by J Dawn King
She sputtered, her stance rebellious. As she started to speak, he held up his hand to stop her. He wanted nothing more from the bitter woman in front of him. Caroline Bingley as Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley? Never!
He bowed.
“Good day to you, Charles.” Darcy glared at Miss Bingley. With a slight dip of his head, he left without saying another word. It was harsh, but it had to be done.
He was glad of it, happy and relieved to have the unpleasantness over. As he rode to town, he recalled he had one more task to complete. No longer would he shirk matters which touched on his personal life. He would pursue Wickham to the ends of the earth until he was punished for the crimes he committed to honest merchants and innocent females and the scoundrel was no longer a threat to the Darcys. He had set Miss Caroline Bingley in her place, crushing whatever hopes she had in attaching herself to him. Yes, one more task. Lady Catherine and her incessant demands that he marry his cousin, Anne, would need to understand he had no plans to agree with her goal. He would write to her that evening.
***
Soft light was glowing through the windows outside the Gardiner residence on Gracechurch Street, welcoming him to their home. The butler supplied information as to the location of the family as Darcy handed him his hat and coat. Georgiana had unexpectedly come downstairs.
He stood, framed in the doorway, observing. Shaking his head when Barton started to announce him, his eyes surveyed the richness before him.
The drawing room had been divided into two camps. Mr. Gardiner and Richard were sipping brandy while seated comfortably in front of the fire. Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Elizabeth, and Georgiana were chatting pleasantly in a small seating area near the front window. The Gardiner children were dotted randomly on the floor as they either quietly read children’s books or played with their toys.
He melted. This was his heart’s desire. This peaceful consanguinity between generations and relatives. This kinship extended to outsiders, inviting them into the solidity of their loving bonds.
Georgiana leaned into Miss Elizabeth’s side as she chuckled over the antics of one of the twins. They shared a smile. Darcy felt the strongest urge to stride over and plunk himself down between the two ladies, so he could participate in their joy.
Miss Elizabeth looked up and caught his eye. Without a word, she transmitted her curiosity at why he was standing like a lamp post. He smiled. Her eyes sparkled, and he knew she had never looked lovelier.
This caught Georgiana’s attention. She started to jump up, but sat down quickly. Miss Elizabeth clasped his sister’s hand in her own, her head shaking slowly. Mrs. Gardiner mimicked the motion. Apparently, there had been some rules set down prior to Georgiana’s being with the family instead of in her room.
As Barton finally performed his duty, Darcy approached, bent, and kissed his sister on the cheek. A strong urge shot through him to do the same to Miss Elizabeth. He chuckled. That would not do, at least, not with so many witnesses. He would hate to have his face slapped in public. It would have been a poor example for the children, his sister included.
“I am pleased to see you, Poppet,” he whispered.
“You are the second person to utter those exact same words, Brother.” Her smile reached her eyes, and for the first time, even in spite of the events of the past few weeks, he could see her maturing right in front of him.
“I see that Richard not only ‘borrows’ my newspapers and my brandy. He also ‘borrows’ my words.”
“Never!” His cousin had walked over to greet him, obviously eavesdropping.
Darcy slapped his hand on Richard’s shoulder, squeezing to get his attention. “Have you been here since your return?”
The question was phrased so a simple answer would inform him whether or not anything had been done yet to find Wickham. None of the others would understand.
“I have, Darce.” Richard shook his head slightly and glanced at Georgiana. “However, now you are here, I will return to my barracks. I have a ball to attend tomorrow and need all the beauty sleep I can get.”
While the others laughed, as his cousin had intended, the message was clear. The colonel would use the connexions from his regiment, selecting them from the men housed at the compound, to begin looking for the deserter. Neither man would rest until he was apprehended and Georgiana was protected. What Wickham could do with the knowledge of her pregnancy and subsequent loss of the child would ruin her permanently for polite society and crush her spirit. Only the rogue’s continued silence gave them hope.
“Miss Darcy, you have exceeded the time allowed,” Mrs. Gardiner gently reminded Georgiana. “Mr. Gardiner and I need to take the children upstairs to bed. Might you accompany us now that you know your brother has arrived safely? Perhaps he might spend some time with you before you sleep?”
It was a suggestion Darcy easily concurred with as it left him in the room with Miss Elizabeth.
He wondered at Mrs. Gardiner’s emptying the room of distraction, only to have Miss Elizabeth provide the answer.
“Pray, pardon my aunt, sir.” Miss Elizabeth had stood when she hugged his sister goodnight. “Colonel Fitzwilliam mentioned your brief visit to my family at Longbourn. He said nothing of note about your exchange with my father, only that he would leave it to your superior conversation skills to share the information.”
“He did, did he?” Darcy chortled. “My superior conversation skills? I have no clue to what he might be referring.”
“Neither do I, Mr. Darcy.”
Shared smiles and laughter are precious. His heart felt like it lifted in his chest, like it was hovering below his throat, impeding his smooth flow of words. He knew, inherently, it was not the physical organ causing the obstruction. It was her beauty. Her grace. Her calm presence in the face of a storm.
“Might we sit?” he asked, buying time. “I will be frank, Miss Elizabeth,” he began. “Your father was not pleased to have us at Longbourn.”
Sadness clouded Elizabeth’s lovely face. She dipped her head, her hands fisted in her lap.
“Never will I lie to you, nor will I try to deceive you by sharing half-truths.” At that, her head snapped up. “I shall undoubtedly reveal matters you probably will not want to hear.”
“My father?” she whispered.
“Yes, I will speak of your father, but only to tell you he felt he had no other information to share with you above what Miss Bennet has already done.” He watched her closely.
Fire lit her eyes. “You are prevaricating, sir, when you claimed you would not.”
“You are too perceptive,” he admitted. “And, you are correct.” He paused to better frame his words. “I inadvertently and shamefully learnt something about myself yesterday that, at first, hurt and angered me.”
“Yesterday?”
“Yes.” He hesitated because of the pain his words would bring and the damage they would cause to the fragile trust they had between them. “You spoke to your aunt of the similarities between my actions towards Wickham and your father’s inaction towards his family.”
She sucked in a breath as her eyes narrowed.
“Pray, hear my reasons for breaking a fundamental rule of good manners, Miss Elizabeth. Do not close me off now, I pray you,” he pleaded. If they were ever to get past the wall that stood between them, they both would have to set aside their pride and any hurt feelings. “You see, I needed to hear your reprisal, and to do so, I have justified my eavesdropping. I needed to be able to clearly identify what I needed to do to become the man I claimed to be.”
“Reprisal? Not, correction?” she asked in her own attempts to understand.
“Yes, reprisal, for I had hurt you. Unintentionally done, but done nevertheless.” He ran his hand through his hair. “All of my adult life, I have been proud to be the best parts of my parents. Yet, it was only in my own mind that I closely followed their footsteps. In reality, I failed in the fundamentals. Where I was superior, I should have been tolerant. Where I was efficient, I should
have been kind. Most importantly, where I was accountable, I should have done acts deserving of praise and accolades, rather than assume I was doing well in fulfilling my responsibilities. You see, Miss Elizabeth, I was culpable.”
He stood and began to pace. “I could see the flaws in your father where I could not see those very same faults in myself. But for you, I would continue in my ignorance, hurting the people I proclaimed to care about the most. Today, this is changed. I will no longer fail to act.” He stood still and looked closely at her, trying to read her mind, to determine how his words were affecting her. Nothing. He could ascertain not one thing. Women! They held all of life’s mysteries in their small hands. He huffed. “Richard and I rode to Meryton for the purpose of having Wickham arrested and thrown into prison. He was gone, and no one we spoke with had a clue of his destination.”
“Lydia,” she whispered.
“Yes, after speaking with your father, who has no intentions of writing to you, we found your two youngest sisters in the drawing room.” Darcy became cautious. She loved her sisters, and he needed to tell the truth in a way not accusatory. “Miss Lydia shared Wickham’s goal of hunting down Georgiana to do whatever he must to gain her fortune.”
“No!” Elizabeth leapt to her feet and paced. “We have to protect her. He cannot be allowed to find her.” She stopped in front of him. They were standing so close he could smell the soft floral scent uniquely her own. “What are you doing to find him?” she challenged.
He wanted to grab her and spin her until she clung to him. What a woman!
“I will not tell you I love you, Elizabeth, but at this moment, I admire you more than I have any woman I have ever known, including my beloved mother.” He smiled until his eyes almost closed. “You have been slighted. You have been hurt. You have been offended, yet you think of my sister. I am humbled by you.”
“Stuff and nonsense, Mr. Darcy.” Her slight grin gave her away. She had been affected by his words. Shaking her head, she persisted, “What has been done?”
“Richard awaited my return to start the search. With the asset of his regiment and some of the men’s connexions that reach like tentacles into the dregs of London society, we should apprehend him in no time,” he explained.
She nodded. “With the import of this mission, what kept you from returning with your cousin?”
He was not offended by her boldness. “So we have full disclosure, I will confess I rode to Netherfield Park to speak with Miss Bingley and her brother. After I heard your condemnation yesterday, I determined there were three issues which were unresolved. First and foremost was Wickham. The other two are personal matters I have allowed by my inaction to exist where they fermented until they took on a life of their own.”
“I do not understand.” She tilted her head to the side.
“Miss Caroline Bingley and Lady Catherine de Bourgh were left with the impression that I might consider their wishes in selecting a bride. In no uncertain terms, I spoke with Miss Bingley until she now discerns there is no hope of her becoming mistress of my estates. Once I return to Darcy House, I will pen a letter to my aunt, stating my unwillingness to give in to her demands to marry my cousin. I will not be moved.”
“I see.” Miss Elizabeth bit the edge of her thumbnail, a nervous gesture he had never noticed her doing before. “Thank you.”
He waited. She was a woman with strong opinions and a fiery disposition. He deserved to be scourged for listening in on a private conversation, and for admitting that he had, and for his crimes against the three he had mentioned. He was shocked when she smiled.
“You are not angry?” He could not have guessed her reaction in a million years.
“Why would I be?” Letting down her arms, he could see her hands relax at her sides. Her eyes glowed. “I have two sisters and a mother who view eavesdropping as a sport, something which they compete over quite regularly. As for your flaws, as you called them? Did you not already take steps to fix two out of the three? Are you not planning to have them all addressed before this night is over?”
“Yes.” He felt timid. Unsettled.
“Then I have to add this new information to what I already understood your character to be. We are getting to know one another, sir.”
Excitement rose in his chest. It was what she had requested, that they learn about each other. This was the purpose of a courtship. He was courting a woman! He was courting Elizabeth. He wanted to laugh and cry and shout to the moon.
“We are.”
Suddenly, he could not wait until the next evening when she would stand up with him for the first. They were courting! He felt like a dunce for overthinking this, but his heart was bursting with joy.
“My Elizabeth,” he sighed.
“Almost.”
That one word sounded like his personal definition of hope. He could live with “almost.”
CHAPTER 20
Darcy’s visit to Georgiana had gone well. That is, until she suggested he not come to Gracechurch Street on the morrow. He was surprised at how quickly he took offence. When she explained how a ball at the home of an earl was a special occasion for a lady, that it undoubtedly required hours of preparation and rest, he felt more at ease. Elizabeth, for she was again Elizabeth, would be getting ready for him. For him. He was a moon-calf, of that there was no longer any question.
He spent the night vacillating between nightmares of Wickham finding Georgiana and standing up with Elizabeth for the first dance. Perhaps his aunt would end the evening with a waltz. He would need to claim the final set as well and was frustrated with himself for failing to ask. He was a dunderhead!
Their search for Wickham the next day was in vain. They had found not even a hint of his whereabouts at the boardinghouse of Mrs. Younge, Georgiana’s traitorous former companion. Her surprise at them asking about her lover appeared genuine. Nevertheless, Richard stationed one of his men nearby in case Wickham returned.
Darcy speculated that the woman really did not have any valid information. Judging from the condition of her domicile, any money, even the small pittance she asked for, would have helped her circumstances. He gave her a few pounds with the promise of much more if she would aid their search. Mrs. Younge was too eager, and that worried both Darcy and the colonel. But that was their morning. Both men had a ball to attend. Since his university days, he had dreaded rooms filled with strangers and people he did not want to see. Tonight? He was looking forward to the event.
For the past hour, he had bathed, shaved, and been groomed until he almost glowed. His fine linen shirt and cravat were brilliantly white, and his black coat and trousers fit perfectly. He had secreted two of his waistcoats in his pocket when he visited the Gardiners to show his sister. He needed her help in selecting the one closer in colour to Elizabeth’s dress. Gratefully, she had chosen his favourite—a deep plum with white stripes bordered with silver thread. Georgiana had whispered that the amethyst jewellery and combs were set in silver rather than gold.
His amethyst stickpin and cuff links had been set in gold. A quick visit to the jewelers and they would match his ensemble, and hers. They were now beautifully encased in silver. With a final glance in the mirror, he approved every inch from the polished footwear to the style of his hair. He wondered briefly if his large grin made him look like a fool, then decided he cared not.
Mr. Gardiner had not accepted his offer to provide transport, insisting he would bring his niece to the Grosvenor Square residence of the Fitzwilliams. His aunt and uncle lived across the street and two houses down from Darcy House, so it was a short stroll to reach his anticipated destination. He was early. Really early. Uncaring that his family would tease him about his uncharacteristic timeliness, he sauntered into the house like he owned it.
Richard was downstairs early too. He was pacing back and forth just inside the doorway, persisting in being a hazard to the staff. The gentlemen shook hands, confirmed with a glance that they were both dressed in their finest, and grabbed a glass of s
omething slightly alcoholic from a passing footman.
“Has Miss Knowlton decided to remain at home this evening? Is this why you are pacing?” Darcy had to ask. His cousin had used every opportunity to torment him over the years. Rarely, had he seen Richard this unsettled.
“Ha! No, she is not remaining home. This is not why I am pacing.” He stopped and shrugged. “I have the utmost confidence in Cecily. She is a fine woman.”
“High praise, indeed.” Of course, Darcy knew who was the finest woman. Elizabeth.
“You rarely show up before the evening is half over, Darce. Are you nervous?” Richard easily turned the tables on him. He did not mind at all.
“Elizabeth will be here, I have no doubt.”
“Elizabeth, is it now?” A sly grin appeared on the colonel’s face.
