by Wendi Sotis
Jane embraced both Elizabeth and Georgiana before leaving with Mr. Bennet.
Darcy excused himself to arrange for Marie and Mrs. Younge to move back into the sitting room.
Once they had returned to Georgiana’s bedchamber and settled into the chairs by the fire, Georgiana said, “I appreciate that you did not identify me as the foolish girl who came close to eloping with Mr. Wickham. If you feel you must reveal the entire truth to your father in the future, you have my permission to do so. You have done so much for me, Lizzy. Thank you.”
“I could not stand by and do nothing whilst I knew you would be harmed, Georgie. The bruises on my arms will fade, but the kind of injuries that were planned against you would never have healed.”
Darcy’s voice rang out from the door, startling the ladies, who had not heard his return. “The gypsies wisely chose the recipient of this gift.”
Elizabeth was stunned by the emotion in his voice. “I thank you for the compliment, sir.”
“Your father will soon join us. I will see you in the morning, Miss Elizabeth.” He took her hand in his and bowed over it. Almost as an afterthought, he brushed a kiss across her knuckles, then stood and looked deeply into her eyes. A knock at the door broke the spell.
~%~
Although it was in his nature to take charge, when Mr. Bennet returned, Darcy did not wish to seem as if either he or Mr. Bennet held a greater voice of authority in this situation, so Darcy forced himself to sit in front of the desk in Bingley’s study.
Mr. Bennet sat down heavily on the chair across from him and rubbed his temples. “I cannot remember ever being this tired.”
“It has been a trying day. Would you like a brandy, Mr. Bennet?” Darcy asked.
“Yes, please.” As Darcy handed him his glass, Mr. Bennet gestured to the bruises and cuts on Darcy’s hands and said, “You have not come away unscathed.”
Without realizing he did it, Darcy rubbed his jaw. “It is nothing compared to what Miss Elizabeth has suffered.” He hesitated before asking, “Was she...” he searched for the correct word, “well when you left her?”
“She is strong and will recover. My Lizzy is unlike any woman you have known, Mr. Darcy.”
Whilst he did not wish to venture further into that territory this evening, Darcy replied in a tone that he hoped implied his full meaning, “I have known for some time that Miss Elizabeth is very special, extraordinarily so.”
Mr. Bennet held his gaze. “I thought you had recognized her unique qualities.” It was several moments before he blinked and took a sip of brandy. “Now then, how much will this venture cost?”
Darcy’s eyebrows rose high upon his forehead. “I will accept full financial responsibility for sending the pair to Australia, sir. Miss Elizabeth would never have been involved in such a circumstance if not for my family. Wickham’s grudge is mainly against me, personally, and Younge was under my employ. I will brook no opposition on this point, Mr. Bennet.”
Mr. Bennet sighed. “I can see your conviction, Mr. Darcy.” He extended his hand, and Darcy shook it. “Please, call me Bennet or Thomas. If we are to be involved in this kind of business, I think we have earned the right to be less formal.”
“I will if you will call me Darcy, Mr. Bennet.”
Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows.
Darcy chuckled. “I meant, Bennet.”
Mr. Bennet raised his glass in a toast before taking a drink.
Chapter 23
November 27, 1811 ~ Longbourn
Elizabeth had never been as thoroughly exhausted as she was at that moment. Her injuries made finding a comfortable position almost impossible. Whenever she had fallen asleep, memories of the evening’s events invaded her slumber, and she would reawaken with a start. All attempts to govern her thoughts failed—soothing images evaporated the moment she dozed off, being replaced by those more alarming in nature. Resolved to distract herself by doing something useful, she rose from bed.
With Georgiana’s shawl wrapped snuggly about her shoulders, she crossed the room and lit a candle. The ache in Elizabeth’s cheek had increased throughout the night, and as she did not feel up to seeing her reflection at this time, she avoided looking into the mirror as she sat before her dressing table. Removing a book off her shelf, Elizabeth retrieved the hidden key and unlocked a drawer. Sorting through the gypsy’s sketches, she decided that, except for the picture of Georgiana and her brother upon their arrival at Ramsgate, any pages depicting Darcy would remain safely hidden in her vanity’s drawer.
The drawing of Darcy and her in the rose garden at Pemberley caught her eye, and she stopped to examine it more closely. Wistfully, she traced the line of his chin.
I have worked hard to prevent my expectations from rising, but it was for nothing. I continue to hope that these scenes will come to pass. She closed her eyes, forcing a tear to spill down her bruised cheek. No matter what might have been possible before it began in earnest, the workings of the blessing itself has only ensured that these events can never happen.
~%~
Standing on the steps of Netherfield, Darcy watched the first rays of dawn touch the sky as he stifled a yawn. He had managed to get very little sleep on Georgiana’s couch, but it would have to do—it would be a very long day.
Because Darcy was aware of Bingley’s habit to sleep very late on the day following a ball, as the last guests’ carriage left the grounds the night before, Darcy had requested an immediate audience with his friend. Once Darcy had summarized what had passed during the ball, the two discussed what was to be done with Wickham and Younge.
A pang of guilt struck him any time he thought of what Bingley would have to endure because of his sisters’ disappointment at their guests leaving so soon. He pushed the thought aside—he had enough worries without adding another.
Based on Elizabeth’s advice, Darcy had arranged for Hanna to assist Georgiana in preparing to leave. Hanna and Agnes would pack her trunks and send them to Longbourn later in the day.
Hearing the click of the front door, Darcy turned to escort Georgiana to their carriage, and then they set off. The first mile was passed in relative silence, though Georgiana fidgeted more than usual. His sister was nervous, he knew, but he also expected that as soon as she saw Jane or Elizabeth, she would feel better.
Darcy shook his head. Other than his sister’s remaining at Netherfield—an option with which neither felt comfortable—Darcy could think of no other alternative. “I am sorry, Georgiana, that I cannot find a better place for you to stay. Our aunt and uncle remain at Matlock, and I cannot count on Richard’s being available to spend much time with you. I do not feel comfortable leaving you at Matlock House alone. Truly, it matters not where they are, for I certainly could not take you with me on the journey to London this time.”
“Oh, no, please do not feel anxious about my staying at Longbourn.” Georgiana smiled brightly. “Jane and Lizzy say that all the girls share a maid, so they help each other their hair and dressing, and many nights they stay up late talking in Lizzy’s room. I look forward to this opportunity!”
Darcy stifled a chuckle, wondering if reality would live up to her expectations. As the coach pulled into Longbourn’s drive, Darcy watched his sister’s face. With the possibility of Wickham’s being in the area, Elizabeth and Jane had agreed to visit with Georgiana only at Netherfield, so this was the first time she had seen the Bennets’ home, and she was used to only the very finest lodgings. He felt relieved that she did not seem disappointed.
The housekeeper granted entrance immediately, and Jane welcomed the Darcys.
As Mrs. Hill helped Georgiana out of her pelisse and bonnet, Jane spoke quietly to Darcy, “Elizabeth asked that I greet Georgiana... to warn her... she thought it better if your sister should have advance notice of her appearance before seeing her.” Jane unconsciously touched her cheek near her eye. “I thought you should know, as well.”
Darcy’s visage hardened. “Her face has bruised?”
&n
bsp; Blinking back tears, Jane nodded. “My mother’s powder did very little to conceal it.”
“Thank you for the word of caution, Miss Bennet. My sister and I would not wish to cause more discomfort by displaying our surprise.”
When Georgiana joined them, Jane showed Darcy to the study door. Darcy waited to knock until the ladies disappeared down the hall towards the breakfast room. Upon hearing Mr. Bennet bid him enter, Darcy steeled himself for what lay ahead.
Whether Mr. Bennet took a hint from Darcy’s behaviour last night or whether he sat on the guest’s side of the desk, which now had three chairs before it, to make viewing the drawings easier for everyone concerned, Darcy appreciated the gesture. Mr. Bennet rose to greet him. Darcy glanced at the master of Longbourn as he shook his hand, but otherwise, his gaze remained attached to the rigid figure of Elizabeth, who did not immediately turn from the window.
~
Elizabeth closed her eyes and listened to the gentlemen exchange greetings behind her. She took a number of deep breaths in an attempt to calm her racing heartbeat. Georgiana’s seeing her in this state was one thing, but her brother was quite another. She had toyed with showing the drawings to her father and allowing him to go through them with Darcy, but she was certain there would be questions that only she could answer. No, there was nothing else to be done.
That is quite enough delaying! Better to be done with it.
Although she directed her gaze at the floor as she wished Darcy a good morning, her attention was on the way his posture stiffened significantly at seeing her. She approached the centre chair and sat down. Each gentleman took up a post on either side of her. Her hands trembled as she turned over the page on top of the stack of drawings, so it was now facing upward.
“Ah!” Mr. Bennet exclaimed at the sight of the first drawing. “This sketch is how you knew so quickly where grew the plants Mr. Jones required as an antidote to Miss Lucas’s poisoning!”
“Yes,” Elizabeth answered hoarsely and cleared her throat. “This drawing had come to me before Charlotte had arrived home. I remembered seeing the plant but could not recall exactly where. As I had not known that this herb would be useful in any way, it was only for the sake of curiosity that, after receiving this, I went for a walk with the specific intention of finding it. Later that day, when Mr. Jones brought the identical page from a book, I was fully prepared to take him to where it grew aplenty.” She looked up at her father. “The gypsies saved quite a few lives, it seems.”
“You do not give yourself any share of the credit?” Darcy asked.
Continuing to avoid meeting his gaze, Elizabeth looked at the sketch as she responded. “I might not have even remembered seeing this plant when hearing the news that my friend was so ill. The picture prepared me.”
Mr. Bennet began to laugh heartily and held up the drawing of his wife sitting in a mud puddle. “Oh, Lizzy, this is priceless! I wish you had shown this to me before you left for Ramsgate. Having this picture readily available would have made my time during your absence pass more easily. I suffered through weeks without hearing two words of sense spoken together at home.”
“Papa! I must say that I feel very guilty about this one. I had received it when I was still unsure as to the purpose of these drawings, and I had not noticed the broken wheel when I first looked upon it, so I did nothing to prevent this from happening.”
“Although your mother’s pride was bruised, no one was truly injured, my dear.”
“I do not know why they sent this one, unless, perhaps...” her voice trailed off. “It has occurred to me that the first few were meant only to prove that, if I did nothing, the events these drawings portrayed would come true.”
“That is possible,” Darcy commented and picked up the next. “Is this the one in which your gown changed?”
“Yes, it is.” She looked down at her gown and laughed. “As a matter of fact, in the original, I was wearing the very gown I am wearing now! It was received soon after I had told Jane about the drawings. I felt strongly that it would be at Ramsgate but did not know when it would be, and then Jane received the letter from my Aunt Gardiner.” She took up another sketch. “The next is where we met. In fact, before this happened, we had been at Ramsgate for two weeks, and I had given up on the thought that it would come true. It was quite a shock when I looked up to see you had been the one I had run into that day.”
Darcy turned to the next page. “Younge and Wickham!”
“Now it all seems so obvious, but back then we did not know what to think. We had seen Mrs. Younge in the background of the previous drawing, but we had no idea who the man was. When we did meet him, it was at the house you rented at Ramsgate, and he was with Georgiana and Mrs. Younge. Later, we thought he had been courting Mrs. Younge, leaving her heartbroken when he proposed to Georgiana. Although I knew something was wrong with that assumption, I am ashamed to say that it never occurred to me that she might be responsible for all of this.” Before turning over to the next, thinking of her previous reluctance, she looked up at Darcy. “Sir, I must ask you to prepare yourself for the next few sketches. They are the reason we became insistent that Georgiana give him up. Are you certain you wish to see them all?”
Darcy nodded, and Elizabeth turned over the page.
Darcy’s expression became even more grave and his breathing uneven, as he looked at the next two: Georgiana walking with Wickham, and then the pair at Gretna Green. Elizabeth quickly moved on to the next, which showed the duel between Darcy and Wickham, and another where Wickham was dead.
Elizabeth pointed to the duel. “When I saw Colonel Fitzwilliam’s miniature in Georgiana’s sitting room, I recognized him as your second at the duel.”
Darcy cleared the emotion from his throat. “I remember wondering why you were looking at that particular likeness longer than the others.”
She blushed and covered it with the next: Darcy and Wickham fighting. “This came just before we talked Georgiana into rethinking her plan.” She shook her head. “Perhaps something we did—even simply our determination in preventing the previous drawings from happening—changed how events would unfold, and that is why this one came later. I think this would have happened the night you returned to Ramsgate, Mr. Darcy—at the very moment you walked into the music room. As you can see, they do not arrive in order.”
Mr. Bennet interrupted. “How do you know when this would have taken place, my dear?”
“I feel quite dizzy whenever a moment arrives that was pictured in a drawing, even if that specific event has been avoided.”
“Your headaches!” Mr. Bennet exclaimed.
“Yes. With the first few drawings, I would have a terrible headache after the dizziness subsided, but that does not happen any longer.” She chuckled. “One can become accustomed to almost anything.”
Elizabeth had purposely skipped a few. He had been present, and those she had already shown him were upsetting enough.
She placed another drawing on the desk, depicting Bingley and Darcy at the Assembly, with Jane looking at Bingley in a way that showed her admiration of him. “This arrived after we had returned to Longbourn. Jane and I already knew that we would see you again, Mr. Darcy, though we were both surprised that it would be in Hertfordshire.”
Darcy had never seen Jane looking at Bingley with such feeling. This drawing removed any reservations he had entertained over what Bingley had revealed to him the previous night after the ball. Recalling what Elizabeth had just said, he asked, “What do you mean that you already knew we would meet again?”
Elizabeth blushed deeply and ignored the question, moving on to the next two pictures: Wickham speaking to her family at Meryton.
“Did these come when you were staying at Netherfield?” Darcy asked.
“Very good, Mr. Darcy, I did receive some sketches whilst at Netherfield, but these were not among them.” She did not wish to speak of their argument in front of her father. “Actually, I received these two whilst you were making a ca
ll at Longbourn, and I spoke to you about this one at Lucas Lodge. It is how I knew Wickham was coming to town and why I warned you when you told me Georgiana would soon be arriving. At the time I received this, I did not yet know who Mr. Collins was.”
“We were then living in fortunate times, Lizzy. I could have gone my whole life quite happily without ever meeting Mr. Collins,” Mr. Bennet said just loudly enough for his companions to hear, in case the man was lurking about. Mr. Bennet held up the one where Wickham was leering at Lydia. “And this is why you had your uncle write to me?”
“But why did you not tell me about the drawings when I asked how you knew he would come?” Darcy asked, feeling rather guilty for the accusation he had levied against her.
She did not lift her head from looking at the drawing, but answered softly, “For the same reason I never told my father about them. I was afraid of being labeled a madwoman. Jane and I agreed that we should not tell another soul. I did not wish to end up in Bedlam for insisting that drawings I had received from an unknown source were coming true.” In an attempt to change the subject slightly, Elizabeth said, “I must tell you that there are several pictures I will not show either of you as they are private moments.”
“Between whom?” her father asked with a mixture of curiosity, worry, and amusement.
“I beg not to disclose that, either. I must leave some future events as surprises to somebody, Papa. There are some that I have not even shared with Jane.”
Darcy turned to the next page and paled.
“Oh! I meant to leave this one in my rooms.” Elizabeth reached for the page, but Mr. Bennet picked it up before she could take it away.
Mr. Bennet chuckled. “So this is why you asked if I could speak to your mother and Mr. Collins?”
“Yes, Papa. What did you say to him to cause his sudden disinterest and prevent this, sir?”
“Although I am certain that you would find much merriment in the retelling of that story, I shall keep it to myself—for now.”
