the day he died. My uncle never acknowledged their marriage, and if he happened to encounter either of them in town, he gave them the cut direct. I would never have known my cousin here were it not for the efforts of Lady Matlock to bring us together.”
To Elizabeth’s relief, Colonel Fitzwilliam took this as a cue to relate various amusing tales of his childhood escapades with Darcy. With support from Mrs. Gardiner, he managed to keep the conversation along civil lines for half an hour. It was then past time for the gentlemen to take their leave since they had not been invited to dinner, although Darcy showed distinct reluctance to part from Elizabeth.
Elizabeth knew better than to try to obtain any private conversation with Darcy, communicating instead through glances and their joined hands. She longed for a little time with him away from the accusing eyes of her father. She knew better than to hope for it, though.
Despite the presence of the Gardiners, the room felt empty to Elizabeth once Darcy left. Foreboding filled her each time she looked at her father. She considered retiring to bed early in order to avoid being alone with him, but that would just delay the inevitable and give her a sleepless night as well. No, it would be better to face his wrath and whatever punishment he chose to mete out to her, even if it was to send her back to Longbourn in the morning. At least this time she could count on her uncle to inform Mr. Darcy of her departure, and would not have to worry about his reaction to her absence. Her anxiety rose with each minute that ticked by on the ornate mantelpiece clock. She found herself in the highly unusual position of wishing for some needlework; much as she disliked the exercise, at least it would have kept her hands busy and given her something of a distraction.
Mrs. Gardiner, apparently sensing the tension between the two, requested her husband’s assistance with putting the children to bed. It was not the best of excuses since they all knew it was not the usual custom for the household, but Elizabeth said nothing while Mr. Bennet only raised an eyebrow.
Once they were alone, Mr. Bennet removed his eyeglasses and rubbed the lenses with his handkerchief, holding them up to the light to check for any remaining marks on the glass. He took longer than usual in folding the glasses and wrapping them in the soft cloth. Then he closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, as if his eyes pained him.
Elizabeth sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap, but tension crawled through her neck and shoulders. This pause filled her with dread. It had felt so much easier to face her father when Darcy had been beside her. She fixed her gaze on the indentation on the cushion beside her where he had sat. If only she could conjure up his presence in reality!
“Well, Lizzy.” Her father’s hand finally left his face, and Elizabeth noticed for the first time how much older he appeared.
She could think of no appropriate response, so she said nothing, instead simply waiting for the scolding to begin.
“I suppose I must withdraw my objection to your engagement.” His mouth twisted as if he had tasted something unpleasant.
Taken by happy surprise, she began to thank him, then reconsidered. His entire countenance told her this was a grudging concession. “I am glad of it, even if you do not seem to be.”
“He left me damned little choice!” Mr. Bennet scowled as he rubbed his hand along the wooden chair arm. “Why else would he insist on taking charge of Lydia’s marriage if not to force me to accede to his own?”
Unreasoning fury filled Elizabeth. “Why are you so determined to misinterpret everything he does? He would have done the same regardless of your attitude. He takes his responsibilities more seriously than you can perhaps imagine, and what is more, I think you know it! Would it be so hard for you to admit that he has even one redeeming feature?”
Mr. Bennet shrugged dismissively. “Very well, if you insist. Perhaps he is decent enough in his own way, but rich clothing and fine jewels will not make up for the lack of respect you can expect from him. He comes from a different world, and you will not be happy with him.”
“I have not been happy at Longbourn of late! If we are to speak of respect, why have you shown none to me during all this? You do not know him at all, yet you insist on maligning him. You have a grudge against his uncle, that is well and good; but I defy you to show me even one way in which his behavior resembles Lord Matlock! Or perhaps you think I should be condemned forever as hopeless merely because my mother is silly? He is not his uncle, nor his father, nor anyone but himself! Tell me, do you think my aunt and uncle Gardiner’s judgment to be as faulty as mine? They do not think ill of him, and they know him better than you do! But no, everyone else must be wrong, simply because they hold a different opinion from you!” Elizabeth had lost all judgment in her anger as the words she had held back all these months came tumbling out.
“I am giving you my permission to marry him,” he said heavily. “Do not ask for more than that.”
“Perhaps I should have taken a lesson from Lydia! She seems to have earned your consent much more easily, even though she is to marry a worthless, immoral blackguard!”
“Good night, Lizzy.” Mr. Bennet pushed himself up from his chair.
For the first time Elizabeth noticed that his complexion had taken on a greyish tinge. She hurried to take his elbow. “Please, sit down,” she said, in a very different tone. “You are not well. Perhaps some wine will help.” The decanter was nearly empty, but she poured what little remained into a wineglass and handed it to her father. His breathing was shallow. Grimacing, he pressed his hand to his chest.
“Wait here – do not move.” Elizabeth raced up the stairs, holding her skirt up almost to her knees to allow her to move faster. She found Mrs. Gardiner in the
nursery, tucking her daughter into bed. Grabbing her aunt’s arm, she cried, “Oh, please come! My father is ill, very ill!”
Mrs. Gardiner took one look at her niece’s face and hurried after her.
***
More than two hours later, Elizabeth’s feet were sore from her constant pacing, but she welcomed the pain. “It was my fault! I was so angry with him.”
Mrs. Gardiner had responded to this so many times that she had given up repeating her reassurances that Elizabeth’s actions had nothing to do with it. “Let us wait to hear what the doctor says. After all, he had an episode similar to this when he first arrived, and the next morning he was quite himself again.”
“I should not have said such things to him. I know it!”
A heavy tread in the hallway presaged the return of Dr. Jenniston. Elizabeth clasped her hands together tightly as the heavyset gentleman appeared in the doorway. Mr. Gardiner set down the newspaper behind which he had been hiding.
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