Darcy's Trial

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Darcy's Trial Page 6

by M. A. Sandiford


  ‘No, he was better for seeing you.’ She looked up tentatively, as if afraid to meet Elizabeth’s gaze. ‘Long before all this happened, he has spoken of his admiration of you, and his wish that we should meet.’ She tensed, and looked away again, before crying: ‘But I don’t understand you! My brother is all that is good and amiable. How could you reject a proposal of marriage from such a man? And having done so, why persist in seeking him out, so reminding him of his disappointment?’ She buried her head in her palms. ‘Excuse me, Miss Bennet, I know it is impertinent to speak so.’

  ‘On the contrary, I welcome your frankness.’ Elizabeth reflected for a while, before continuing: ‘In truth, I was also concerned that my last visit might upset Mr Darcy, just as you have suggested. But from your earlier note, inviting me to call again, this fear appears unwarranted.’

  ‘But what is it that you want?’ Georgiana demanded, in a voice edged with desperation.

  Elizabeth smiled. ‘You are wondering perhaps whether I have had second thoughts about rejecting your brother’s proposal? Well, to return your frankness, my opinion of your brother has certainly altered. I understand now that my former objections were based almost entirely on prejudice and misinformation. However, having refused him, I neither seek nor deserve a second chance. No, my reason for coming was to thank him for his help to my sister, which I believe you know about.’

  Miss Darcy coloured. ‘Yes, your sister has my sympathy.’ She looked away a moment, lost in thought. ‘But if you were not engaged to my brother, why should your family’s misfortune be his responsibility?’

  ‘It seems Mr Darcy interprets his responsibilities very broadly,’ Elizabeth agreed. ‘Still, I would like to thank him, as soon as he is well enough for me to raise the matter. And I would like to repay some of the debt that my family owes him, by offering such distractions as are in my power—which at present are limited to the reading of poetry.’

  Miss Darcy stiffened. ‘But Miss Bennet, for your own sake you should not have come. My brother has insisted most particularly that you stay away while this shadow hangs over him.’

  ‘Nevertheless, here I am.’ Elizabeth stood up, before continuing firmly: ‘And if you would be so kind, I should like you to show me to his room.’

  In some ways, Darcy’s chamber was unaltered. The same nurse sat in the same corner, her head bowed over an embroidery. As before, the bedside table held a stack of papers and a jug of ale, joined this time by a bowl of fruit. The same leather chair was placed facing the bed. However, the dark heavy ambience had gone, with several drapes and a window now opened, and the patient himself sitting up in bed and presenting a far healthier colour.

  Darcy observed her with his lips pressed severely together as she approached, but the light in his eyes told a different story. Feeling oddly relaxed in his presence, and more confident of her power, Elizabeth stood next to him and offered her hand, which for a few seconds he enveloped in his right hand while cupping it with his left.

  ‘I am glad to find you much better, Mr Darcy.’

  ‘You should not be here, Miss Bennet. I thought we had made that plain.’

  She snorted and retreated to the chair. ‘Is it not one of the trials of life that other people occasionally act against our wishes, as if deluded that their own ideas and plans might have merit too?’

  He sighed. ‘I see you intend to be hard on me, Miss Bennet. You were so sweet and gentle on your last visit.’

  ‘Well sir, you are stronger now, although not I fancy strong enough to leap out of your bed and catch me, so I shall say whatever I please.’

  ‘Seriously Elizabeth—I mean, Miss Bennet—my warning was not given frivolously. May I ask …’ He winced with pain as he turned slightly, so as to face her more directly. ‘May I ask if your uncle knows you are here?’

  Colouring, Elizabeth sought a way of evading this question, but lying to Darcy did not come naturally to her, and she admitted:

  ‘He does not.’

  ‘And if he did, would he approve or disapprove?’

  ‘The latter, I suppose.’

  ‘So you do understand.’ He leaned forward a fraction and dropped his voice. ‘Why did you come?’

  ‘To read to you, if that would please you.’ She hesitated a moment, fearful of taking the next step. ‘But also to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your noble generosity to my family.’

  He frowned. ‘I have not the pleasure of comprehending you, madam.’

  ‘I am referring to your rescue of Lydia.’ She held up a hand, to forestall his protest. ‘Please let me reassure you that no-one else in my family is aware of the role you played, except for my uncle and aunt, and of course Lydia herself. It is for this reason that I thank you on my family’s behalf as well as mine.’

  He shook his head. ‘I believed Mr and Mrs Gardiner more discreet.’

  ‘They said not a word, until Lydia thoughtlessly let slip your name while telling me of the wedding. Luckily we were alone, so your secret spread no further.’

  He leaned back against his pillow, looking suddenly deflated, and she continued: ‘Mr Darcy, I appreciate the mortification you must have suffered in dealing with such a man as Mr Wickham, not to mention the expense. Why you took on this responsibility I cannot say, but again you have my profound thanks and admiration.’

  After a pause, he answered: ‘If I am honest, I did it for you, and you alone.’

  Elizabeth felt a blush spread over her face and neck. Looking down, she murmured: ‘I deserved no such consideration.’

  ‘I beg to differ.’ He frowned. ‘And now I fear I have placed you under a heavy obligation, and that it is for this reason, and this reason only, that you call on me now.’

  Elizabeth kept silent, unable to contest the strong element of truth in this assertion. After a while she looked up and said:

  ‘Tell me about the duel.’

  He shrugged. ‘You will have read the newspapers.’

  ‘How did you insult this man, Sir Osborne Kaye?’

  Noting his evident reticence, she fixed him with an intent gaze, until he looked away and said: ‘It is better not to speak of it.’

  ‘Am I not to be trusted?’

  He swallowed. ‘You should understand that whatever the rights and wrongs of the case, juries are unpredictable. The best chance is that the Kaye family can be persuaded to withdraw their accusation, and to favour this eventuality, we are trying to prevent any release of information that might embarrass them.’

  ‘I see.’ She thought for a while. ‘You are saying that you witnessed, or discovered, something that was potentially embarrassing to this man and his family. But whence the insult? Did you perhaps confront Sir Osborne with his misdeed, whatever it was, and express your disapproval?’

  He began to answer, but was overcome by a fit of coughing. Pre-empting the nurse, who was setting aside her embroidery to come to Mr Darcy’s aid, Elizabeth hastily jumped up, passed him a handkerchief from the bed, and poured a glass of ale. Eagerly accepting the drink, he took several sips, which seemed to restore his throat to normal.

  ‘Thank you.’ He sighed. ‘Very well. In strict confidence, the matter is more or less as you stated it. I came upon Sir Osborne, by chance, in what might be called a compromising situation. He demanded that I should apologise for my intrusion and withdraw. I refused on both counts. He deemed this an insult and demanded satisfaction. In the event, neither of us gained much satisfaction, since he is now dead, while I lie in bed with serious injuries, awaiting trial for murder.’ He faced her again, his eyes blazing with anger. ‘I believe I once saw fit to point out the disparity between our two families. Well, the disparity still holds, but now in favour of the Bennets, not the Darcys, whom I have shamed by my actions. Until this affair is resolved, no respectable man or woman will wish to have dealings with us, and nor should you.’

  ‘I see. The mark of respectability is to abandon a friend in difficulties.’

  She noticed his eyes flicke
r on hearing the word ‘friend’, but his expression remained cold. ‘You must be practical.’

  ‘As you were practical, when helping my family recover from its disgrace?’ A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she continued: ‘But under what circumstances did you encounter Sir Osborne on the occasion of which you just spoke? Where were you exactly?’

  He shook his head and remained silent.

  ‘In some establishment of low repute, I would imagine. But what was an honourable gentleman like yourself doing in such a place? Were you by any chance searching for Mr Wickham?’

  ‘I assure you this has nothing to do with Wickham at all.’

  ‘Except, I think, that while looking for Mr Wickham among the low life of London, you accidentally stumbled on this blackguard, probably inflicting unmentionable indignities on some poor female victim.’

  Darcy gasped. ‘Really, Miss Bennet!’

  Elizabeth glared back. ‘You think me indelicate?’

  ‘I think these are not suitable matters for you to contemplate.’

  ‘In other words I am too feeble-minded to face the realities of life?’

  He slumped back, looking suddenly weary, and Elizabeth approached him gently and took his hand. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Darcy. In my impatience I am causing you stress, at a time when you need my calm support.’

  He inhaled deeply, his face relaxing. ‘I have never for a moment thought you feeble-minded.’

  ‘I guessed right about Wickham, didn’t I?’

  ‘I admit nothing.’

  She exhaled in exasperation. ‘Little though you deserve it, I have come prepared to entertain, or at least distract you.’ She pointed to her reticule. ‘In my bag is a copy of Lyrical Ballads, from which I have personally selected a number of poems guaranteed to soothe the human spirit. Do I have your permission to read to you, sir?’

  Chapter 10

  Arriving out of breath at Cavendish Square, Elizabeth found Bridget awaiting her in the parlour, where she had been studying the newspaper.

  ‘Bridget, I’m sorry …’

  ‘Ha! I wonder that you dare show your face at all!’ Bridget pointed to the mantelpiece clock, which showed 5pm. ‘Have you not read the Manual of Etiquette for Young Ladies? Punctuality, Miss Bennet, is the necessary condition for civilisation. It is a matter of common courtesy that appointments be kept at the agreed time.’

  Elizabeth snorted. ‘If you’ve quite finished, Mrs Beaumont, I am perfectly willing to explain why I have been delayed.’ She sat beside Bridget on the divan. ‘Alternatively you may wish to elaborate on the vital necessity of punctuality, but I can assure you that I have already been lectured on this topic by persons far more illustrious than yourself.’

  ‘Namely?’

  ‘Have you heard of Lady Catherine de Bourgh?’

  Bridget frowned. ‘Hmm. I don’t think I’ve met anyone of that name.’

  ‘You would certainly remember if you had. Lady Catherine is Mr D’s aunt.’

  ‘Oh.’ Suddenly serious, Bridget pointed to the newspaper. ‘D for disaster, I’m sorry to hear.’

  Elizabeth nodded. ‘And therein lies the explanation for my tardiness. I have just visited Mr Darcy, and stayed far longer than I expected.’ She touched her friend’s arm. ‘Bridget, I’m sorry about this, but it’s now so late that my aunt and uncle will be worrying about me.’ She dropped her voice. ‘I didn’t tell them about the Darcys. I said I was visiting you and would be back in time for dinner.’

  ‘Do you have a carriage outside?’

  ‘I was hoping your servant could find me a hackney.’

  Bridget thought for a few seconds. ‘Why not stay to eat with us? We can dispatch a messenger immediately to reassure your relatives, then after dinner you can return in my husband’s carriage. He is at home this evening and will have no need of it.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘There is no inconvenience at all.’ Bridget lowered her voice again. ‘I think it’s important that we talk as soon as possible about Mr Darcy’s predicament, provided you feel able to do so. I have made one or two enquiries that might be of interest—though without mentioning your name, of course.’

  Elizabeth agreed, intensely relieved by this turn of events. ‘Yes, I would love to stay and discuss this with you, and know not how to repay your kindness. Just name your forfeit, and I will oblige. I am willing to clean your silver, or to listen politely to lectures on punctuality—whatever you require.’

  ‘Hardly the latter,’ Bridget laughed. ‘We both know what Mary W. thinks of the recommended homilies on etiquette for young ladies.’ She jumped up and went to the door to call for a servant.

  These arrangements made, they repaired to Bridget’s sanctuary on the second floor, where Elizabeth recounted most of her visit to the Darcys, omitting only the half-confirmed guesses she had made about the circumstances leading to the duel.

  ‘And do you intend to call again?’ Bridget asked.

  ‘I am undecided. The doctor is now confident that the crisis has passed, and that Mr Darcy will recover his health. However, he is still frail, and stressed by the disgrace to his family, and of course the possibility that he will be found guilty of murder and sentenced to death—with horrible consequences for his sister. It seems my visits have been good for his morale, except that now he is worried about my reputation, and insists that for the time being I should keep strictly away.’ She looked up to face Bridget. ‘Do you think he is right?’

  ‘You mean, do I think your reputation might be harmed through consorting with a man accused of murder?’ Bridget smiled wrily. ‘I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but that is what anyone would think, as you must know already. Why else would you conceal your visit from your family?’ She paused, before asking: ‘Why do you feel under such an obligation to this man?’

  ‘You know why.’

  ‘Yes, he helped your sister, to the wider benefit of your family. But nobody asked him to provide this help, for which you have now fully expressed your gratitude. If a man makes a proposal of marriage and is rejected, he has no right to renew his addresses to the woman by rendering services that she never asked for in the first place. Surely you see this.’

  ‘But that was not Mr Darcy’s intention, Bridget. On the contrary, he took pains to conceal his actions from me, so that any future alteration in my feelings would arise from affection alone, and not from a sense of obligation.’

  ‘Very well, then everyone, Mr Darcy included, agrees that you owe him nothing, except perhaps the gratitude already expressed. For your part, you have rejected his proposal, you claim not to like him, let alone love him, and yet,’ Bridget spread her arms, ‘and yet you go out of your way to seek his company, and to help him in any way you can, regardless of the risk to your own reputation.’ She leaned forward, dropping her voice. ‘Something is out of joint here, Elizabeth. Manifestly you are not indifferent to this man.’

  Elizabeth considered this for a while. ‘I suppose you are right. I may not like him, but I am drawn to him. Partly through guilt that I judged him so unfairly before. Partly because of what my family owes him. Partly because I am flattered by his admiration. And yes, partly because although we quarrel much of the time, we also have conversations among the most rewarding in my experience.’

  ‘But when we spoke of Mr D before, you pronounced his company unbearable,’ Bridget grinned.

  Elizabeth frowned, ignoring her teasing. ‘There has been a change, it is true. Perhaps I have been constrained by his condition to treat him more gently, instead of trying to puncture his dignity all the time as I used to. The poetry readings have also helped, by providing a neutral topic that absorbs both of us. His comments show genuine insight and taste, while he treats me with respect and good humour. I’m reminded sometimes of conversations with my father, except that Mr Darcy is emotionally more intense. My father, much as I love him, treats everything as a joke.’

  Bridget thought for a few moments, her expression now serious. ‘I hardly know wha
t to say, Elizabeth. I suppose I should counsel you to keep your distance until the trial is over and Mr Darcy’s reputation restored. And yet …’

  ‘And yet I cannot,’ Elizabeth said, nodding agreement. ‘I feel driven to help him—if only I knew how.’

  Bridget raised a finger. ‘Then I should pass on what I know of the Kayes. Did Mr Darcy tell you anything about them?’

  ‘Only what I had already read in the Times.’

  ‘My husband knows them slightly because they are distant neighbours of Sir George Beaumont, who also has an estate in Leceistershire. The Kayes are influential because they are linked by marriage to the family of Lord Harbury, a friend of the Tory leader Mr Pitt. Lord Harbury’s sister Alice, who died a few years ago, was married to Sir Osborne Kaye, and bore him two children: Arthur, the new baronet, and a younger sister Helena. Although the family was based at Wistham Court, Sir Osborne spent most of his time in town, where he had something of a reputation as a gambler and—how shall I put this—as a ladies’ man.’

  ‘So he was not well regarded?’

  ‘It depends whom you ask. Many gentlemen gamble. Sir Osborne was seen as bold, outgoing, sometimes boorish and quarrelsome, but within his circle these traits often earn a man respect. He was not a man that one would want to cross. The same applies to his philandering. Eyebrows might be raised, but amongst the gentlemen at least there was an undercurrent of admiration.’

  ‘So what do people say of the duel?’

  ‘Nobody is sure what happened, but the assumption is that Mr Darcy caught Sir Osborne in flagrante delicto and expressed his disapproval in an insulting manner. According to the arcane rules of our male superiors,’—she flashed Elizabeth a grin—‘he thereby left Sir Osborne with no alternative to calling him out. In most such cases, the gentleman who has been challenged apologises for a remark made in the heat of the moment, and after handshakes all round, the men return to their clubs for further bouts of drinking and gambling. In stubbornly sticking to his opinion, Mr Darcy is therefore seen as unreasonable.’

 

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