by J Dawn King
Tears dropped onto her lap as quiet sobs shook her. He wanted to join her as her pain filled his own heart.
“Georgie, dear.” He squeezed her fingers gently. “When we make mistakes, which we all do, we cannot go back and undo them.” He paused to consider how to put his thoughts into words.
“What is within our power is to learn what we can from them and then move forward. Will there be times of sadness and pain because of our mistakes? Beyond a shadow of a doubt. I, too, have much to regret. Though I cannot change what has been done, I can change what I do and how I act in the future. I am determined to become a better man.”
“But you are the best man, William. I know this to be true.” His sister whispered through her tears, though she still failed to look at him.
He chortled. “Hardly. In fact, do you know that not even two weeks ago, I knowingly insulted the family of a lady within her hearing? A few short weeks before, I insulted her looks almost to her face.”
He finally had her attention.
“You would not have done so, Brother. I know you.” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “You are saying these things to ease my guilt.”
“Oh, I am, am I?” Darcy smiled slightly. He would gladly sacrifice his pride for her behalf, especially with Elizabeth in the room witnessing his exposure. “Pray, ask Miss Elizabeth if I am not being honest. Ask her how I am looked upon by her family and friends, and by herself. Prepare yourself to be shocked, Sister, for my conduct was shameful.”
“He speaks the truth, Miss Darcy.” Elizabeth moved closer. “His conduct was offensive and his speech hurtful, for it was me he spoke of, me he conscripted to forever be a homely wallflower at a ball, undeserving of a partner to stand up with for even one dance.”
“Brother!” The tears stopped as a look of shock covered Georgiana’s face. “How could you? Miss Elizabeth is everything lovely.”
“Yes, Poppet, I am aware of Miss Elizabeth’s beauty. I am also aware of my sins.”
“But…” His sister looked between her brother and Elizabeth, confusion furling her brow.
“I am in love with Elizabeth, Georgiana.” He looked up at the woman standing beside him and knew the truth was in his eyes for her to see. “I long for her to agree to become my wife.” He held up his hand when his sister started to speak. “No, dear. Do not defend me or recommend me to her. Now is not the time.”
He breathed in deeply to clarify in his mind what he wanted to say. “I have erred most grievously. Because I proved to all in Hertfordshire over a period of weeks that I was undeserving of their company and good opinion, it will take time for me to prove I am not the man they came to know. Especially do I need to prove this to Miss Elizabeth. I am unworthy. However, with that said, once she comes to trust me, that I am a man she could admire and respect, I will, again, ask for her hand.”
“Hmm.” Georgiana muttered. “So, you refused to dance with her, and she refused your offer of marriage. It almost sounds like you are in a worse mess than I am, Brother.”
“That I am.” He squeezed the fingers he still held. “Tonight is a new beginning for all of us. While we are at the opera, I would hope you think upon the choices you have before you. Will you wallow away in misery as you condemn yourself to a lifetime of regrets, or will you accept the wrong you have done and move on? This is a choice only you can make. I will be here to guide you and to help you along, as only an ignorant brother can do. I will not leave you.”
“I love you too, William,” his sister whispered.
He leaned forward to place a soft kiss on her cheek. “I am happy you do not have a fever. I am happy you are safe. I am happy you are not married to Wickham. I am happy you are my sister.”
“And I am happy you are my brother, as well.”
He stood and turned to Elizabeth. “Are you ready?”
“I am.”
Offering his arm, they turned and walked to the door. Before stepping out into the hallway he looked back. His sister was smiling at the two of them. He winked at her, then gave his full attention to the woman at his side. It was a start.
CHAPTER 14
“You are unfair, sir.” Elizabeth, whom he could no longer think of formally as Miss Elizabeth, whispered to him as he handed her out of the carriage. At the last minute, Mr. Gardiner had an emergency at his place of business, so a maid had accompanied them as chaperone.
“I believe I will need every advantage to get through this evening, Elizabeth.” He wrapped her hand around his elbow as they started up the stairs to the theatre entrance.
“Miss Elizabeth,” she insisted—her brow rose as the side of her mouth moved into a smile.
“Pray, pardon me, Miss Elizabeth.” He smiled back, determined they would be a united front when they walked through the door.
She shook her head at him. “You are becoming far too bold, Mr. Darcy. Your declaring your feelings to your sister in front of me, I might add, was a mean art, a paltry trick to garner my affections.”
“Did it work?” How he enjoyed her smiles. He could look upon her face for the next seventy years and not tire of it.
She pinched the inside of his elbow, though the bunching of fabric kept him from sharply feeling her reprimand.
“Mr. Darcy!”
Leaning his head towards hers, so he would be unheard by others, he softly whispered, his breath slightly moving the curls at her temples. “As you wish, I act the friend. I will do so until you allow me more.”
“Incorrigible!” she hissed back at him, though there was no venom in her voice.
“Yes, ma’am. The incorrigible Fitzwilliam Darcy at your service.” He bowed, then guided her along as they moved into the crowded lobby, his smile genuine.
“Darcy!” He heard his cousin before he saw him. Looking in the direction of the noise, he found Richard standing with his parents, a lovely young woman attached to his arm.
Darcy looked at Elizabeth and nodded his head in the direction they needed to walk. The crowd pressed against them, forcing Elizabeth to step slightly behind him. He pulled his elbow in tighter to his side, covering her fingers with his right hand. It would not do to be separated.
Just before reaching his family, he turned back to Elizabeth. Lowering his voice, he leaned as close to her ear as allowable in the crowd.
“You should know. My uncle is aware of my attachment to you. I have no doubt he has shared this information with my aunt.”
This time she pinched hard enough that it hurt—barely.
“You will pay for this, sir.”
Laughter burst from him. “Of that I have no doubt.”
A hush fell over the crowd as he noted how the two of them had caught the attention of those gathered. Good! Let them wonder who the fascinating woman is at his side who can make Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy break out of his shell.
Darcy watched his uncle carefully as introductions were made. A look of surprise flitted quickly across Lord Matlock’s face and was gone in an instant. Good! Let him see how comfortable Darcy is having her on his arm.
He turned to catch Elizabeth’s impressions in her expressive eyes and found himself facing the one man he had hoped to avoid—Lord Percival Sternhaven. He had every reason to be fearful, but no reason to be intimidated.
“Say, Darcy. I am surprised to see you out tonight,” the man’s voice boomed, every syllable bouncing from wall to wall. “Is your sister not with you?”
Darcy wanted to grit his teeth and hit the man square in the mouth. Instead, he forced, by sheer will, his shoulders to relax.
“My sister is not yet out, Lord Sternhaven.” He gave a slight bow, preparing to speak with his uncle.
“Say, Darcy. How is your sister? I had heard she was in distress, and you had to come to her rescue.”
Darcy’s fingers itched to strike the puffy flesh of the older man’s jowls.
“Miss Darcy is currently staying with friends. When I left her, she had a smile on her face and a gleam in her eye.” Darcy
pulled his weapon from his verbal arsenal. “But say, where are your daughters? I believe them to be both out in society. Are they not fond of the opera?”
Lord Sternhaven’s sputter was momentary. “No, they are not. Do not side-track me, Darcy. I know what you are about. We were speaking of your sister’s distress.”
“No, we were not,” he growled. Then, he felt Elizabeth’s hand slide from his elbow to cover his fist. The relief he felt was immediate. Camaraderie. Support. The troops had rallied.
“Pardon me. Lord Sternhaven, is it?” Elizabeth’s voice was almost a whisper so Darcy’s opponent had to lean forward to hear.
“Yes. I am Lord Sternhaven. And who are you?”
The appraising look he gave Elizabeth was offensive. Darcy felt her fingers squeeze his. He took a deep breath.
“I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire, my lord.” She tilted her head to one side. “I must admit, sir, that your wife is quite lovely. Your daughters must be as well. If it would not be too much to ask, might we be introduced?”
It was boldly done, though couched in polite terms. The woman standing behind Lord Sternhaven was not his wife. She was a widow who prowled the edges of the ton’s social calendar in pursuit of a keeper. Indeed, Elizabeth was correct. She was lovely in the deep burgundy satin gown with rubies set in gold surrounding her neck and wrist. Nevertheless, Darcy knew her to be almost as immoral as Wickham. Everyone else in their group knew it too, except for Elizabeth.
He looked closely at the young lady beside him and comprehended her intelligence. She knew. Somehow, she had correctly figured out the situation and, by her question, had placed Lord Sternhaven in an untenable position. Should he perform the introduction, he would have to admit his evil proclivities. Should he not, he would be slighting Darcy.
When he failed to answer, Elizabeth’s brow went up as she leaned closer to him. Darcy leaned in as well.
“Since you choose not to present your ‘wife,’ we will choose not to speak of young daughters or sisters, agreed?” She did not blink and neither did Lord Sternhaven. “I believe you will find, my lord, that you should exercise caution when choosing your battles. This is one you will not win.”
Stepping back, Elizabeth turned her head away from the man towards Lord Matlock. Lifting her chin, her eyes challenged him. Unexpectedly, but happily, Lord Matlock offered his arm to Elizabeth. Inside, Darcy rejoiced. This sent a message clearer than words that Elizabeth was a person of importance to the Fitzwilliam family. Her position in society was surely secured.
Lord Sternhaven spun on his heels. Grabbing the widow harshly, he led her away from them to gather their outer clothes and leave the theatre.
Darcy turned to escort his aunt, instantly missing the feel of Elizabeth’s hand in his.
“She is quite something, your young lady,” Aunt Helen observed.
Darcy smiled so broadly his cheeks almost blocked his vision. Elizabeth’s regal carriage as she climbed the staircase next to Lord Matlock, was unparalleled. When she laughed at something his uncle said, the pleasant tones filled the lobby. Darcy was not the only one smiling. “That she is.”
***
“You have held my hand three times now.” He tilted his head closer to hers. The seating arrangements were perfect. Darcy, Elizabeth, Miss Knowlton, and Richard were in the front row with the Matlocks seated behind.
“I have, have I not?” He could hear her smile in her words. The darkened theatre signaled the opera was about to begin. “What do you make of it, Mr. Darcy?”
“I know only what I hope, Elizabeth.”
“Miss Elizabeth.”
He chuckled softly. She refused to turn her head, keeping her eyes focused on the empty stage.
“Miss Elizabeth, I believe you single-handedly vanquished an enemy.” He was proud of her.
“No, sir. I merely played on his deepest fears, the possible exposure of his own daughter’s sins. For I believe his purpose was the same as ours. I am a distraction to stifle talk of Miss Darcy. The woman with Lord Sternhaven was the same.”
“You are far more than a distraction, though you do keep my thinking muddled.” He could not believe he, Fitzwilliam Darcy, was flirting with a woman. He had never done so, nor was aware he even had the skill. His chest inflated at the thought. Pride filled him. Her next words shot the air from his lungs.
“I caution you, Mr. Darcy. Our agreement is friendship and you are walking a fine line into territory I do not think you want to tread.” Her breathing quickened. “All three times I clasped my hand to yours was the reaction of a concerned friend. Do not read more into my decision to display my compassion, sir. It will not do. You had a purpose tonight, and it was accomplished.”
How quickly he could go from delight to fierce determination. How he longed to make her listen to him, to believe him, and to accept that his feelings were true.
“Yes,” he hissed. “It was accomplished. Are you not finding any pleasure in my company? Do you wish you were back in the nursery playing childish games with the Gardiner children? Do you not appreciate the elevated company you are keeping tonight because of me?” His thumb hit his chest.
“Mr. Darcy,” she hissed back, “you speak of change in the same manner you would when deciding which waistcoat to wear, easily discarding one and trying on another. Several times you have promised you would show me a man without arrogance, yet he keeps showing up. Other times you have proclaimed strong feelings for me, then you say or do something that shows me you have no idea who I truly am. Do you, in actuality, find your aunt and uncle to be superior to my own? Mine who have offered you and your family every consideration? For, I am certain, I could enjoy the company of the Fitzwilliam family, not for who they are, but for the quality of their characters.”
“I comprehend your meaning,” he shot back, offended that she did not recognize his struggles or his progress.
“No, I do not think you do or you would not attempt a flirt, you would not offer insult by suggesting I should grovel when in company with you and your Fitzwilliam family, and you, Mr. Darcy, would not patronize me by treating me as a simple-minded miss who accepts what I am told by you when your conduct flies in opposition to your words. Was I not clear when we spoke in the parlour? I do not know you. You have gone so rapidly from disdain to tender affection that I cannot believe it to be real. You are giving me no time as you promised. You are being blatantly unfair.”
“You have said enough.” He moved as far to the left as he could without vacating the seat. How could she not see that his way was the better way? If she would only accept his attentions and affections, they could, together, help Georgiana over the rough times coming in the next few months and unitedly enjoy wedded bliss. He was a reasonable man. She was a reasonable woman. Why did she not accept that the almost eight-year difference in their ages, his university education, his successful oversight of the Darcy properties and investments, his position in society, and his knowledge as a man of the world made him superior in his opinions? She should be happy to follow his lead. Bingley did. Even the colonel did.
He sucked in a breath, holding it until he felt pain in his chest. Good heavens! She was right. He was overbearing and arrogant. Was that not what Lydia Bennet, Bingley, and Richard already knew about him? Of course, it was. He rubbed his mouth with his hand, breathing in slowly through his nostrils, closing his eyes. Had he not learnt anything?
He had been condescending. How could he do that to someone he loved? Had he been the same with Georgiana? Was that what kept her from opening her heart to him? He had thought the problem was her youthfulness. What if it was not?
“Oh, Lord.” He shifted his weight to the other side of his chair, his humiliation filling him from head to toe. How the mighty Fitzwilliam Darcy keeps falling and failing. “I am sorry, Miss Elizabeth. Very sorry.”
She refused to look at him, and he did not blame her at all.
CHAPTER 15
“Welcome, sir.” The Gardin
er’s butler quickly relieved Darcy of his hat, gloves, and outer coat. “Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Elizabeth are in the drawing room. Might I present you prior to visiting your sister, or will you be going straight up?”
The morning following the opera, Elizabeth had again been with her young cousins. Darcy wondered if her absence had been on purpose. He would not know until he spoke to her.
His sister had been far more welcoming than at any other time since they had arrived at the Gardiner household. In the hours he spent with Georgiana, they had not spoken once about the loss of the child. Instead, they revisited events from their past, both pleasant and troublesome. He could not fail to be impressed with her fortitude. Yet, why should she not be? She was a Darcy.
