“Have a seat, my child. I think we need to have a talk before my caller arrives.”
She saw the look of disapproval he gave and knew just what was to come from him. It was not often she had been in such a position, but she remembered well the day she last saw that look upon his face. She had gotten into a row with her friend, Miss Long, right in the street over a ribbon they both wanted, and just like any eight year olds, they were each willing to pull it away from the other with much force. Thinking back on the incident, it was quite comical. Her mother and aunt were both left with mud covering at least six inches of their petticoats and it was that day that she and Charlotte became the best of friends when Charlotte rescued her from the muddy clutches of her adversary, caring not for the disarray it would cause to her own dress with such a daring rescue.
This was not the time for her mind to wander about on things from the past. She had a feeling her father would not be as lenient on her today as he had been that day twelve years earlier.
“Papa, I feel I owe you...”
He put his hand up to stop her. “Elizabeth, please do not go on. Let me finish this letter and gather my words adequately before we begin.”
He completed the task of the letter laid out in front on him, sealed it, and put it on the tray with the others to be posted. Then he secured the lid on the ink well and put the various other accoutrements away, before finally sitting back in his chair, his hands held together and fingers steepled, touching his chin, as he just looked at his daughter who sat across the desk from him.
After a minute of silence, Mr Bennet finally said, “I must admit, it was a shock to me last night to be approached by a gentleman I had never heard a word about, who says he had a prior acquaintance, albeit peculiar in nature, with my daughter.” His lips twitched and a glint came to his eye. “Has my most sensible daughter lost all sense of propriety? Need I caution you on what a predicament this could have been if the gentleman had not been of such an honourable nature?”
She felt the strength of what he said, even if his tone was one of teasing.
He finally sat forward, reaching for her hand and squeezing her shaking fingers, “It is our great fortune that he does contain such honourable intentions. However, as your father, I feel it is my duty to caution you—we do not know him well enough to not hold some prudence in our heads before our hearts flutter about on romantic whims and fancies.” He smiled, “Perhaps there is a bit more of your mother in you than I have seen before now. Just remember to keep the smelling salts to a minimum, or I shall be forced to take the extra cost out of your allowance.”
Elizabeth’s lips rose in amusement at her father’s teasing. Harsh words were not needed from him, as she had already begun to run them through her own mind. “I am sorry if I have caused you any grief, Papa.”
“No, my dear, only a few flutters of my own heart, but it is nothing your mother’s smelling salts could not remedy for me as well.” He looked up at the clock, “Well, my visitor is to arrive in just a few minutes. Perhaps if you return at half past two, I will feel the need to end what I fear will be an agonizingly long game if I do not have a plan in place now.”
She chuckled, “Do you think he plays well enough to be a challenge?”
“He was the champion of his chess club when in school, and still holds some astounding records at his club. I fear I have met a gentleman who will soon surpass me in many ways in your eyes, my dear. Now go—and return when the clock tolls the bottom of the hour, not a minute before. I wish to present at least a passable attempt at challenging him today.”
Hearing her sisters readying themselves for a walk to Meryton, and not wanting to be asked if she would go with them, she decided it was best to return to her room for now instead of going outside. She sneaked quietly up the stairs and latched her door, so as to be assured of her privacy, then pulled her writing table over to the window seat and sat down, positioning herself so she could easily see outside where she now saw her mother, Kitty, and Lydia all walking towards Meryton. She tried to convince herself she was only interested in seeing the beauty of the Hertfordshire autumn, but truly it was the road leading up to Longbourn that could be seen as well that drew her to such a seat.
She rifled through her correspondence, finally pulling out a letter she recently received from her aunt. After its perusal, she pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and began her response back, though she found her mind wandered a bit too much for such a task today. Finally, after several minutes of trying, and failing, she decided it would be best to spend her time on something a little more private. So instead she went to the bed and pulled a small locked trunk out from under it. After finding the key, which she kept in her reticule, as she did not trust Lydia not to find it if she kept it anywhere else, she unlocked the trunk and pulled out the latest of her notebooks. She smiled and ran her hand over the fine leather, tooled with her name and an intricate knot design. This particular book came from her dear father. He had it made just for her, and his love and care showed in its design.
Elizabeth closed the trunk again, then returned to the window seat. She opened the inkwell, placing it within easy reach, and began to write the tale currently playing out so vividly in her mind. It was the story of two lovers who were torn from each other’s arms by a cruelty even fate would not support. She already knew how the two would find each other again, and she was eager to get to that part of the story, but her mind kept slipping back into the reality that surrounded her. Somehow her hero had turned into the vision of the gentleman she met the evening before. He was strong and resolute in his love, and it won over the heart of his fair lady quickly.
A noise from outside made her look up. Through the window she saw the arrival of three gentlemen on horseback. She knew one of them to be Mr Darcy, even from this distance, because of the way in which he held his shoulders. Even with so new an acquaintance, she could recognize him anywhere. Her heart began to beat profusely and she was not paying attention to the pages beneath her quill as the riders entered Longbourn’s courtyard and dismounted. When they disappeared from where she could see from this window, she finally looked back to her notebook and noticed the ink that now pooled on the page.
“Oh! What a mess I have made,” she muttered, grabbing a handkerchief to help mop up the ink splattered on the pages. She berated herself for having lost track of what she was doing, and in so doing ruining the lines she had spent the last few minutes penning.
After sanding her notebook and trying to remove the mess as best she could, she placed it back into the trunk and secured the lock, then went to the wash basin to see if she could salvage the handkerchief. The cool water washed most of the ink stains out, but she was certain she would have to dye it to cover up the rest. She laid it out on the side of the wash basin to dry, then opened her drawer to pull a fresh one out. Just beside the crisp white ones laundered by Hill so efficiently, Elizabeth noticed the small stack of handkerchiefs she had ruined in situations similar to her blunder today. With a sigh, she thought, I must ask Hill when the next dying vat is to be prepared. With a chuckle and a shrug of her shoulders, she closed the drawer.
The chime of the clock on her mantle made her heart start to beat more wildly than ever before. She checked her appearance in the mirror, then stood and left her room, securing the latch to ensure Lydia did not enter without their knowledge, then walked down to her father’s study and knocked on the heavy, wooden door.
“Enter,” Mr Bennet called from inside.
Elizabeth did as she was bid, and saw Mr Darcy and her father standing by the bookcase on the far side of the room. Both looked at ease, and that helped her keep her peace.
“Good day, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said with a bow.
“Good day, sir.” She curtsied. “I expected to find you still playing chess.”
“It seems I greatly underestimated Mr Darcy’s skill, my dear. He won the first of three games in only four moves. I decided after his third such win to bow out graceful
ly and concede that he is a much better player than I could ever hope to be.”
Darcy said with a small glimmer of the teasing which Mr Bennet had been giving him, “If you ever feel the need to be trounced again, sir, please do let me know, as I am at your service.”
He chuckled, “Elizabeth, perhaps Mr Darcy could use some air. I would accompany him out to the garden myself, but I find it is time I check on the others since your mother has gone to Meryton. Perhaps they too will feel the need for some fresh air,” he looked to the clock, “in, shall we say, twenty minutes?”
When Mr Bennet looked at him, Darcy gave the man a nod of silent gratitude for the time he would be given to speak with Miss Elizabeth alone.
Elizabeth smiled, “It would be my pleasure to accompany our guest, Papa.” She turned to address Mr Darcy, “This way, sir.”
He joined her, both taking their leave of Mr Bennet before going out into the garden.
After a few minutes of silently walking by her side, Darcy finally said, “It is with a heavy heart I must convey to you my regret in causing such discord between you and your father. He told me of his talk with you before my arrival.”
She smiled, “I dare say he has filled your mind with agonizing thoughts of our disapprobation. In truth, sir, he was as loving, and as teasing, as is his usual nature. It is my own fault, as I should have confided in him when I returned from London.” Elizabeth saw the bench that wrapped around the base of a tree near the back of the garden path. Knowing it would give them a few minutes of privacy before the others were to arrive at this particular spot, she asked, “Would you care to sit here, sir?”
He held out his hand to her, motioning for her to take a seat first, then he sat beside her. “Your garden is lovely.”
“My garden! Oh, no sir, this is the work of my mother and my sisters, especially Jane. I fear I hardly know the names of just a few flowers, and even those I fumble through when trying to remember which is which.”
He cocked his head, “I imagined you to be quite knowledgeable in that area.”
“I can see I have shocked you. Believe me, sir, I am sorely lacking in some skills which would, in my mother’s opinion, put me before eligible gentlemen in a more positive light.” She blushed when she realized what she said. “That is... I...”
He nodded as his lips raised just a tiny amount, the most she had seen so far in their encounters, and replied, “In some ways, you remind me of my sister. My mother was well versed in the flora of Derbyshire, but my sister was not old enough to be under her tutelage when my mother passed away. Mrs Reynolds tried to teach her, but Georgiana did not make the most pleasant of pupils at times, especially when she would prefer to be running through the fields and picking the flowers instead of learning how to care for them and what they were named.”
“Mrs Reynolds?”
“Yes, she is my housekeeper at Pemberley. I believe you are quite familiar with her son—Joseph.”
She nodded, remembering now when the boy who delivered the flowers to her gave his name. “Ahhh, yes, I do recognize it now. I am sure she is quite proud of her son.”
“She is—and most grateful for the opportunity I have given him in learning the trade of a steward.”
“Joseph spoke very highly of you, sir. However, there are two things he would never tell me—the name of the flower he delivered, and why you sent them in the first place.”
Darcy closed his eyes and shook his head, amusement in his voice as he replied, “I knew somehow you would find a way to come back to that today.”
“Are you prepared to answer my questions then?”
“I am.” He turned to face her better. “As to the first one—the name of the flower I sent you—I shall have to deny you the pleasure of knowing just yet.”
“But, sir...”
He held up his hand at her question, staying the query before the words left her lips. “My mother named the flower, and it is one I shall reveal in time, but not yet. I will, however, tell you that it is a variety my own mother created, and I have never seen its equal outside of the conservatory in Town and Pemberley’s gardens. That is why I chose it for you.”
She blushed. “Blue is my favorite color, and I have to say, I even went as far as searching the shops for the name.”
“I know,” he said confidently.
Her eyes grew wider when she finally realized just where she had seen him before. “It was you! You were the one who helped me into my carriage when it was raining!”
“Indeed, I am.”
“That must be where...” she caught herself before she embarrassed herself even further, stammering, “that is... when you arrived at the Assembly last evening, I recognized you, but could not place where we would have met.”
“Joseph told me of your quest to visit all the book shops and flower shops, but he could not determine why. So on that day I decided to venture in to see what you were searching for myself. I did not realize you would still be in the shop until I opened the door and saw you standing there.”
Elizabeth watched as he began to twist the signet ring he wore.
“I feel it is best to answer your second question before the others come upon us.” His hands could not remain still. As a boy he would frequently run his hands nervously through his curls, but he found it drew the attention of others too easily, so he had now picked up the habit of twisting the signet ring he wore. Now it was so much a habit that he easily went to it first when his mind was in a whirl, as it was now.
Elizabeth knew he was under a great deal of anxiety, just from the few words she heard between he and his cousin the night before, so she gave him the time he needed to put his thoughts into words.
“I know this will sound very strange to you, Miss Elizabeth, but you are truly my savior. I hope you do not feel forced by my attentions, but I feel a connection to you I cannot adequately explain, even to myself.”
She knew that feeling well, as it was something she felt as well. “I am comfortable with your attentions, sir, but I have often wondered—why me? Why would a stranger send me flowers that day in the park?”
“It was a dark day for me when I first saw you there. My sister had just died, and I fear it is my own failings that caused it. Left alone with only the two of us, and I being nearly twelve years her senior, she was left to my charge. As a brother I was satisfactory, but as a guardian I was gravely inadequate to the task. It was after a row with my sister that I insisted she return to Pemberley, our home in Derbyshire.”
Elizabeth watched as deep emotions tore through his features.
“It was two weeks later that I received word from Mrs Reynolds that Georgiana was ill. I immediately set out for Derbyshire, but the spring weather turned the usual three day journey into five days. By the time I arrived, the doctor could do nothing more for her. She was unconscious from the fever. I sat beside her bed, holding her hand, as the life slipped from her.”
Elizabeth’s heart broke with what he said. She could not imagine going through such turmoil.
“I buried my sister in the mausoleum where my parents are also entombed, and returned to London. I could not remain at Pemberley. It was the day after my arrival when I first saw you in the park. You were playing with some children, with the nurse and who appeared to be their mother looking on, and the smile on your face gave me such comfort. So I returned to that very park every day afterward. Your smile made me forget all the anger and pain in my own heart, if only for a few minutes.”
He could not look at her, so he stood, pacing as he tried to find the right words to express. “Then one day you were no longer smiling. I did not know what made you sad, but I knew it was something serious.”
“My aunt...” Elizabeth interjected. “My aunt was ill and I was worried for her and the child she carries.”
“You care for her deeply.”
“I do. She has been more of a mother to me at times than my own mother has been.”
“Well, I did not know the particu
lars, but I remembered something my sister once told me. When she was twelve, I was sad over the loss of our father, and she told me that flowers always made her smile, especially the ones our mother’s hands so tenderly cherished while she was alive. From that time on, Georgiana and I would give each other flowers from our mother’s garden when we noticed the other was woeful for any reason.”
“And so you decided to send me flowers so I would smile.”
“Yes.”
Elizabeth now understood completely, but she did not know what to say, so she remained silent.
“Each day I went to the park and hoped I would see you. Some days you were there, playing with the same children, or walking with your maid. I assume the children are your cousins?”
“Yes.”
“They brightened my day as well. On those days when you were alone and looked downcast, I had such a deep need to see you smile that I could not help myself from sending you flowers once again.”
“I am hardly worthy of being called your savior when you were the one bestowing such wondrous gifts upon me.”
“Miss Elizabeth, did you hear all of what my cousin had to say last night when we were on the portico?”
She blushed and looked down to her lap, “Yes, though I was not trying to eavesdrop.”
“I know that—it was not my intent to make you feel any unease. It is only—he joked that I must promise not to throw myself off the balcony.” He swallowed hard, trying not to lose his composure. “I was despondent enough to consider doing just that a few months ago. Your smiles saved me during those early weeks without my sister. Then when you left Town, I became so disheartened that my cousin and my friend refused to leave my side. They decided I had to get out of London. I refused to return to Pemberley. My friend was to let Netherfield after Michaelmas, so they determined it was for the best if I came with him. I was ready to reject their plea, even willing to resort to a more pugilistic response if they forced the issue, until I learned Netherfield was so close to Meryton... and to you, Miss Elizabeth. I knew I had to see you again... that if I did not, I might not make it another week. Your smile became the focus of my every breath.” He saw her becoming uncomfortable at his words, so he sat back down and turned to face her. “I regret only that it has taken so much for me to see what is clearly right in front of me.”
Whispered Kisses Page 4
