by P. O. Dixon
“Mrs. Gardiner, welcome to my brother’s home. I am Georgiana Darcy.”
“Miss Darcy, it is a pleasure to meet you. I must tell you how relieved I was to hear from you and your brother regarding my niece.” She walked to Elizabeth. “You gave us quite a scare last evening, my dear. Why in heaven are you out of bed?”
“You must not fuss over me. I assure you my appearance belies how I actually feel.” Elizabeth did not miss their exchanged doubtful looks.
“Come, sit by the fire. You will find it comfortable there,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
“Yes, please have a seat. Tea should arrive momentarily.”
The warm blazing fire, tea, Mr. Darcy’s jacket ... the events of the evening before were coming back to her. She had drifted asleep on the settee. How might everything since that moment be explained?
Where is Mr. Darcy? He and I were alone by his account. How did I find myself in bed ... dressed in such fine bed clothing? Embarrassed, confused, Elizabeth felt the colour drain from her face.
“My dear Lizzy, I fear you should not be up and about. I insist you return to bed.”
“Although I will admit feeling somewhat poorly, I will manage.” She looked at Miss Darcy. “Again, I appreciate your kindness.” Elizabeth turned to her aunt. “I would like to return to Cheapside, as soon as can be.”
“I dare not argue with you, though I would much rather not risk your health by exposing you to the outside elements for any considerable length of time.”
“You fail to understand! I must leave. I promise I shall rest once we are home.”
Once again, Elizabeth discerned their mutual scepticism, only this time laced with resignation.
“I shall call for the carriage,” Georgiana said.
* * *
Darcy found his sister in the drawing room upon his return. “Have you visited Miss Elizabeth this morning? Is she resting?”
“Miss Elizabeth is not here.”
Her words struck him like a punch in the stomach. “Not here?”
“When her aunt, Mrs. Gardiner, arrived this morning with her things, Miss Elizabeth insisted she was well enough to return to the Gardiners’ home.”
“I find that difficult to conceive.” Darcy endeavoured to mask his disappointment. She suffered a fitful sleep most of the night. “How did you find her? Is she truly recovered … enough to travel across town?”
“That, I cannot say.” She placed her hand on his. “Miss Elizabeth was adamant she should return to her relatives’ home rather than remain here at Darcy House. She is safe from harm, Brother. You need not fret. I believe it is for the best that she should be allowed to recuperate amongst her loved ones.”
Darcy smiled warily.
“With your permission, I shall call on Miss Elizabeth in a day or two. Try not to worry.” She lifted herself upon her toes and kissed his chiselled chin before quitting the room.
His young sister was right. Elizabeth’s leaving his home before he had a chance to say or do something he might regret was for the best. Would to heaven that those words held sway over his wounded heart.
Chapter 5
Lady Gwendolen Helmsley sat across the table from her brother. She had outdone herself as the lady of the house again. By all accounts, the party was heralded a success. The usual friends and aristocratic family members had been in attendance: Lord and Lady Langley; Lord and Lady Hathaway; Sir Lewis Downing and his wife, Mildred; Mr. Darcy; and lastly, the enchanting young widow, Juliette, Duchess of Sexton. Lord Latham would have it no other way; insisting that if the Duchess were not in attendance, there would be no party. Lady Gwendolen had protested as usual. She did not like Her Grace for some odd reason she could never quite make out. Indeed, she had done her part, even going out of her way to make the Duchess feel welcomed.
Now, if only her brother would do his part. He and Fitzwilliam Darcy were best friends after all … had been for years. As much as she esteemed her role as the hostess in her brother’s home, she wanted more. She longed to be mistress of her own home, mistress of Pemberley.
Her ladyship tapped her fingers and blew out her breath, gently disturbing the loose strands of hair crowning her forehead, as well as one rather bothered earl.
Lord Latham laid his paper aside. “I grant you my undivided attention, my lady.”
“At last, his lordship deigns to acknowledge the presence of his favourite sister.”
“My only sister.”
She ignored his jest for she knew she was more than his favourite sister. He had said many times that she was his favourite person in the world. They were inseparable. Her senior by seven years, he had been more a parent to her than a brother, even though fewer than four years had passed since they lost their mother and father.
“Have you heard from Mr. Darcy? What are his plans for the Season?”
“He was our guest for three weeks. Surely, you were able to use your feminine wiles to your advantage and glean such information for yourself.”
“Please, Trevor, do not patronise me. He treated me as your little sister, much the same as when you first brought him home during the holiday all those years ago.”
“I dare say you are mistaken.”
“What? Oh, Trevor, you must not tease me today. Tell me what he said, please. Heaven knows he barely utters a word to me.”
“Let us say he is mindful of my feelings as regards a possible alliance between our families. I did champion you.”
“How? What did you say, sweet brother? I must know.”
“I told him you are the opposite of the women he abhors as evident by your shy demeanour around him. Although I have explained how lively and gay you are when he is absent. I reminded him that you are now fully grown and an accomplished woman with beauty and a fortune of your own. You would enhance his status, and I would welcome him as a brother. However, his response is such that I dare not discuss. Darcy is my friend and confidant.” He patted her hand.
“Please, Trevor. I must know if I have a chance. Do not tease me.”
He placed his hand upon her arm. “Please, dearest, have patience. Darcy will come around.”
“So he does not want me.” She sighed. Her shoulders fell.
“You will have your Mr. Darcy.”
“How?”
“I shall continue to take every opportunity to remind him that you are the only choice he could ever possibly make for a wife. Does that satisfy your ladyship?”
Lady Gwendolen stood from her chair and waltzed to her brother’s side. Delighted by his news, she kissed his strong, sculpted chin. She could always count on him.
* * *
“Miss Darcy bestowed a great kindness in calling on you,” Mrs. Gardiner said as she began fussing over her niece, straightening the bed covers around Elizabeth’s waist, fluffing and rearranging the pillows, and the like.
“Indeed.” Elizabeth’s tone suggested she still did not know what to make of the visit. Miss Darcy had shown none of the haughtiness of her brother, which Mr. Wickham had ascribed to her. Perhaps he had described her as she had been during a more trying time of youth.
“It speaks highly of Mr. Darcy, as well, to have sent his personal physician to attend you.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy is the epitome of kindness.”
Mrs. Gardiner raised her eyebrow. “Far different from the man whom Mr. Wickham described when we were introduced in Hertfordshire, I might add.”
“I am not totally resolved against Mr. Wickham’s account, I am afraid. Yes, Mr. Darcy sent his physician to check on my health. That speaks as much to his wealth as to his goodness as a human being.” In Elizabeth’s opinion, were Mr. Darcy truly concerned for her welfare, he might have come himself, rather than send his sister as his surrogate. Not that she wanted to see him.
“I caution you, Lizzy, not to think too fondly of Mr. Wickham’s opinion and too poorly of Mr. Darcy’s, a man one hundred times the lieutenant’s worth. Mind you, I speak of more than his fortune.”
“You sound like Charlotte, for she uttered words along a similar vein. However, for reasons I care not to discuss, I am inclined to disagree. Mr. Wickham is worth more than all the Mr. Darcys in the world.” Elizabeth smiled at her outrageous sentiments, knowing full well that such a thing was improbable—a sure sign as any of the return of her good spirits.
“Lizzy, I am glad your health is recovered. I want to discuss a particular matter with you.”
“What matter is that?”
“Well, Lizzy, obviously Miss Darcy and you have no prior acquaintance. You do not even like Mr. Darcy. How did you come to be in his home ... all the way across town?”
“My dear aunt, please do not think me foolish. I know my behaviour in going to Mr. Darcy’s home was unconscionable. I offer no excuse except my love for my sister demanded I go. Jane is as miserable now as she was over Christmas.
“You must remember how she comported herself, refusing to join in the celebration of the season with the rest of the family.” Elizabeth cradled her knees to her chest. “Mr. Bingley’s abandonment rendered her heart-broken. Things grew worse when she received a letter from Miss Caroline Bingley saying they were not to return to Hertfordshire, not for the winter, perhaps not ever. She even hinted of an alliance between Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley as the reason. Jane is devastated.”
“What a shame. I am sorry to hear how awful things are. Perhaps, Lizzy, that explains your sullen reception of Miss Darcy. It does not explain why, or even how, you found yourself in her brother’s home.”
“I had not intended to call on Mr. Darcy. I initially called on Miss Bingley, with the hope of seeing Mr. Bingley, as well. All she did was expound on her earlier lies and even compounded them by saying her brother was not in town.” Elizabeth gave her aunt a full account of the visit. Commencing upon an explanation of the subsequent events, she said, “I knew from our past acquaintance in Hertfordshire that Mr. Darcy lived nearby, I knew not where, but I was able to find out with the assistance of the coachman. As with Miss Bingley, I saw no harm in calling on Miss Darcy with the hope of gaining an audience with her brother.” Her account might have suffered a bit of embellishment. However, Miss Darcy had not let on that she was not in residence at her brother’s home at the time of Elizabeth’s arrival; Elizabeth saw no need to alter that perception. “I wanted to find out for myself the truth of Miss Bingley’s assertions that her brother was out of town. I also went there to ask for his assistance in persuading Mr. Bingley of Jane’s love for him.”
“Nothing would come of my scolding you now on the indecorous manner in which you chose to help Jane. I ask only that you think better of what you are about before taking on such an endeavour again.” After a moment, Mrs. Gardiner touched Elizabeth’s chin. “I take it by your low opinion of Mr. Darcy that he did not heed your request for his assistance.”
“Indeed, he did not, so I wasted my time. He will not help. He said as much.” Elizabeth frowned. She crossed her arms. “I am exceedingly vexed. What is more, I failed to discern whether Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley are attached. I asked Mr. Darcy directly, and he refused to answer.
“From what I have seen of Miss Darcy, I cannot conceive how it might be true. She is far too young to entertain notions of marriage. If anything, I suspect Mr. Darcy is more interested in having Mr. Bingley as a brother than Miss Darcy is interested in having Mr. Bingley as a husband.”
Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “It seems you have everything figured out.” She stood and prepared to leave. “Please, rest now. Remember, Lady Susan is joining us for dinner tomorrow. She is most anxious to meet you. By the way, have you thought about her proposal?”
Elizabeth’s countenance spoke to her lack of resolve towards Lady Susan’s scheme. She had yet to meet her, and thus no basis for feeling one way or another. Besides, Elizabeth had but a single purpose in being in town. Her aunt had no way of knowing that when she first agreed to propose the scheme to Elizabeth.
“Truth be told, Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner said, “I suppose Lady Susan is lonely. She is seeking to reintroduce herself into society since the death of her husband; therefore, she has extended this invitation. It will give her some sense of purpose, if you will.”
“Why me? I have no interest in being a paid companion.”
“Who said anything of the kind? I assure you her intention is not to hire you. You are a gentleman’s daughter. You would be as much a companion to Lady Susan as she would be a companion to you.”
Mrs. Gardiner turned to leave the room. “You need not make your decision now, Lizzy. Meet Lady Susan and decide for yourself if you are interested in spending time with her over the coming weeks.”
Elizabeth considered her aunt’s words carefully. Lady Susan would surely travel amongst the highest circles of Society. She would no doubt have an opportunity to see Mr. Bingley.
Why did I not think of this before? Indeed, Lady Susan’s invitation is the answer to my dilemma.
* * *
The next evening, Elizabeth sat at the dressing table, preparing her hair and looking into the mirror, searching her memory for answers she was not even sure she wanted. The reflexion of the untouched cup of tea on her bedside table unsettled her. She had acquired a decided dislike of tea of late. Unable to explain it, she surmised she had better get over it, for she would sooner give up breathing than stop having tea.
Elizabeth furrowed her brow. Not knowing what may or may not have happened at Mr. Darcy’s home was a matter she found hard to reconcile. It bothered her.
Why am I unable to recall anything? Flummoxed, she pushed such worries aside and deliberated instead upon her latest scheme. She liked this new plan, for it would surely put her in Mr. Bingley’s path.
Of course, travelling in the same circles as Mr. Bingley meant she might also come across Mr. Darcy. What must it be like seeing him again? Elizabeth frowned. Why am I always thinking of him? She sought a distraction. She removed a recent letter from her dressing table drawer and read it for a second time.
My dear Lizzy,
To answer the question that must surely be uppermost in your mind, Jane fares no better, but no worse, preferring still to pass the bulk of her time in solitary.
As promised, I have said nothing to her of your plans. With that being said, in no way do I pardon your decision to seek out the gentleman from Netherfield Park to ascertain the workings of his heart as regards our eldest sister. I, like Jane, believe his actions speak to his purposes.
My feelings on the matter, however, in no way preclude my curiosity in hearing of your success in your undertaking to unmask the well-concealed sentiments of said gentleman’s mind. Have you had occasion to meet with him, to speak with him?
Pray do not keep me in suspense, as I will endeavour to sate your curiosity over the comings and goings here. Your place at our dinner table, as well as Jane’s, I regretfully add, are often enjoyed by the dashing (Lydia’s words, not mine) Mr. Wickham and his friend Mr. Denny, instead. The gentlemen are determined to make Longbourn their home away from home, giving Mama, Lydia, and Kitty as much satisfaction as anyone who knows of their adulation of a red coat might expect. Papa’s sentiments are not as easily discerned. He spends more time in his library now than ever before.
The first hints of spring have heightened our youngest sisters’ enthusiasm for walking to Meryton every day with the anticipated delight of returning with the aforementioned gentlemen. I am reminded of Fordyce’s words in this regard, for men can be forgiven many faults for which no such mercy awaits the female.
Though I shall not be accused of gossiping, it is said that the sudden acquisition of ten thousand pounds has embellished the most remarkable charms of Miss King, the young lady to whom Mr. Wickham renders himself exceedingly agreeable. Whilst I know you are apt to think rather fondly of the gentleman, I can only wonder where he finds the time to spread his prettiness as thin as he does.
You now have the whole of it. Before closing, I shall take this opportunity to remind you to be care
ful in your pursuit of true love and happiness on our eldest sister’s behalf.
Your loving sister,
Mary
As satisfied as she could be with Mary’s account of Jane, Elizabeth folded the letter and placed it in the top drawer of her dressing table. She soon found herself mulling over other snippets.
One can hardly blame Mr. Wickham for his attentiveness to Miss King. I shall not fault him one bit. So what if he does marry her with the prospect of controlling her fortune of ten thousand pounds? Would that render him any less a good husband? I think not!
Thoughts of Mr. Wickham’s fate gave way to thoughts of his nemesis, the man who had wronged him and had thought little of doing so. Had Mr. Darcy honoured the dictates of the elder Mr. Darcy’s will, and given Mr. Wickham the living in Kympton that he ought to have had, none of this would be happening. Rather than a poor lieutenant with little to offer, he would be a suitable husband for any woman. Elizabeth smiled in fond remembrance of the gentleman. Indeed, I hope he finds happiness with Miss King.
He has been a true friend, and he was right about the haughty gentleman from Derbyshire.
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said aloud. “What a waste of my time and efforts.”
She resolved she would have no ally in Mr. Darcy. After what occurred in his home, is it any wonder he has no wish to see me? Elizabeth cocked her head to the side and studied her reflexion.
What exactly did happen? One minute I was sitting by the fire; next thing I found myself awakening in the mistress’s suite.
Elizabeth looked around her bedchamber. The apartment was amazing. Ivory coloured curtains with precious interwoven strands of gold, awe-inspiring paintings, richly sculptured mahogany furniture. To be mistress of such a place would be something.
Elizabeth returned her gaze to her mirror. She ran her fingers along the sleeve of her muslin gown. How many times had she worn it? Miss Darcy’s gown looked as if it had never been worn before that day. Elizabeth sighed. I would not wish for a thousand such gowns, not if it meant being associated with Mr. Darcy. He is far more arrogant than I ever suspected during our initial acquaintance.
