“You will miss Bingley’s wedding as well!”
Darcy experienced a twinge of guilt. “I penned a letter of apology to Bingley.”
Richard sank into a dustcloth-covered chair. “This is ridiculous! When did you become so impulsive? It must be Bingley’s influence.”
Darcy laughed, although it sounded hollow to his ears. “I have wished to visit America for some time. My business affairs are stable. The opportunity presented itself.”
“I have never heard you express a desire to visit America,” Richard observed. Darcy merely shrugged. “What about Georgiana? Will she be safe in such a savage country?”
“It is not darkest Africa.” Darcy grinned. “I am fairly certain they have cooked food and draperies and banks – among other trappings of civilization.” Richard merely folded his arms over his chest. “I will write to you. Mail is regular—every two weeks or so depending on the winds. If any tricky estate issues arise, I am happy to advise you by letter.”
Richard snorted. “Hang the estate!” He stood and looked Darcy directly in the eye. Did he suspect Darcy was hiding something? God willing, he would never guess what.
Richard finally shook his head and walked restlessly to the window. “I-I will miss you, William.” Darcy was touched. He knew that removing himself from England—and temptation—was the best course, but he would miss his cousin’s company.
“I will miss you as well.” Darcy crossed the room to rest his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “But we will return before you have had a chance to notice we are gone.”
Chapter 5
“I cannot believe it has been nearly a year!” Georgiana exclaimed.
“It did pass quickly,” Darcy agreed. They had viewed many corners of the new country of America and met many interesting people. They had not intended to remain so long, but the promise of some new wonder or intriguing place would always entice them. And in truth, both Darcy and Georgiana had reasons to delay their return to England.
In fact, if Darcy had not been concerned about growing tensions between England and America over naval issues, they might have remained longer. But if the two countries went to war, crossing the Atlantic would be fraught with danger.
It had been almost a year since Darcy had stood on the deck of a ship crossing the Atlantic Ocean to the New World. Now he crossed in the other direction, pleased that a thin, gray band of English coastline was within sight. Darcy experienced an unexpected swell of emotion. Despite the attendant anxiety, he was very happy to be home.
Georgiana stood beside him, one hand on her bonnet lest it blow away. Darcy had dispensed with his hat altogether while up on deck. Darcy glanced down at her. “Well, dear heart, are you happy to be back?”
“Oh, yes!” she breathed. “I shall miss all the friends we made during our travels—and I do hope Uncle Clive comes for a visit—but America is not home. I cannot wait to see Pemberley again!”
Darcy smiled indulgently. “I missed Pemberley as well.” Traveling had been beneficial for Georgiana. Away from the pressures and snares of the ton, she had blossomed as a mature young woman and grown in confidence.
“But mostly, I cannot wait to see everyone! Mrs. Reynolds and Cook and Mary at Darcy House. And Gwendolyn and Cecily.” During their travels, Georgiana had maintained correspondences with many school friends. “And even Uncle and Aunt Fitzwilliam. But especially Elizabeth and Richard!”
America had been a refuge for Darcy. It was a relief to know he would not encounter Elizabeth at a dinner party or a stroll in Hyde Park. The entire continent had been blessedly free of Elizabeth.
Unfortunately, Elizabeth was not equally absent from Darcy’s dreams—waking and sleeping. Everywhere there were little reminders. He would see a dress that reminded him of one she wore, discover a book they had discussed, or hear a piece of music she had played. Such incidents would often provoke black moods, which he endeavored to conceal from Georgiana.
These occurrences had decreased in frequency, however, and Darcy hoped that seeing her married to his cousin would allow him to banish this obsession forever.
If not … no, it did not bear thinking on. Friendship with Elizabeth and Richard was important to Georgiana—and to Darcy himself. The thought of permanent exile was insupportable. Darcy would simply have to further hone his thespian abilities.
“Oh, may we visit them first?” Georgiana asked. “I wish to see Elizabeth’s wedding dress, and she has a duet to learn with me.”
Darcy hugged his sister close to his side. “They should be in town, unless they are still on their wedding trip.”
Letters to Darcy and Georgiana had described how Richard and Elizabeth had delayed the wedding because of the scandal surrounding Lydia’s marriage. Then came the news that Lydia was with child and too ill to travel for the wedding. Softhearted Elizabeth had agreed to delay the event until Lydia was well enough to travel. Tragically, Lydia had delivered a stillborn child too early and then had followed him into death.
The entire Bennet family thus entered into a period of mourning, during which it was unthinkable to conduct a wedding ceremony. Just as the mourning period was drawing to a close, Mr. Bennet had fallen ill, and Elizabeth had been needed at Longbourn to help care for him.
In a letter to Darcy, Richard had joked that the entire Bennet family seemed to conspire to prevent their marriage. The last letter from his cousin had been four weeks ago—just before Darcy and Georgiana had departed for a two-week tour of New England prior to boarding a ship in Boston. Richard had written the letter two days before the wedding date, so by now the couple would have been wed several weeks.
Selfishly, Darcy was relieved to be spared attendance at the wedding ceremony. Although Georgiana would have loved to witness the event, Darcy could not imagine calmly sitting in a pew while his heart shattered.
“William! I see church spires!” Georgiana exclaimed joyfully. “We are so close. Will we see Richard and Elizabeth first? I have missed them so!”
More than a year of practice helped Darcy conceal the anxiety flooding his body. “Naturally, dear one. I can deny you nothing.” He even produced a smile for his sister.
***
As they walked down the street, drawing ever closer to Fitzwilliam’s townhouse, Darcy breathed deeply, attempting to quiet the agitation in his chest. This visit reminded him uncomfortably of the awful betrothal dinner. Desperately, he prayed that time apart and the sight of Elizabeth as a married woman would break her hold on him.
As they drew closer to the house, Darcy espied a dark figure on the porch, closing the door and walking slowly down the steps to the sidewalk.
Forgetting herself, Georgiana rushed the remaining distance, calling, “Elizabeth!”
Elizabeth looked up at them, her mouth slightly open in surprise. Her eyes were wide, a rich dark blue, and her glossy dark hair hung in curls around her face. She was so beautiful it stole the breath from his body.
In that moment, he knew all of his efforts had been for naught. Hundreds of miles and a year’s worth of days—and it came to nothing. He was still as much in love with Elizabeth as he had ever been.
And he always would be.
Elizabeth gave a small smile as Georgiana nearly collided with her and then wrapped her in an enthusiastic embrace. Darcy could not stifle his grin. It was a rare occasion indeed when Georgiana was the more exuberant of the two women.
Only after Georgiana released Elizabeth did Darcy realized she was dressed in black. From her hat to her shoes. Mourning! But for whom? Had her father passed away? Had the wedding been further delayed?
Darcy gave her a small bow. This close, he noticed how thin she was; had she neglected to eat while nursing her father? Her skin was pale and tight. Yes, she was beautiful, but he felt a chill of alarm at her pallor and the haunted look in her eyes. Something was very wrong.
“Mr. Darcy.” Her slight smile did not reach her eyes. “How long have you been in Town?”
“We only arrived
today!” Georgiana announced. “We changed clothes at Darcy House—which is all in an uproar because they never received William’s letter informing them we were returning—and then we ventured out again to see you and Richard!”
Elizabeth started. Her eyes darted from Georgiana to Darcy. “Did you not receive the last letters I sent you?” Darcy shook his head mutely, a deep sense of alarm forming in his chest. “I sent you several letters—beginning four weeks ago.” Elizabeth had written directly to him? What could have prompted it?
“We were visiting New England for two weeks before we sailed; it would have been difficult for any letter to reach us,” Darcy explained.
“Oh.” Elizabeth’s stricken face further stoked Darcy’s anxiety. Elizabeth would not have written to inform him of her father’s death or a similar Bennet family crisis. She would have left that to Richard.
“What is it?” he demanded, anxiety making his voice rough. “What has happened?”
He saw tears gather in her eyes. She looked wildly about her as if hoping someone else would take this unpleasant task from her.
“Oh, Georgiana, Mr. Darcy, I am so sorry to have to tell you. Richard is dead.”
Chapter 6
Tears spilled down Elizabeth’s cheeks as she said the words, but she kept her gaze fixed on them.
Darcy had known awful news was coming, but he had not been truly prepared for the full horror. His mind wanted to reject her words.
Not Richard.
Not Richard!
It must be a mistake. A ghastly joke.
No. No.
But the truth was written on Elizabeth’s face.
The ground seemed to shift beneath his feet, a huge sinkhole sucking him down into the earth where no light or air could penetrate. He felt his heart beating at a galloping pace, and his breathing emerged in great constricted gasps.
“I-I believed you had—” Elizabeth’s voice was constricted with emotion. “I t-thought my letters about Richard had prompted your return.”
Darcy simply shook his head, unable to form a response.
Without a word or sound, Georgiana collapsed on the cobblestones beside him.
“Georgiana!” Darcy’s cry was almost as a scream. I cannot lose her as well!
He gathered her into his arms, grateful that she had not struck her head. His sister moaned and rolled her head from side to side. Reason reasserted itself. She was not suffering from an awful disease but had crumbled under the weight of this sudden shock.
Elizabeth stroked Georgiana’s hand. “Oh, my poor girl. She was not prepared for such news. Perhaps I should have waited.”
“One can never be prepared for news of that nature.” Darcy was pleased his voice did not tremble too much. “Nor could you have concealed the truth for long.”
Elizabeth regarded Georgiana sadly. “I suppose not.” She gestured to the door of the townhouse. “Bring her inside. She must rest.”
As Darcy carried Georgiana through the door and into the drawing room, he realized dully that this house no longer belonged to Richard. It would now be the property of Richard’s younger brother, Thomas, whom Darcy knew only slightly.
Darcy laid Georgiana on a couch. His sister sighed and turned her head but did not seem truly awake. Elizabeth directed the servants to obtain water and blankets for Georgiana, appearing to be quite at home. Of course, she had spent a year preparing to become the mistress of this house.
Had Richard’s death occurred before or after the wedding? Darcy supposed it was of little import now, but a voice at the back of his mind would not let the matter rest.
As he watched her press handkerchiefs into Georgiana’s hand, Darcy realized that as much pain as he was experiencing, Elizabeth’s loss must have been even more wrenching. Darcy had lost a cousin, but she had lost the love of her life. And now she was lending comfort to Richard’s wayward relatives!
Elizabeth knelt by Georgiana and roused the other woman enough to drink some water. Georgiana would have stood, but Elizabeth encouraged her to lie down as she recovered from the shock.
“You seem to be managing very well,” Georgiana whispered hoarsely.
Elizabeth retreated to a chair near Georgiana’s couch. “I have had three weeks to accustom myself to the loss. At first, I confess I did not cope well at all.” She glanced down at her hands.
Darcy strode to the sideboard and poured himself a generous portion of brandy, not caring whose decanter it now was. Thus fortified, he seated himself and asked, “Will you tell us how this dreadful event came to pass?”
Elizabeth swallowed, still gazing at her hands twisted together in her lap. “Richard fell while he was riding—here in London. He was not even riding fast, but the horse shied and lost its footing. Richard fell onto a wrought iron fence and sustained an injury to his side. It was the day before we were to be wed.” Elizabeth’s voice was calm and level as she recited the events, but her hands twisted over and over, fingers tangled, while her eyes seemed to focus on nothing.
“At first, he seemed all right. The doctor said he detected no internal damage, and they stitched him up. But then—” She closed her eyes. “The wound became infected.” Darcy inhaled a harsh breath through his teeth. Georgiana might not understand what that meant, but he certainly did.
Elizabeth opened her eyes, staring at the floor. “They tried everything but could do nothing to help him.” Tears were now spilling freely down Elizabeth’s cheeks; she wiped them away with the back of her hand. “Richard was so strong. Up until the very last, he was joking and telling everyone we would be better off without him.” Elizabeth gave a watery smile and met Darcy’s eyes for the first time.
He attempted to return her smile. “That sounds like Richard.”
“Yes.” Elizabeth dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “He knew he was dying, but his only thoughts were about those he was leaving behind. He rewrote his will and spent hours telling Thomas about Hargrave Manor. He wrote you a letter, Mr. Darcy, a long one. I do not know what it contained, but I posted it to America.”
Darcy cursed the impulse that had brought him back to England both too soon and too late. “My uncle will forward our post.”
Elizabeth nodded. “He was so strong for so long and then—” A sob escaped her throat.
Darcy leaned forward and covered her hand with his. “You need not share every detail now.”
She met his gaze. “In the end, he did not feel much pain. The doctor gave him laudanum.”
He savored the warmth of her hand; it felt so right in his. Disgusted with himself, he pulled his hand away. The woman had just lost everything.
Georgiana was freely sobbing, having soaked the handkerchiefs Elizabeth had supplied. Darcy moved to sit beside her on the couch, wrapping his arm around her and murmuring words of comfort. His relationship with Elizabeth might be fraught, but at least he could provide help to his sister.
Elizabeth recovered her composure quickly. She rang for tea and served it, remembering how both guests preferred theirs prepared. Although her eyes were puffy and red, she concentrated her efforts on improving Georgiana’s spirits. Effortlessly, Elizabeth steered the conversation to happy memories and persuaded Georgiana to relate a story about Richard from her childhood. Darcy was full of admiration of Elizabeth’s skill at assuaging his sister’s grief.
Within an hour, Georgiana’s tears had ceased, but she was very sleepy.
“I should return her to Darcy House,” Darcy said, dreading the trip in a jolting carriage to a house ill-prepared for their arrival. The cook did not have sufficient food, and none of the maids had been summoned from Pemberley, so Georgiana would only have the assistance of the housekeeper.
“Would you like to remain here for the night?” Elizabeth asked softly, watching Georgiana drowse against the back of the couch. “We can send for some clothing for you and Georgiana.”
Darcy hesitated, uncertain how to respond. How did Elizabeth come to be acting as a hostess in a house that now bel
onged to Thomas Fitzwilliam? Was she no longer living with the Gardiners? Surely she was not authorized to issue invitations?
“Is—” Darcy cleared his throat. “Is Thomas here?”
Elizabeth knitted her brows in confusion. “No. He is at Hargrave.” Then her expression cleared. “Oh, I should explain. Richard wrote a will before he died. In it, he bequeathed this house and a sum of money to me.” She blinked rapidly to hold back tears. “He was so good to me. He said these were the terms written into our marriage contract. Of course, we were never married …” Her voice choked up, and she rubbed her hand over her mouth. “But he wanted me to have the house and some means of support.”
Richard had accomplished all this while he was in pain and sick with a fever. Elizabeth had been right to accept his offer of marriage. Here was proof yet again that his cousin was the far better man. “That was very good of him.” Elizabeth merely nodded, her lips pressed tightly together, holding in grief and pain. “But we should not impose on your privacy.”
“No, please!” Her plea seemed too spontaneous to be other than genuine. “I have been quite alone here since taking residence two weeks ago. Some company would be very welcome.” Her smile was merely the ghost of the arch smile he remembered so well. Darcy would, of course, agree to stay. He could deny her nothing, no matter the cost to him.
She made an attempt at her old teasing tone. “And if it is not too much trouble, I was hoping you might favor me with stories about the ‘savage’ lands of America.”
***
The following morning, Elizabeth awoke at her usual time and descended for breakfast. Living in this house without Richard still felt wrong in many subtle ways. With so many memories of visiting him here, she found it difficult to remember he would not simply walk through the door one day. For the most part, she found it comforting to be surrounded by such memories, but upon occasion, they grew to be too much, and she needed a brisk walk or visit to the Gardiners.
Pride and Proposals Page 6
