by Brigid Huey
***
Elizabeth looked down in confusion. What could he mean by such a statement? How could he possibly wish to see her after Hunsford? She simply could not make him out. She was thankful when her uncle chose that moment to announce their departure.
“I am sure Lizzy is fatigued,” Mr. Gardiner said. “Mr. Darcy, you have our thanks.”
Mr. Darcy demurred once again and asked a footman to make ready his carriage to transport them all back to the inn. As he escorted them out, Elizabeth found herself beside him.
“Miss Bennet,” he began, his manner somewhat awkward, “I wonder if I might…that is…” He stopped walking and turned to her. She glanced at her aunt and uncle, but they had walked on ahead.
“My sister will arrive tomorrow with Mr. Bingley and his sisters.”
Elizabeth flushed at the mention of Mr. Bingley. The reminder of what Jane and he had lost was still acutely painful. Whether Mr. Darcy was aware of this, she could not tell. At length, he continued.
“Georgiana particularly wishes to know you. May I introduce her to you during your stay at Lambton?”
It seemed to Elizabeth that this must be a day of constant surprise. He wished to introduce her to his sister? She was not unconscious of the earnest look in his eyes. Elizabeth now found that, as angry as she might still be, she had no desire to be uncivil toward him. It was strange, but his vulnerability tugged at her heart, and she had a sudden desire to put him at ease.
“Certainly, sir. I would be delighted to meet Miss Darcy,” she replied.
A smile lit his features briefly as he thanked her, leading her again toward the door and the carriage without that would take them back to the inn.
Elizabeth wanted nothing more than a quiet room and a warm bed. She would receive both in due course, but the ability to quiet her mind was another matter entirely.
***
Darcy watched the carriage ride toward the village until it was out of sight. When he had set out for Pemberley that morning, he had thought only of meeting with his steward—with the added benefit of a respite from Miss Bingley’s attentions. Had he but known what the day would bring!
Seeing Elizabeth again only confirmed that which he had been trying to deny these many months. He loved her still. What a tangle he had made of things! He thought again of his demeanor before Elizabeth had shed light into his soul with her sharp refusal. How had he allowed himself to grow so unfeeling? Thinking of his words at the parsonage made him shudder.
He had been truthful, yes, but to a fault. He had been utterly blind to her feelings, and his insistence on complete honesty had only caused her pain. Well, no more. He would demonstrate his change of heart at every possible turn. The events of the day had clearly shaken Elizabeth, and he resolved to put her at ease in any way he could.
Making his way inside, he went directly to the nursery. There he found Mrs. Reynolds instructing one of the housemaids regarding the baby’s care.
“Mrs. Reynolds, how is the child?”
“She is doing quite well, sir, considering her ordeal. She needs an experienced nurse, but I am unsure whether I can fill the position immediately.”
“I understand. What of her family, Mrs. Reynolds? Have there been any babies born in the village of late?”
“Not that I am aware of, sir. What her name may be, I have no idea.”
Darcy looked at the child, sleeping now in the crib he himself had used. It was a testament to the skill of his staff that they had settled the babe so quickly and efficiently. “Daisy. We shall call her Daisy for the time being.”
“A lovely name, sir,” Mrs. Reynolds replied with a smile.
“Thank you for your diligent care, Mrs. Reynolds,” he said. “Daisy’s arrival will no doubt add a bit of excitement once our guests arrive.”
“Miss Darcy will be pleased, I believe.”
“You have the right of it, as always, Mrs. Reynolds.”
He peered at the baby, wrapped in clean blankets and resting peacefully. She had a sweet little face with light fuzz upon her head. She was so small, still a newborn. How would they feed and care for her?
“Dr. Smith declared her healthy,” Mrs. Reynolds supplied. “He estimates her age to be four weeks.”
“Indeed?” Darcy asked.
“Yes, sir. Dr. Smith advised the cook on preparing a special formula of milk to feed the child—Daisy, I should say.”
“Good,” Darcy said, relieved that someone had thought of this.
“She seems not to care for it, but there is nothing else to be done. She must eat, and she is far too young for solid food.”
Darcy looked at Mrs. Reynolds. She was absolutely confident in her knowledge, though as a childless woman, Darcy had no inkling of where she had gleaned this wisdom. However, knowing nothing of such matters himself, he deferred to her better judgment and Dr. Smith’s experience.
Darcy thanked the housekeeper absently, his thoughts a swirl of ruminations. Who was the child? Where the devil was her family? And how was he to handle a situation perilously close to scandal with Miss Bingley at Pemberley? Finally, he left the nursery and took himself off to his study. There was much to be done.
Chapter Three
Darcy had spent the morning closeted with his steward. They had set in motion a plan to locate Daisy’s family without notifying the magistrate at present. If the mother could be found, there may be no need to involve the authorities. A select number of trusted servants who lived in Lambton were tasked with discreetly gathering information.
Someone must have been seen with Daisy. What he could not fathom was why anyone would wish to abandon a child in such a way. It was not unheard of for a baby to be left with the parson, but to desert a newborn in the wilds of Pemberley Woods was unconscionable. He thought of Elizabeth; she had taught him to try to understand the feelings of others. He wondered what she made of the situation. Whoever left Daisy in the woods must have been desperate, indeed.
A noise from the open window brought Darcy out of his contemplations. The carriage had arrived, bringing his sister home. He rose immediately, eager to greet his guests. With any luck, he could have the Bingley sisters and Mr. Hurst quickly escorted to their rooms; he was desperate for a moment alone with Georgiana.
He met the party in the front hall. Georgiana looked rather weary, he thought—no doubt from suffering an entire day under the constant attentions of Miss Bingley.
“Ah, Mr. Darcy!” the lady in question said at once. “We have had such a journey! How wonderful to be here at last.”
“Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, Mr. Hurst, welcome to Pemberley. And Bingley, you are very welcome too.”
Before anyone could reply, Miss Bingley spoke again. “We are in great need of refreshment, are we not, Georgiana?”
“Allow me to have you shown to your rooms. I shall have Mrs. Reynolds send up tea as well.”
As if by magic, Mrs. Reynolds herself appeared. She graciously guided the sisters and Mr. Hurst toward the staircase, listening intently to Miss Bingley’s long list of requests.
“Am I in the Blue Room as usual?” Bingley asked.
Darcy’s thoughts strayed again to Elizabeth, who only yesterday had occupied the very same room, however briefly.
“The Blue Room as usual, Bingley,” he said. As his friend bowed to Georgiana and made his way toward the stairs, Darcy’s sister linked arms with him.
“Are you feeling more yourself today, Fitzwilliam?”
“I am, indeed, Georgiana. And I am grateful to you for suggesting I ride ahead, for more reasons than you could suppose.”
They had reached the top of the grand staircase, but instead of turning left toward Georgiana’s rooms, Darcy paused.
“Come, my dear, there is someone you must meet and a story you must hear.”
On the way to the nursery, Darcy related his tale. He spoke of his encounter with Miss Bennet and of the recommendations of Dr. Smith. Georgiana seemed absolutely dumbfounded. Nothing of this sort had
ever happened at Pemberley.
They met an exhausted-looking housemaid in the nursery. Her name was Clarabelle, and she was pacing the length of the room with the little baby. She looked up as they entered and bobbed a respectful acknowledgment. “If you please, sir, ma’am,” she whispered, “the babe has only just fallen asleep.”
To his surprise, Georgiana nodded at once as if she had some inner knowledge of what this statement could mean. Putting a hand on his arm to keep him still, she walked quietly forward. Clarabelle had not stopped walking, but she paused for the briefest moment as she passed his sister. He watched as Georgiana peered into the blankets in Clarabelle’s arms, looking at the baby’s sweet face. Her hand flew to her heart. Clarabelle resumed her walking, and Georgiana returned to his side.
“She is precious, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered. “And you say Miss Bennet found her alone in our woods? What of the mother? Has she been found?”
“Come,” he said, “let us leave Clarabelle to her work, and I shall relate all I know.”
Darcy told Georgiana what he knew, which was not much. No information had come back from the village. As he walked her to her rooms, she asked question after question for which he had no answer.
“I am sorry to burden you in this way, Georgiana, but it is our responsibility to care for the baby until her family is found.”
“Of course it is!” Georgiana said at once. “But, Fitzwilliam, what shall we call her? We cannot keep calling her ‘the baby.’”
They had reached her rooms at last, and he paused in the doorway.
“Miss Bennet has named her Daisy for the time being, and I think that will suffice.”
He was aware that his tone had become rather stiff, and Georgiana arched an eyebrow at him, so very like Elizabeth that he smiled at the remembrance.
“I think I should like to meet this Miss Bennet,” his sister said, and the casual note in her voice caught him off guard. He had considered telling Georgiana of his hopes but, after his disastrous proposal, had decided to keep his feelings to himself. Her request, however, he was eager to oblige.
“I am happy to hear you say that, Georgie, for she is staying at the inn in Lambton, and I was very much hoping to impose upon your patience yet again this morning. Shall we ride to pay her a call?”
Georgiana gave a look of surprise, but to his relief, she asked no more questions. She readily consented.
“Give me a few moments to refresh myself, Brother, and we shall call on Miss Bennet.”
“Thank you, Georgiana. I should like to make the call ourselves, if we may.”
She nodded her complete understanding, and he left her to see to the horses.
As soon as she was ready, Georgiana joined him in the front hall, and Darcy was grateful she had not lingered overlong in readying herself to pay this social call. Bingley met them in the hall and was delighted to learn of their destination. The three of them successfully left Pemberley for Lambton before the Bingley sisters had come down to luncheon.
As they entered the inn a short while later, Bingley said, “I mean to stay below, Darcy, until you summon me. I have no wish to disturb Miss Bennet by arriving unannounced.”
Darcy enquired of the innkeeper where the Gardiners were to be found, and he and Georgiana were led to a pleasant sitting room upstairs, where they found Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner deep in conversation. Mr. Gardiner read the newspaper near the window.
They rose as his party entered, and Darcy’s eyes found Elizabeth. She was as stunning as ever. Her dark curls were piled delicately atop her head, with a few pieces framing her delightful face. Her eyes met his for the briefest moment as she acknowledged his greeting. They were beautiful but troubled. The knowledge that she was still uncomfortable in his presence distressed him.
Schooling his features to mask his concern at her reception, he presented his sister first to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and then to Elizabeth.
“I am pleased to meet you at last, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said. “Your brother speaks of you often.”
”Thank you, Miss Bennet. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Georgiana replied softly.
“Mr. Bingley and his sisters arrived this morning,” Darcy said, distinctly uncomfortable now as Elizabeth eyed him with scrutiny. “When I told him we were to call, he was most eager to greet you.”
Elizabeth made no reply, and Darcy resisted the urge to pull at his cravat. The Gardiners smiled kindly though he thought he detected some awareness on the part of Mrs. Gardiner at the mention of Bingley’s name.
“He is waiting below. May I fetch him?”
“Yes, of course!” Elizabeth said, her features once again relaxing into the easy manner Darcy loved so well. He excused himself and retrieved Bingley.
“Miss Bennet!” Bingley cried as he entered the room a moment later “I was so pleased to hear that you were in Lambton. I trust you have been enjoying your trip thus far?”
Bingley was all eager smiles and politeness. He and Elizabeth fell into easy conversation, and for not the first time Darcy envied his friend’s pleasing manners.
He was gratified, however, that Elizabeth seemed determined to include Georgiana in the conversation despite his sister’s shy demeanor. He had not had time to inform Bingley of Daisy’s presence in the house, and Georgiana wisely did not bring her up, though he had no doubt that she very much wanted to.
Darcy took the opportunity to approach Mr. Gardiner, who was sitting beside his wife enjoying his tea.
“Mr. Gardiner,” Darcy said quietly, “might I share my progress regarding the child?”
“Certainly, sir,” came the reply, and the two gentlemen spent the next few minutes discussing Darcy’s search for Daisy’s family. Though fruitless heretofore, Darcy remained optimistic that information could be found if the right sources were used. It had only been a day since Elizabeth had found Daisy in the woods.
He could not prevent himself from frequently glancing in Elizabeth’s direction. She was speaking with Bingley in her usual open and artless way, yet he thought he detected a certain stiffness in her manner. It was no doubt his own presence that caused her to be uncomfortable—especially with Bingley accompanying him. He well understood how angry she still must be regarding Bingley and Miss Jane Bennet.
It was time, long past time, to tell Bingley the truth. He had tended to all Elizabeth’s reproofs save this one. With sudden clarity, Darcy realized that it was fear that had kept him silent for so long—fear that Jane Bennet had moved on, fear of Bingley’s righteous anger, and most of all, the fear of losing his dearest friend.
Resolved to right this wrong as soon as possible, he stood, causing his sister to stand also.
“Forgive me, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet, but there is something of importance I must attend to.”
Bingley raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“It was a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said warmly.
“Thank you,” Georgiana said. “And I was happy to meet you.”
“Let us all meet again very soon,” Darcy said with one last glance at Elizabeth. She met his gaze with a question in her eyes. He was glad of it. Curiosity was much more agreeable than dislike.
***
The ride home to Pemberley was blessedly short. Now that Darcy had resolved to right the wrongs he had inflicted upon his friend, he was determined to do so immediately.
Georgiana excused herself as soon as they returned, retreating into her music room. A wave of nerves shook Darcy as he watched her walk away. He turned to his friend.
“Bingley, would you join me in the library if you are at leisure?”
“Of course!” came Bingley’s genial reply. They began the walk toward the corridor that led to the library. “Though I thought you had business to attend to.”
“I do,” Darcy replied. “I must speak with you about an important and delicate matter.” He closed the library door behind Bingley, who looked concerned.
Darcy did not reply at once but walked instead to the large fireplace. He leaned against the mantel while Bingley took a seat in one of the leather chairs.
“Is anything amiss, my friend?” Bingley asked in a tone much quieter than was his wont.
“I am afraid I have a confession to make. I have wronged you, Bingley, most seriously. I can offer no justification for my actions; they were based on a failure of character.”
“Darcy! A failure of character? What is this about, man?”
Darcy turned from the fire to look Bingley in the eye. “When you came away from Netherfield last winter, I convinced you that Miss Bennet did not truly care for you.”
At the mention of Jane Bennet, Bingley’s face paled. Darcy pressed on though the weight on his chest seemed intolerable.
“Miss Bennet visited her aunt and uncle in London that winter. She called on your sisters. I knew it and said nothing.”
At this, Bingley rose.
“She was in London and called on Caroline and Louisa? You all concealed it from me?”
Darcy flinched. Bingley’s words were spoken softly, but the incredulous look upon his face cut Darcy like a knife.
“Yes. I felt I was protecting you. I see now, however, that it was an arrogant presumption. It was very wrong of me, and I apologize.”
“Deception is unlike you, Darcy,” Bingley said flatly. “You should not have meddled in my affairs.”
His voice was more serious than Darcy had ever heard it.
“You are completely correct. I had no right to interfere. I hope very much that you can, in time, forgive me for this transgression.”
Bingley scrutinized him for a moment then smiled slightly.
“It was badly done, Darcy, but you are forgiven. Think on it no more.”
He extended his hand, which Darcy grasped, feeling lighter than he had in months.
“Thank you, Bingley. I value your friendship above all others and would have been ashamed to lose it under such circumstances.”
