Darcy pondered this. “You would make a better husband for her than I, Richard,” he finally muttered through a clenched jaw.
Colonel Fitzwilliam stared at his cousin in disbelief. “You cannot be serious, Darcy. Please sit down. What troubles you? Something in Bingley’s letter? Or in Georgiana’s?”
“Elizabeth is making herself unwell. She is not eating. She is despairing, and I am to blame. From what she said when we parted, and from Bingley’s report, I believe she feels she has lost me. She does not trust my affection.”
“You make no sense. What has any of this to do with any short-lived inclination I might have had? As for not trusting your affection, you must strive to relieve her mind, and not just by securing Wickham for her sister without taking the credit of it. Have you any way to communicate with her?”
“Georgiana writes to her through Bingley.”
“There you are! When Georgie gets here, include a few lines in one of her letters. Whatever you think you need to be forgiven for, ask it of her. Consider her situation, Darcy. In spite of Jane and Bingley’s happy news, her family exists under a cloud of disgrace. She must have convinced herself you will not renew your addresses because of the association with Wickham. And why does she feel that way? It began before she ever met Wickham when you so carelessly and publicly insulted her at the Meryton assembly, for which you have never asked forgiveness, have you?”
Darcy shook his head as his cousin continued, “That rude beginning left the field ploughed for Wickham to sow his lies. He appeared amiable when you did not. You blame yourself for the current situation, and so you should, but not because you did not expose Wickham when you had the chance, rather because the person in the best position of influence in the neighbourhood — a lady known for her sensible opinions — was the person you thoughtlessly insulted at your first meeting. Darcy, this is all quite clear to Georgiana. Bingley explained his observations to her, and she to me. I have nothing to do with Elizabeth’s current sadness or future happiness. She can have no regrets of me. It is all down to you. Accept it. Correct it.”
Darcy was lost in reverie, and although he heard his cousin and agreed with him, he made no response for several minutes. At last he said, “Bingley wrote of something I had not even considered, which adds materially to Elizabeth’s already extensive virtues. She is the one of her family to undertake the visiting and administering of aid to the Longbourn tenants. It is a mere handful compared with the number at Pemberley, but Bingley and Jane say she enjoys the work.” Darcy slumped down into a chair. “Richard…cannot you imagine her, smiling and charmingly officious, winding her way around Pemberley’s farms in a curricle with children waving at her approach?” His strained voice lowered to a whisper. “Was ever a woman more perfect for me than Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam stood and patted his cousin’s shoulder as he left the room. “You know what you must do. Communicate with her however you can, as soon as may be, and get this mess with Wickham mopped up as quickly as possible. Goodnight, Darcy. Mind your hand; it will pain you in the morning.”
* * *
Thursday, 6 August, 1812
The next day’s business took up much of Darcy’s time. With his cousin, he obtained the documents for Wickham to resign his present commission. A commission in the regulars under a General Steveton was purchased in its stead. The general’s brigade was stationed in Newcastle. Darcy was pleased with the arrangement of Wickham’s immediate future.
When Darcy visited Wickham in the afternoon, Wickham would not come down until he was assured Colonel Fitzwilliam was not in attendance. Once calmed on this account, he attended Darcy in the sitting room used the day before but kept himself an arm’s length away throughout their interview. His face, Darcy was happy to see, was a wreck. Although the doctor had successfully realigned his jaw, the bruising was extensive. Wickham recounted the lies he told Lydia about how he came to appear so beaten, but to this, Darcy paid no heed. He was only quietly pleased that an exceedingly vain and immoral man with only his looks to recommend him would now be less appealing to the fair sex, and Lydia’s triumph in securing him must be much diminished.
After a few hours, all-important papers were signed for the army, a monetary agreement was reached — which amounted to less than Darcy had expected to spend — and Lydia was consulted about a date for a wedding to be held under special license to speed the arrangement of the ceremony. All was dependent upon the approval of Lydia’s family, and this, Darcy hoped to secure through Mr Gardiner the next day.
As Darcy left the inn, he was approached by two young toughs who made themselves known as respectfully as they were able. They introduced themselves as two of a band of watchers who had been recruited and paid their first wages by Colonel Fitzwilliam. Darcy said he was glad to know them and they would have three to four weeks employment. He asked them to consider moving north to Newcastle in the autumn to continue their task and to ask the same of their fellows.
Late that evening, another express arrived from Georgiana. She had a letter from Elizabeth, which she would bring with her to London. Georgiana said only that the tone of the letter seemed sad, but Elizabeth was comforted to have returned to her regular responsibilities at home. There was no good news at Longbourn concerning Lydia, and the family had just received word that, barring some swiftly proceeding development, Mr Bennet would return home the following Saturday morning. Mrs Gardiner would return to London that afternoon. Elizabeth did ask to be remembered to her brother, which Georgiana made much of to offer encouragement.
Darcy’s encouragement was slight, but he was happy to have word of Mr Bennet’s whereabouts and put off his visit to Mr Gardiner until Saturday. He sent word to Wickham and Lydia to expect a visit from himself and Mr Gardiner on Saturday afternoon. He mulled over how to explain Wickham’s altered looks to Mr Gardiner and decided, after the meeting of the parties, he would tell the truth of Wickham’s injuries to Elizabeth’s uncle.
* * *
Sunday, 9 August, 1812
The dinner with the Gardiners became tense when they realised, from the direction of his comments on the Wickham matter, that Mr Darcy intended his effort and expense on behalf of the couple to go unsung and without reimbursement. Mr Gardiner saw it as a presumption on their burgeoning friendship that he was forced to receive accolades due to Darcy’s action and could not accept that so much goodness should go misdirected and un-praised. Darcy was adamant, and after a tortured hour of talking at cross-purposes with nearly raised voices, Mrs Gardiner put a stop to it by laying a gentle hand on her husband’s knee and meeting his eye with a nod of her head.
She said, “Mr Darcy, I see your purpose has not changed from what you expressed as I left Pemberley. I had hoped you would change your mind. There is one person whom you would not wish to feel obliged to you. We shall keep your secret for her sake, but should she learn of it from some other source and ask me the particulars, she will be told everything. You would not wish to establish a more permanent arrangement with Elizabeth under a cloud of dissemblance, I think.”
Darcy started to argue, but Mrs Gardiner held up a staying hand. “Someday you shall know my niece as well as I do. She is the very definition of curiosity and is too inventive by half. If she does not know the facts, she will fill the vacancy with her own assumptions. It will be better, if she does learn of this, that she know all, and accurately.”
Mrs Gardiner rather liked the look of Darcy’s smile as he chuckled and said, “Yes, I am sure you are correct there.”
Mrs Gardiner looked directly into Darcy’s eyes. “You must not keep from Elizabeth the opportunity to be proud of you, sir. For that is what she will feel. She will be proud of you when she learns all you have done. Do not deny her that.”
When Darcy arrived home at nightfall, he found his sister and Mrs Annesley had arrived, and they were finishing a light meal. Georgiana showed him Elizabeth’s letters. They held no revelations, but he was comforted to see her han
dwriting again.
Garlic
“Courage”
Chapter 12
Secrets Revealed
Monday, 17 August, 1812
Georgiana Darcy’s seventeenth birthday dawned excessively warm. The morning post brought a letter from her cousin Anne and another from Lady Catherine. The former was full of warmth and good wishes, and Anne continued her praise of Georgiana for pushing Darcy toward Elizabeth.
Lady Catherine’s letter was as unkind and absurd as ever. Without having seen her niece in a year, Lady Catherine, in her infinite and benevolent condescension, decided Georgiana was not practicing enough at her music, and therefore, she had been surpassed by the non-musical Anne in both musicality and expression. She further instructed Georgiana to come out during the next season lest the difficult truth about an improper relationship the previous summer become generally known, and she must also encourage her brother to make a formal proposal of marriage to Anne.
Hence, Georgiana was vexed when she emerged from her room for a late breakfast. Darcy had been up several hours and joined her to take another cup of coffee as his sister ate her usual morning meal.
“Dear Goose, what has made you so unhappy on your birthday? You look exceedingly cross,” Darcy observed.
“I have had a lovely note from Anne and an annoying letter from Aunt Catherine. What a hoyden she is, Brother. I am more sorry for Anne with each passing year. But Anne does cheer me, and I ought to concentrate on what she said rather than being disturbed by her mother.”
“What does our cousin say?”
“She wishes me to keep pushing you at Elizabeth Bennet, if you must know.”
Darcy tried not to show his foreboding. It would be a fearsome thing if Lady Catherine learnt of his affection for anyone other than Anne, whatever Anne’s wishes might be. If letters should fall into Aunt Catherine’s hands or first drafts tossed carelessly aside, the whole country would hear of her displeasure. She was not a woman to be gainsaid.
Georgiana read her brother’s thoughts easily. “I do not mention your lady by name, Brother. It is not necessary. We have been at the topic long enough that our cousin understands of whom I write.”
Darcy smiled a little and produced an ornate brown bottle from his pocket, seeking to steer the subject away from Lady Catherine. “I have a gift for you, Georgie, which is utterly unique to you, and its existence will explain a mystery of which you have not lately spoken.” He laid the bottle on his arm imitating a sommelier in Paris presenting a fine vintage.
Georgiana read the label. “It is from Elizabeth?” she asked, recognising the writing.
“She made it for you at my request. That is why she was in the Pemberley stillroom. We had made the assignation the evening before, so this would be ready in time for your birthday. She makes perfume for all her family, including her own scent.”
“Which, I take it, is lavender?”
Darcy smiled. “It is.”
Georgiana read the label aloud. “Arabian Jasmine for Amiability, Damask Rose for Brilliancy of Complexion.” She looked at her brother. “Did you request this combination?”
“I left it entirely to Elizabeth.”
Georgiana pierced the wax over the stopper with a fingernail, opened the bottle and inhaled the scent. “I love it!” she said instantly.
Darcy leaned over to smell the stopper. “Very pretty!” he agreed. Darcy smiled at his sister, but in truth, he was smiling at a lady who was not in the room, or even in the city. He had hoped to arrange for the Gardiners to dine at Darcy House as a further surprise for Georgiana. However, because of the unruly and ungrateful niece currently burdening their household — who was noisily chafing at the restrictions placed upon her behaviour by her all-seeing and all-knowing aunt — the Gardiners felt they could not get away from home, much as they wished to.
After breakfast, Darcy and Georgiana spent an hour in the library, where Darcy presented her with a selection of novels and poetry. They were later joined by Colonel Fitzwilliam, who would stay for dinner. He had just settled himself to join them in reading when the butler entered, followed by a footman carrying a large, somewhat flat, wooden crate. The butler handed Georgiana a card.
“It is from Mrs Gardiner and Elizabeth! What can it be?”
Darcy took the small hammer from the footman and began prying the slats apart. He believed the portraits of Elizabeth on the banks of his fishing stream and at Arbor Low would be inside. His expectation was incomplete.
The pencil sketches of Elizabeth en plein air had been elegantly framed and hinged together so they might sit on a table. The three stood and admired them. “I had no idea Mrs Gardiner and Elizabeth intended these for me,” Georgiana said. She paused. “I thought them spoken for…” She looked at her brother.
“I knew they were for you, Georgie, but assumed they would be presented at Pemberley. I have been on my best behaviour that you would part with one for me, but they are hinged together. Mrs Gardiner is the very soul of propriety. I’m glad she and the subject sent them here, even if they could not enjoy the fulfilment of seeing you open their gift.”
“But there is another picture in the crate,” their cousin observed.
Darcy was surprised but then remembered Mrs Gardiner had planned a triptych. He assumed, events unfolding as they had, that Elizabeth’s aunt had not the time to complete the third image. He lifted a larger picture from the box, wrapped in a layer of chamois cloth. It was facing his sister and the colonel when he pulled the covering away. They both looked startled and then smiled. A note in Mrs Gardiner’s hand fluttered to the floor. Georgiana picked it up as Darcy leaned the picture in a chair and stepped around to see the image.
Clearly the ambition of the composition was more complicated than Mrs Gardiner’s gifted but amateur talent could capture fully, but Elizabeth’s face was luminously rendered, and it was clear enough she was looking at Darcy’s portrait at Pemberley, mainly because Mrs Gardiner included just the first few letters of the name plate on the frame: “Fitzw…”
Darcy could not breathe. Although Elizabeth was in profile, even he understood the expression in her eye and the set of her mouth, as if caught on the very point of smiling. “Are those red chrysanthemums in her hands, Georgie?” he whispered.
“I believe they are,” Georgiana replied and grasped her brother’s arm as if he needed steadying.
“Read the note, gosling,” urged their cousin.
Georgiana huffed. “Really, Cousin, you must try to keep up with the times. My brother has decided I am adult now and pronounced me a goose full grown before he left Pemberley. Make a note of it, I pray you.” She opened the paper and read aloud:
“From Mrs Madeleine Gardiner
“Gracechurch Street, London
“17 August, 1812
“Dear Miss Darcy,
“Perhaps this painting has asked more of me than my poor talents can master, but my intent was to capture our dear Elizabeth at the moment we saw her fall in love with your brother.”
Darcy looked down, blushing, at the floor.
“Her uncle, Mrs Reynolds and I were the only witnesses, and having seen this picture in various stages of completion, those two will vouch for the accuracy of the fondness of her gaze, and the look of realization that overspread her then. We can thank Mrs Reynolds for supplying the flowers at Lizzy’s particular request.”
At this, Darcy stepped in front of his sister and cousin to look at the painting more particularly. His eyes were burning, and he feared he might cry, so he squinted.
“It is my fond wish, dear Georgiana, that someday soon I will have the opportunity to make more of that day known to you — the day my niece first came to Pemberley. What you see here is my testimonial that she was in love with your brother even before she met him by chance outside the house. I am not the romantic many women are, but I believe, in some way, her heart called to Mr Darcy that day.
“Please accept my very best wishes for your birthday and tho
se of my niece as well,
“M. Gardiner”
It was Georgiana who cried, and handkerchiefs from both men in the room were proffered for her use.
Darcy avoided tears but was grinning stupidly. His cousin could not resist tweaking him. “I say, Darcy, I have never seen you look more like Charles Bingley. Are you as besotted as you look?”
Darcy could not be perturbed and nodded. “This waiting for Wickham’s wedding grows more tedious by the minute. How gratified he would be to know I am tortured by impatience. I shall be fifty times as happy on the day I wed as he shall ever be on his, and I want my happiness to start right this minute.”
Fitzwilliam murmured, “I am sure I should feel the same if so beautiful and fine a woman ever once looked at me that way.”
Darcy turned to meet his cousin’s eyes. “You did love her?”
“No, Darcy, truly, I did not. When I saw how you looked at her in the Hunsford parsonage, I knew she stirred you, even if she did not. I would have asked your feelings were mine growing serious, although you might have tried to prevaricate. And you did put me off with the reminder of my being a second son. I guessed what you were about, you know.
“Did you ever write her that apology I suggested? Have you written to her at all?”
Georgiana asked, “What apology?”
“After our first finding Wickham and Lydia, Darcy had a letter from Bingley full of worry. He thought Elizabeth pining for the loss of this great lout here. I told him he still needed to apologise for his misstep on the night he met her, that he had thus set this calamity in motion.”
The Red Chrysanthemum Page 21
