Darcy Comes to Rosings, page 7
Elizabeth laughed. “And this is the marriage advice you give me!” But of course it was. It was exactly how she was managing Mr. Collins.
Charlotte smiled affectionately. “Remember when we read The Taming of the Shrew together? You complained that Petruchio had destroyed Kate’s spirit. And I said he had taught her to rein in her passions, as a means to secure her own happiness. I would never suggest that you marry a man you do not love. But your dislike of Mr. Darcy is based on nothing more than his slight of you the night you met, and the report of a man you barely know. Mr. Wickham seems personable, but do you really know any more of his character than you do of Mr. Darcy’s? Do you not think you should at least get to know Mr. Darcy before you determine you cannot marry him?”
Lizzy looked toward the sky, watching the birds fly overhead and listening to their song. “It is unimaginable.”
“Oh, I doubt that. You are quite clever. I believe you could imagine it down to the last detail. Mistress of Pemberley, which is superior to Rosings in every way. You were thinking of it during the picnic today—do not deny it. You may not like him now, but my advice to you is to try harder.”
Chapter 6
After the service on Sunday, Lizzy stepped out of the grey stone church with Charlotte and Maria. The tall steeple and heavy wooden doors were expertly carved. The building was modern with beautiful stained glass, modest in size yet splendid in detail. There could be no doubt that this was the result of Lady Catherine’s patronage.
For all her officiousness, Lady Catherine was generous to the parish. She took her noblesse oblige seriously, as she did all things. She gave, and she expected loyalty in return. Nonetheless, she did seem truly concerned with the welfare of those within her sphere of influence—even if that concern was not always wanted or needed.
Lady Catherine stepped into her barouche to head back to Rosings, along with Miss de Bourgh, her companion Mrs. Jenkinson, and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Darcy, however, approached Charlotte.
“Mrs. Collins,” said he, “might I accompany you and your fair friends home?”
Charlotte gave him a bright smile. “I would be obliged, sir. My husband has much to do after the service, as you can imagine.”
“Of course.”
Whilst Charlotte informed Mr. Collins, Lizzy bit her tongue. Apparently Darcy had recognized an ally in Charlotte. Yet the last thing Lizzy wanted was another awkward conversation with this man, so tall and handsome and proud.
And tall.
And handsome.
Lizzy’s opinion was unswayed by the effects of his person, though his nearness as he walked by her side toward the parsonage caused a fluttering in her heart and a quickening of her breath. In all the months she had known him, she had found his company barely tolerable. He was not handsome enough to tempt her.
Never mind that he had called her enchanting the day before, and apologized profusely for his slight of her at the Meryton ball. Nor that his behaviour in Kent had shown him to be a different sort of man than the one she had imagined in Hertfordshire.
Kinder. Less cold.
The man had his charms—she could not deny it. Yet it was not his actions toward herself that she blamed him for. The harm he had caused to Jane and to Wickham remained foremost in her thoughts.
Soon Charlotte and Maria began to lag behind. No coincidence, that. Darcy did not hesitate to put their time out of earshot of the others to good use.
“Miss Bennet, I hope you will indulge me. I have been uneasy since we spoke yesterday. I shall not be at peace until I have said these words. The night we met, my behaviour was beastly—”
“Mr. Darcy, this is entirely unnecessary.” Cold blossomed in the pit of her stomach. She did not want to rehash that night—she wanted to forget it had ever happened. Had he not already explained himself?
Consternation crossed his features. “I do not expect you to excuse me for it. Yesterday I made light of Georgiana’s situation, and I should not have done that. Not with you. When you hear the full story, I know I can count on your discretion.”
She wanted to protest—he ought not entrust his secrets to her, when she was no more to him than an acquaintance. He was singling her out again. The thought twisted her stomach into knots.
Yet she did not interrupt. Clearly, speaking these words was important to him. Lizzy could indulge him that far, at least.
He looked off into the distance. A twig crunched under her foot as she waited for him to gather his thoughts. She had come to realize that he valued precision and did not rush. After nearly a month listening to Mr. Collins’ prattling, she was beginning to appreciate Darcy’s judiciousness.
At last, he set his jaw and continued, “At the time of the ball, my sister was suffering the worst sort of heartache. She had nearly fallen prey to a scoundrel.”
“Oh!” She stopped short, the revelation taking her breath away. How dreadful—no wonder he had been preoccupied. If anything like that had befallen one of her sisters, she would have been beside herself with grief.
She looked down and realized that without knowing or meaning to, she had grasped his gloved hand in hers. Her gaze travelled upward and met his eyes, pain evident in their dark pools, in the tight crease between his brows.
That expression undid her, liquefying her resolve. Darcy was not a beast. A tender heart beat in his chest, and in that moment she felt a strange pull to place her hand there, to feel its rhythm.
But the mere fact of his love for his sister did not excuse the coldness he showed toward those not connected to him. Even if she recognized his good qualities, she could not forget the bad. Steeling her spine, she forced herself to release his hand, and walked forward again.
“I considered last night whether I ought to confide in you,” he added. “You have said that I am a puzzle, and perhaps this will provide one of the missing pieces. I wish you to know my heart, Miss Bennet. I trust you will tell no one what I am about to impart.”
She ought to deny him. She had no desire to increase the intimacy between them. In the end, her curiosity won out. “Of course—I would not betray a confidence.”
He nodded, walking at a slow pace. “On the day of the ball, I received a letter from Lady Adelaide—my cousin’s wife, with whom my sister was staying at the time. Georgiana was in poor spirits, and Lady Adelaide was considering an excursion to the Cotswolds to cheer her. She wanted my opinion.”
He coloured and grew silent a moment before continuing. “About six months earlier, Georgiana had fallen under the spell of a man courting her for her fortune of thirty thousand pounds. She was but fifteen at the time and besotted.”
He tugged at the hem of his glove, clearly uncomfortable. “The man is as worthless as they come. I immediately removed her from his influence, and from the school where she was staying.”
Lizzy nodded. She could sympathize with the girl, but also saw how a guardian would have to take such actions to protect her. “Most girls that age would be unhappy at such treatment.”
“Georgiana is a sweet, obedient girl. She accepted that I was acting in her best interest. Still, her heart was broken. The letter from Lady Adelaide confirmed my fears that she was pining for him. A man not fit to set his foot in the dirt where she trod,” he added with a growl.
Elizabeth saw true sorrow in his eyes. At the same time, she could not forget how Darcy had separated Bingley from Jane. Might this have been the same kind of situation? “Poor girl. To have a brother who disapproves of the man she loves—”
“I assure you, these were not star-crossed lovers. I have known the man all my life—he is dissolute and unscrupulous, a dozen years her senior. If you were in the same circumstances, would you not do anything in your power to protect your sister? Would your heart not grieve the harm he had done her?”
Lizzy grew thoughtful. With so little information, it was impossible to tell whether Darcy was the hero or villain in the story. “Indeed, sir, I know well the pain of seeing a beloved sister suffering a broken heart. I have been in that predicament since a mutual friend of ours departed Hertfordshire. My sister protests that she will forget him, but every letter is as full of his name as the last.”
Darcy stopped. “Miss Bennet—”
“Oh, do not trouble yourself. She has not seen him. His sisters have made sure of that. He is quite safe.”
She moved quickly, putting space between them. With his long strides, he easily caught up. They continued in silence a while before Darcy said, “Perhaps I have been mistaken.”
She stopped and stared. “You have been quite mistaken, sir, where my sister Jane is concerned. You have overthrown her best chance for happiness.” Her face warmed, and tears prickled at her eyes. She had said too much, but she was not sorry. Darcy ought to feel the force of the damage he had done.
“I had no idea of her harbouring any serious feelings. She was quite serene in his company. It was your mother who showed all the eagerness—”
“Mr. Darcy! Whatever you may think of her, she is my mother. I shall not hear her disparaged.”
“Pardon me. I meant no disrespect.” He straightened his coat. “It seems I have made an error in judgment.”
She scoffed. “Have you indeed?”
“You have every reason, every right to be angry. I confess I saw no ardour in your sister—”
“You are not the only one uncomfortable showing strong passions in public.” With the cottage now in sight, she continued walking on.
He fell into step beside her and was silent a long time. At last, he said, “I shall remedy this.”
“Some things, sir, cannot be remedied.” They reached the gate, and she went inside without another word to him.
∞∞∞
On her walk the next morning, Lizzy found herself nearing the path back to Hunsford Cottage with her mind still unsettled. The pale leaves of spring were giving way to their summer colours. Primroses were fading, and honeysuckle just starting to release its delicious fragrance. The grasses were full and thick, alive with bees and butterflies.
Darcy’s confession about his sister had made Lizzy both more sympathetic and more wary. Was this a habit of his? Separating lovers he found unsuitable? Who was he to judge?
In the case of his sister, of course, he was within his rights. With Georgiana at such a tender age, perhaps the man in question had been preying on her. Elizabeth did not know what to make of it, and until she had puzzled it out, she was in no mood for the noise of the cottage.
She followed a route she had tried only once before. Meandering between a wildflower meadow and a tall hedgerow, she came upon more genial company than she had encountered during her previous outings.
“Taking your morning exercise?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.
“I have been out a bit longer than usual. Preoccupied, I suppose.”
She had barely slept the night before, her mind filled with the most distressing thoughts. Whatever the circumstances might have been with regard to his sister, Darcy had all but admitted his responsibility for separating Bingley from Jane. The audacity of the man, inserting himself into a situation that did not concern him! How could she ever respect him after he had done such harm to the dearest person in the world to her?
“No bad news from home, I hope?” the colonel asked
“Nothing unexpected. The news has been…the usual.”
He walked in step with her. “Your family is well?”
“Oh yes, quite well. Truly, it is nothing to concern yourself with.” She gave him a grateful smile. “You have the fate of the nation on your shoulders.”
“Not on mine alone. At least I hope not, or the nation might be in terrible danger.”
She chuckled. “I have no doubt of your abilities, but I appreciate your modesty. You are so different from your cousin in that way.”
He lifted his brows. “I have not known Darcy to be a braggart.”
Her lips parted in confusion. “No, of course not. I apologize. I do not mean to speak ill of him.”
“Perhaps your preoccupation this morning has to do with him?”
They approached a copse of trees, and the tapping of a woodpecker interrupted the stillness. The sun was bright, the sky cloudless, the air comfortably warm for late April. She could not imagine a more pleasant day for walking. Yet her thoughts troubled her.
She pressed her gloved fingertips together. “I cannot make out Mr. Darcy’s character. He says he considers no one beneath him, yet in Hertfordshire, he acted as though everyone were beneath him. And in some sense, everyone was, certainly with regard to breeding and fortune. He showed not the least interest in making himself amiable.”
The colonel gave a thoughtful nod. “He is cautious, and does not make friends easily. To those who do manage to win his favour, he is generous and loyal. I hope that grants him some measure of approbation in your eyes?”
Did it? Kindness toward one’s friends was hardly an uncommon quality. “He has described himself as resentful. Is that his greatest fault, do you think?”
“He is not the sort of person you can fool twice. I am not certain that makes him resentful.”
She quirked her lips into a wry smile. “So even his flaws are strengths in your eyes.”
He grinned and shook his head. “I have known him his whole life. He is amongst the best of men. You have not seen enough of him to really know him, Miss Bennet. I pray you, get to know him better before you reach any conclusions.”
“For your sake,” she said, “and yours alone, I shall try. Perhaps at dinner tonight.”
“Unfortunately, he left at first light with business in London. We expect him back tomorrow.”
Lizzy’s heart sank at the news. It ought to have filled her with joy. In truth, it would be better if she never saw Darcy again—never looked into those intelligent dark eyes, never heard the flattery in his smooth baritone, never felt her breath hitch when she caught sight of his tall figure and aristocratic bearing.
She could no longer deny that she felt drawn to him. But he was the wrong sort of man. She ought not to consider marriage to him, but her imagination kept running away with her. The weeks until her return to Longbourn would be interminable.
But she would stay strong. She would not succumb to Mr. Darcy.
Chapter 7
Darcy had been inside few homes in Cheapside and usually found them drab and cramped. This one, however, was like an exhibition hall. As the maid led him toward the drawing room, he noted the décor. It included fashionable pieces from around the world: teak elephants from India, silk tapestries from China, porcelain figurines from Dresden. Mr. Gardiner’s business must be profitable indeed.
The maid opened the door to the drawing room, announcing him to the ladies of the house. Miss Jane Bennet looked up with astonishment in her eyes. Her beauty was still breathtaking—eyes a deep sapphire blue, blond ringlets framing her face. But the pallor in her cheek confirmed the suffering she had endured in the months of Bingley’s absence. If Darcy had indeed caused her harm, he would make amends.
He bowed to the lady with her, whom he assumed to be Mrs. Gardiner. He was surprised that she was perhaps only five years older than himself, a red-headed beauty with a contagious smile.
“Miss Bennet,” he said to Jane, “delightful to see you. Will you do me the honour of introducing me to your companion?”
“Of course,” she said in a rushed voice. “This is my aunt, Mrs. Gardiner. Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.”
“Pemberley! Good heavens!” Mrs. Gardiner said in a refined but enthusiastic voice. “I grew up in Derbyshire, and have ridden through the park there many times. What a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir.” She motioned for him to sit.
“The pleasure is all mine.” He took a chair near Jane and said to Mrs. Gardiner, “You must excuse my coming unannounced, madam. I have arrived today from Kent, where I have had the pleasure of seeing your niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She is quite well. The air there seems to agree with her.”
He winced. This was why he did not converse with strangers. He sounded stiff and insipid.
“I am pleased to hear it,” Mrs. Gardiner said, looking gratified.
He turned to Jane. “Miss Bennet, how do you find London?”
“I find the quiet here soothing.”
He blinked. “London quieter than the country?”
“You obviously have not lived in a house with four sisters, sir.”
He smiled at that. “But you must find the variety of social events here more stimulating.”
“In truth, we hardly go out in the evening.”
He blinked, taking in that information. “I am surprised.” Then, Elizabeth’s voice sounded in his mind. “I can imagine what your sister Miss Elizabeth would say, were she here. She would declare that you lived in such retirement, you had not been to Almack’s above three times.”
Mrs. Gardiner laughed. “That is precisely what dear Lizzy would say.”
But Miss Bennet did not smile. Miss Bennet looked deeply unhappy. And it was his doing.
Jane was a beautiful and accomplished young woman whose circumstances required her to marry well. Yet she chose to stay hidden away here during the London season. That told of a deep melancholy.
Elizabeth had not exaggerated. Jane’s heart was broken.
He hated what he was about to say, but he had to know. “Have you seen the Bingleys since you have been in town?”
Jane blanched, then rose and walked to the window. “I have seen Caroline twice.”
Darcy rose. “And you have not seen her brother at all?”
“No, sir.” Her voice was exceedingly weak.
“Then he must not know you are in town.”
She turned and looked at him, the expression in her eyes almost wild. “Caroline assured me that he knows.”
“I assure you that he does not.” He watched her carefully, heart aching at the confusion in her countenance. “Given that you have been in town nearly four months, and Caroline has endeavoured to see you no more than twice, I think you can observe that she is no friend to you. It pains me, because you deserved better from her.”
