“Remind me, Mr. Darcy. Where did you go when you left here so suddenly?”
He coloured. “Pemberley.”
“You could not have made it there and back in the time you were away.”
“I told you. I forgot something.”
“What did you forget?”
“Why is it of such interest to you? Did you fall and hit your head?”
“No, I have not hurt myself!” she cried. “I only mean to establish that it was you! It can only have been you. You orchestrated this!”
“Madam, I fear you have caught a fever!”
“No. I see it all clearly now! You were gone. Bingley said you had returned to Pemberley, but you could not have. You claimed to have forgotten something, but you are not the forgetful type, Mr. Darcy. In any case, you would not have realised you had forgotten something until you reached Pemberley and your trunk was unpacked. Even then you could have sent for it.”
He sighed. “I suppose that is true. Perhaps I ought to have given it more thought knowing that you would attempt to find the inconsistencies in my story. Why could you not simply believe it?”
She shook her head. “I will not be able to rest until I know who was responsible.”
“Why not? Why not just accept that Wickham will never again cause your family such heartache and worry?”
“So it was you.” She took a step closer.
He sighed and bowed his head. “I did not wish for you to know. I never wanted you to know.”
“You paid Hardy.”
“It was my decision and mine alone.”
“But why?” she gasped. “I heard what he was demanding. It was too much for a family member to pay, let alone a stranger.”
“As I said, it was my decision. And this is why I did not want you to know.”
“It is too much!”
“It is not. I very much wanted to help.” He brightened then. “I can see one advantage to you knowing the truth. When I returned yesterday, I had already taken care of the matter. So you see, I did not ask for your hand out of a sense of obligation to Bingley.”
She began to laugh, a startling sound in the quiet of the park. “But why did you not tell me! There was no sense in it!”
“But there was. I did not want you to feel obligated to accept my proposal, which you now surely would. I had hoped that I might resolve the situation without influencing your view of me.”
She stared up at him in dismay, for he appeared positively forlorn.
“I cannot understand why you would be so generous.”
He glanced up with the shadow of a rueful smile still on his face. “No? I cannot see why. It is simple.” He turned away for a moment and cleared his throat. When he turned back to her, he was so composed that she wondered if she had simply imagined his heightened emotional state. “Madam, I ask only one thing.”
“Yes?” She was almost breathless with anticipation.
“You must forget what you have learnt. I do not want anything in return only that your family must never know the truth. It should be sufficient for them to know that Mr. Hardy has had a change of heart. I feel my dear friend has such goodness in his heart that he will willingly believe this, and I suspect his dear wife is the same. That is my reward: knowing that when I leave my dear friends will be relaxed and without worry.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
That was not at all what Elizabeth had expected him to say. She blinked, startled.
“I promise I shall not utter a word about it to anyone. But, Mr. Darcy, it sounds to me as if you do not plan to stay here much longer.”
“You are correct.”
“But why? It is resolved now. And your stated departure for Pemberley was surely a ruse to make us think you had gone there and not to Hardy. I thought you intended to stay a while and renew your acquaintance with Bingley.”
“I… I must leave now, Miss Bennet. It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance again.”
He tilted his head and turned to walk away. Elizabeth watched him move up the hill as if it was happening in a dream. She had not expected this. She had emerged from the confusion and turmoil in her mind expecting him to propose again. After all, had he not just told her his proposal had come after he had settled things with Hardy?
He was a hundred yards or so away when she realised he was serious about leaving. Her confusion changed to panic.
How could she have misjudged the situation so gravely? She had allowed her pride to keep her from the only man she had ever loved. And look what he had done for her family! She still could not understand why he had done it.
She stared in dismay at his rapidly moving figure. Before she knew quite what she was doing, Elizabeth began to run.
Darcy’s stride was naturally long and purposeful, so it was not easy for her to gain ground on him. The hill was steep and mostly bare, making it difficult to walk on and a treacherous place to run without slipping. She would have cried out in frustration had she not already been struggling for breath.
The house came into view. Darcy was still at least a hundred yards away. She slipped on a thick clump of grass and almost tumbled. She refused to stop. She would not. She did not know what she would say to him. What was she to do? Grab his arm and refuse to let go again until he had repeated his proposal? It was mad! He would probably be shocked by her behaviour.
Yet she could not stop. Her legs powered on even though they ached now. She was still carefully descending the hill when Darcy reached the part where the ground levelled off. He strode along the path that led into the small demesne that surrounded the house.
She would not reach him before he made it to the house. She could not. And what was to be done in the house? She could not bring herself to cause a scene in front of others; not after everything they had been through. Miss Bingley would no doubt be present, and that young lady would seize the opportunity to ridicule Elizabeth for her foolish behaviour.
Nevertheless, she did not slow, even though the gap between them was larger than ever. She refused to give up.
And then a curious thing happened. The gap between them became smaller and smaller. It took her several moments to realise that it was because Darcy had come to a complete stop, standing there in the short grass with the house looming up ahead.
She drove herself on despite the pain in her lungs and her limbs. She still did not know what she intended to say to him, but it did not matter. She would never forgive herself if she did not at least attempt to speak to him before he left and she did not see him again for years.
He turned to her and his eyes widened in amazement.
“Miss Bennet,” he murmured, for she was now close enough to hear him without him having to raise his voice. “What in the world are you doing?”
Panic rose within her as she realised that even if she was capable of explaining the painful feelings that spun inside her mind, it would be absolutely improper to do so.
“I… there is… Mr. Darcy…” she stopped and stared at him. She had never before struggled to voice what was on her mind, but this was altogether different.
He walked a few paces closer, watching her all the while without saying a word. “I realised something as I walked away.”
“What was that?” Her voice sounded like more of a croak. There was a painful lump in her throat and her eyes stung from the wind and the rain. “What did you realise?”
“I realised,” he whispered, “that I could not do what I had planned.”
“You followed me on my walk today to tell me that you were leaving.”
He nodded. “That was my intention. But I could not simply turn and walk away.”
“Why?”
“Because I was not truthful with you.”
“You were not?”
“No.”
She could not wait. All of her resolve to allow him to speak first evaporated. She had to know. She could not wait any longer.
“Mr. Darcy, I must apologise to you. I was certain yester
day that you were proposing marriage out of kindness—purely to save Charles and his family from further scandal. If I was impertinent or unpleasant in any way, you must forgive me. My pride caused me to speak in a way that I now realise was not indicative of how I truly feel.”
“No, Miss Bennet. I must insist that you allow me to speak first. I have not been honest with you. I did not act on Bingley’s behalf when I intervened with Hardy. I acted on yours. Everything else I told you yesterday was the truth. I love you, Miss Bennet. I came to that conclusion before I even learnt of Hardy’s letter. Even so, I could not act on them until I had resolved the matter. The reason for my doing so was to prevent the exact misunderstanding that you leapt to yesterday.”
“Oh, Mr. Darcy. I am sorry.”
“Please do not be,” he said, looking increasingly anxious. “And now, I must declare that I cannot do what I promised. You asked me never to mention it again and I knew that I must honour your wishes no matter how difficult that proved. Of course, I soon realised I could not remain here at Radcliffe House knowing that I could never share my true feelings for you.”
“Do you still intend to leave?”
He bowed his head. “No. I fear I cannot stand by my word on this occasion. I love you, Miss Bennet. As I have said before, I have no wish to make you feel obligated to me. In fact, I fear I do not know quite how to proceed. I had thought it would be preferable to leave rather than make you feel as if you had no choice but to accept my affections without complaint. But I find I cannot leave. Not while you remain here.”
She laughed. “Mr. Darcy, I assure you. When I asked you never to mention your feelings for me I did so only because I believe you were proposing marriage out of a sense of duty to Bingley. Now that I know the truth, you shall hear no complaints from me about accepting your affections. Rather I fear it shall be the opposite; that you shall grow tired of hearing me declare my own tender feelings at the top of my voice.”
He blinked. “What are your feelings?”
“I love you beyond words.” She looked down at her feet and saw she was caked in mud up to her knees. “Why else would I have hurried after you in such a manner? I do not want you to leave.”
“I do not wish to go.”
“Then please do not.”
He frowned. “How am I to know that it is not simply gratitude that has caused you to declare your love for me?”
She shook her head. “Sir, have you ever known me to make a false utterance or claim to hold affections that are anything other than genuine?”
He considered it for a moment and sighed. “No, indeed. There were a number of times at Hardy’s table when I worried you might let your true feelings be known.”
“Indeed. So you see now. There can be no question of my love for you.”
“Nor mine for you. Do you believe me?”
She nodded—because she did believe him. She understood. At first, his involvement had been for Bingley’s sake, but now she saw everything that had gone on between them in a different light. His constant presence. She had thought it was because he doubted her ability to understand or cope with matters; now she saw it was not just concern that had made him her constant companion around the grounds of Radcliffe House. Those glances. It had not been sympathy or judgement that had compelled him to look at her in such a way, but love.
“Yes, I see it now.”
“Good.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her tenderly in a way that took her breath away. “You must never forget how much I love you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
They were married on a bright summer morning in the chapel at Meryton, where the flowers were in full bloom and what seemed like the entire village turned out to see Miss Bennet finally marry. The whole Bennet family was present, including the grandchildren. The only one who could not make it back was Lydia, who sent her apologies for being unable to leave Miss de Bourgh’s side.
Mrs. Bennet announced that news to anyone who would listen to her as they assembled in the garden at Longbourn with their guests after the ceremony. The owner of Netherfield House had offered them the use of his garden, but Elizabeth had insisted she would rather have a simple celebration in the place she had walked in so often since her childhood.
“What a shame it is,” Lady Lucas commiserated.
The relationship between the two ladies had changed somewhat. After several years of being rivals as they raced to marry off their unmarried girls, Mrs. Bennet had once again surpassed her old rival. Now Lady Lucas was the only one who had a girl unmarried—one who was past thirty, at that.
Mrs. Bennet, of course, knew nothing of what had gone on with her youngest daughter. She had been told simply that Lydia was widowed and her husband lost at sea.
“It is a shame indeed! Well, we must consider the positives. I have been told that Miss de Bourgh positively begged my daughter to come and live with her. Lydia tells me that she has become indispensable there. The girl is rather clingy and depends on her so. I imagine the children shall be very well looked after when the time comes!”
Now, as she half-listened to the conversation between her mother and her neighbour, Elizabeth wondered if they ought to have been a little more candid with Mrs. Bennet, who would surely have been a little less boastful if she knew what had really happened. She turned to her new husband.
“Perhaps we ought to have told mama something closer to the truth. I worry that Lady Lucas or some of our other neighbours will find out. Oh my dear, I wish she would not brag so; not when the truth is infinitely less rosy than she realises.”
“You must not worry,” he murmured, squeezing her hand.
She looked around. It was a perfect day surrounded by those she loved, especially Darcy. His sister had come with her children and Elizabeth had immediately taken to the younger woman and her faultlessly polite children. Yet, she could not help but feel a niggle of worry.
“I know it,” she said, kissing him and feeling her heart skip a beat as she realised that she would spend the rest of her life with this selfless, wonderful man. “But I cannot help but worry. We know Wickham’s true nature. What if he finds a way to return and seek out my sister? Lydia is relishing her new life in Kent now, but I can only assume that she will eventually tire of it and if he comes back at such a time…”
She did not know the full details of what had gone on with Wickham. All she knew was that Darcy had reached some sort of agreement with Hardy in order to secure Lydia and the children’s freedom. She had not probed her new husband on the details. The truth was she cared little about the welfare of her unscrupulous brother-in-law after what he had subjected the family to.
“He will not.”
He said it with such certainty that she wanted with all her heart to believe him. Yet, it was not enough. Darcy was so good and kind. Was it possible that he had underestimated Wickham’s capacity for badness? She stared at him, not wanting to further trouble him on his wedding day.
Darcy must have sensed her turmoil. “My dear,” he said, taking her hand and leading her away from their little group and into the rose garden.
The scent of the blooms was almost heady. Now that the Bennets had found husbands for all of their girls, they had turned their attentions to the gardens at Longbourn. The garden had always been beautiful, but now it was especially well-tended and lustrous. The whole place abounded with colour and birdsong and deep, heady scent.
“My dear.” He placed cool hands on her cheeks and stared down at her with such tenderness that she almost cried out from happiness. “You must not worry. I will do everything in my power to protect you. You must know that. You must not worry about Hardy any more than you should worry about Wickham. And the same goes for anyone who would ever even think of doing you harm. Do you understand?”
She stared up at him. There was such fierceness in his expression; such certainty in his eyes that she felt her doubts and worries slip away. She believed him. Of course she believed him—he was a man of his word
.
“And now,” he said with a smile, for he must have seen her relax and accept his assurances, “I believe it is almost time for us to have our first dance as man and wife.”
She laughed. “I cannot help but recall the first time we met. It was at a dance too, if you recall.”
“I do,” he said, as he led her back through the garden and over to the timbers that had been laid to create a makeshift floor for their guests to dance on. “Believe me, I spent many years recalling that evening and wishing that I had asked you to dance with me until neither of us had the energy to dance another set—no matter what any old matron had to say about the impropriety of it!”
She laughed. A band of local musicians had been busy setting up in the corner of the garden. Seeing the newlywed couple arrive on the floor, they struck up a lively tune. It was one Elizabeth knew well.
“Well then. We must make up for it this afternoon. And this evening.”
He took her hands and she stared into those dark eyes entranced as they began to move in time with the music.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
George Wickham was not heard from again, just as Darcy expected. As time passed, Darcy grew troubled by the fact that he had not told his wife exactly what he had done to resolve the situation. Neither of them had mentioned it. He supposed that was to do with the fact that each of them had been prepared to go to extraordinary lengths that they were not necessarily proud of.
On a cool evening in September, Darcy began to reflect on this yet again. He turned and looked at her. She was sitting beside him reading a different edition of the same book he had been reading until the moment before. It had become a habit of theirs and both of them rather enjoyed walking in the grounds and discussing their thoughts about what they had read.
He closed his book. He had not mentioned those events because he wanted to shield her, but now he worried if his silence was having the opposite effect to the one he desired. What did she think he had done? The others had simply assumed Bingley had been sent to a debtor’s prison and Hardy had had a change of heart about Lydia. Elizabeth was the only one who knew Darcy had a hand in it.
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