Please, please, I beg you to come home. I need desperately to talk to you. I know it is much to ask of you, but if you come home, I am certain Mr. Bingley will reopen Netherfield.
Please come home, I long to embrace you, it seems such a long time since we have been able to talk freely.
Your ever-loving
Lizzy
Perhaps even now, Jane was on her way. For that, and for the chance to walk in the countryside, Elizabeth could tolerate her mother and sisters’ behaviour. And Mr. Darcy had never been here. At Cheapside, in her aunt and uncle’s home, and at the warehouse, she’d see him around every corner, everywhere she looked. And she must not. She was prepared to give him up, if it was for the best, and she must banish him from her mind, or she wouldn’t be able to find peace.
But her mind was disobedient. As she walked through the woods, he seemed to walk beside her, the warm support of his arm under her hand, and his gaze warm and respectful. She shivered, she ought to push thoughts of him away, but her traitorous mind decided this moment wouldn’t matter.
“Well, Mr. Darcy,” she addressed the figment of her imagination. “How did you find my mother this morning?”
I’m sorry your mother does not seem to appreciate your many fine qualities, Elizabeth. But I ardently admire and love you, as I believe you know.
She shivered. No, she must put him from her mind. Unless he chose to come here, she could do nothing.
You may always ask your uncle to give me a message. He seemed amused. I’m sure I will understand whatever secret code you provide him.
She smiled. “I must leave you, Mr. Darcy. Or I will not find this walk as tranquil as I hoped.”
She glanced round before breaking into a run. The further she went, the better she might sleep that night.
“Jane!” Elizabeth ran out to meet her uncle’s coach as it turned into the driveway, and drew up by the door.
“Lizzy!” Her mother’s shriek from the door drew her back.
“Yes, Mama?”
“I must talk to dear Jane first. We have to discuss Mr. Bingley and what has been happening. I’m sure there will be more news than in her last letter.” Mama was waving the scrap of lace that was her handkerchief, and threw herself at her eldest daughter.
“Jane! Jane! Jane! Whatever has been happening? And you ought not to have left London while Mr. Bingley is there. You might lose him if he finds someone else. You need to be careful, my dear.”
Jane suffered their mother’s embrace, but over the top of her head, gave Elizabeth a calm and gentle smile.
“Mama, everything is well, and I will tell you all my news. But first, I will refresh myself from the journey.” Jane glanced over at Elizabeth, who quietly moved round to the back of the house and hurried upstairs to Jane’s chamber.
When her sister arrived, still untying her bonnet ribbons, Elizabeth bounced to her feet.
“Tell me the news, Jane, tell me.”
“Why, Lizzy, what news are you talking about?” Jane blushed.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I could see the moment you stepped out of the coach that something had happened. If Mama had not been so busy with her nerves, she would have seen it, too. Now, tell me everything.”
Jane hung her hat on the back of the door. “I knew I could not escape your notice, Lizzy. But I don’t want to say anything to anyone else. Not yet.”
“Why ever not?” Elizabeth frowned slightly. “Is Mr. Bingley returning to Netherfield?”
Jane turned and embraced her sister. “I know you will not tell anyone else, so I can say that, yes, he is.” She loosed her grip and stepped back, searching her expression. “Lizzy, he is calling on Papa later this afternoon!”
Elizabeth stepped forward again and hugged Jane fiercely. “Oh, I’m so happy for you, he’s the most perfect gentleman you could ever have won!”
Jane sat down suddenly. “Oh, Lizzy, are you sure you don’t mind? I have been anxious my happiness will harm your own peace of mind.” She pulled her down to sit beside her. “And I haven’t heard anything of the terrible time you must have had. Why didn’t Mr. Stoke — I mean, Mr. Darcy, bring you home? I was so sure he was going to make you an offer, too.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Your news is wonderful, and it’ll never hurt me, dearest Jane. And I do want to talk about what happened to me — I’ve not been able to talk to anyone yet. But today is all about you. It is such wonderful news.” She smiled mischievously. “I will watch with interest to see how soon it is until Mama discovers it. You are not good at keeping a secret.”
“Jane! Jane! Where are you?” Their mother’s voice shrieked up the stairs and Jane jumped up.
“I must go down to her, Lizzy. Perhaps we can take a turn in the garden this afternoon, and catch up on all that’s happened.”
Elizabeth followed her sister downstairs, but turned into the garden. Not for anything would she spoil Jane’s happiness by being the recipient of her mother’s caustic remarks and malicious comments.
She smiled as she brushed her hand over the tall flowers alongside the path. It was good to see Jane, and perhaps she’d be able to talk to her soon. No other one of her family had shown any interest in what had happened to her. Even Papa hadn’t asked whether she had recovered from her ordeal. Perhaps Uncle Gardiner hadn’t made the incident seem very worrying.
But Jane would listen and reassure her that she’d done the right thing. It would help, and perhaps her nightmares would begin to become less disturbing.
She smiled. If Mama discovered that Elizabeth could be sponsored by a duchess for the next season, she might even look at her properly.
Perhaps she might ask her uncle to give a message to Mr. Darcy. She ought not to have left so precipitately. Perhaps he needed her, and she’d not thought carefully enough.
Don’t be anxious, Miss Elizabeth. His voice in her imagination showed the same care and admiration she remembered from when he was plain Mr. Stoke. Her sense of calm returned. She needed him as much as he seemed to need her.
62
The coach drew up outside the post inn. Darcy climbed out at the same moment as Mr. Reed jumped down from his seat beside the coachman.
His calm presence was a comfort to Darcy as he looked round Bishopstoke. It had been a long time, but it didn’t look as if much had changed. He supposed the vicarage would be down the lane where the church steeple could be seen through the trees. But he had no idea where the apothecary resided — or even if he still lived here.
“I will obtain the private parlour for you, Mr. Darcy.” Reed spoke quietly. “While you refresh yourself, I will discover the whereabouts of those you wish to speak to.”
Darcy nodded, and turned to thank the coachman, who touched his hat before driving round to the stable yard. He smiled thinly, in those early years, he’d have been running to take the horses, to ensure they were cooled down, fed and watered. He knew about cleaning the harnesses, grooming, mucking out the stables. But he doubted people here would recognise the boy he had been. Particularly as he hadn’t worked here, leaving the place as far behind him as he could.
The landlord brought him a whisky with flattering attention and a curious glance, and Darcy stood by the window, waiting for Reed to return. He was able to see him crossing the green in company with an older man carrying a battered bag. As they got closer, he was able to recognise the apothecary. He smiled thinly, wondering what excuse Reed had used to bring him here.
“Come in!” he called at the knock on the parlour door, and the door opened.
“The apothecary, sir.” Mr. Reed had perhaps told him the traveller needed medical attention.
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Reed. Ask the landlord to bring tea, please. I remember Mr. Owen takes it strong, with added sugar.”
The older man looked up in shock. “William!” He strode forward. “I had thought a strange gentleman wished for my expertise.”
Darcy shook his hand. “And perhaps I do. I have come all the way from Derbyshire
to consult you.”
Mr. Owen shook his head, looking dazed. “I am delighted at the opportunity to see how well you are, sir. It seems you have found your birthright at last.”
Darcy grimaced. “Please, call me Darcy. Or William.” He stopped and waited as the landlady brought in a tray of tea, and curtsied clumsily.
Darcy smiled at her. “Thank you.” She blushed and hurried away.
Mr. Owen smiled. “I always knew you would have the ladies around you, William. Even if you had not found fortune.” He settled in his chair. “But let me hear all your news. I have been happy to receive your letters, and watched your progress with admiration. The last time you wrote, you were about to start a business venture with your mentor.” He reached for his tea. “Since it was a number of months ago, I imagine you’ve been busy.”
Darcy nodded. “I would like to tell you, if you can spare the time. But first, might I hear a little of how you are, and the others who assisted me?”
It was a long visit, and the landlady provided lunch for them as Darcy talked and talked. He remembered that, even back in his youth, Mr. Owen had been a good listener and offered wise advice.
As the afternoon wore on, the two left the inn, and strolled along by the mill pond. The apothecary leaned on the rail. “I understand why you felt such a sense of danger, but it’s good to know it is no longer present.” He glanced over him. “I think it must have been the one thing which caused you such discomposure that you have found it difficult to accept who you really are.”
Darcy nodded, and gazed at the still water. “I still feel I am William Stoke, and am an imposter as Fitzwilliam Darcy, heir to Pemberley, despite all the evidence to the contrary.”
Mr. Owen didn’t look at him. “Now you are with people you knew in your past, do you find yourself remembering little things? Knowing the appearance of someone, a familiar view, some things like that?”
Darcy nodded. “It troubles me somewhat, as if William Stoke wasn’t real.” He sighed. “With the discovery of fortune, it seems to me I have wasted my time in attempting to gain security.”
“I do understand what you’re saying,” Owen said. “But I think ultimately it will help you believe you have the right name at last. The thing to do is to acknowledge Stoke as part of Darcy.”
He met his gaze. “Do you think you would have been able to take your place as Darcy, be prepared to be master of such a great estate, even save your sister and Miss Bennet from a terrible ordeal — could you have done all that as a common stable boy? No.” He shook his head.
“All the work and preparation you have done — it equipped you to take your place in society. It will be important not to forget Mr. Stoke, and not forget how you lived.” He pushed away from the rail and turned to stroll on.
Darcy followed him silently. He needed to hear this, needed to remember it.
“I think it is good you are considering matrimony to a lady from your time as Stoke. There will be no need for any secrets between you — and you have said she is understanding, and liked you as both Stoke and Darcy.”
“I think she preferred me as Stoke,” Darcy said gloomily.
“I’m not surprised,” Owen laughed. “Life would be simpler, especially given what you have recently experienced. But you — understandably — have a great desire to be secure; so secure as to be able to control your life. I think, now your security is settled, you will be better as Darcy — with this lady by your side.”
Darcy nodded. “The duchess was able to make me feel a little better that Elizabeth will not refuse me out of hand. And by offering to sponsor her, it makes her more suitable in the eyes of my family.” He scowled. “I would not have them despise her.”
The apothecary laughed. “I cannot imagine you would let such an insult go without comment, Darcy. I would request, though, that you permit me to write back to you sometimes. It has been difficult not to be able to reply to your letters, although I understand the unease which led you to keep secrets.”
“I accept it wholeheartedly, Mr. Owen, and I’ll be pleased to maintain our association. A letter sent to Darcy House will always be sent on to me, if I am not in London. Use my initial, too, or my father might be given it.”
“Good. Now, would you like me to take you to the vicarage? Mrs. Pedder will be delighted to see you, as will Mr. Monson.”
“Thank you.” Darcy followed him along the lane towards the vicarage. As soon as he was finished here, he would go to London. Elizabeth would receive him, even though the stipulated six months was not remotely passed. He smiled, the thought of her warmed him.
Mr. Owen accompanied him back to the post inn an hour later, Darcy still finding much to talk about. Reed had gone ahead to ready the coach, and Darcy was impatient to get back to London. He might be fortunate enough to reach London in time to call on Elizabeth late tomorrow. It seemed to have been a long time.
He stopped beside the coach for a final word with the apothecary, and watched idly as another coach rolled into the yard. But as the grooms caught at the bridles, a stray breeze lifted the mane of the front horse, and a misshaped patch of white showed against the dark bay.
“Wait!” Darcy had called out before he knew quite what he’d said, his memory sliding back nearly seven years to the Swan Inn, and the horse with the kindly eyes.
Every eye in the yard swivelled to him, but Darcy barely noticed. He strode to the other coach and the horse in harness at the fore. “Hello again, old fellow.”
The passage of years showed. The bay coat was lightly speckled with grey hairs and his muzzle was grey. But he pushed his nose into Darcy’s hand, and nickered softly. Darcy swallowed the lump in his throat. Perhaps he could save one.
“Good afternoon, sir. Perhaps we might be introduced? And you might tell me what interests you in this horse.” A gentleman had stepped down from the coach. He deferred to Darcy, who smiled slightly.
“I’m sorry if I discomposed you, sir. I am Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Pemberley in Derbyshire.” For the first time, he knew pride in his name, and the ability it gave him to do good.
The other bowed. “Thomas Locke, of Proasfield in Devonshire.” The man looked curious. “I hope the last post stop didn’t furnish me with a horse they had no right to?”
Darcy bowed. “Not at all, Mr. Locke. It would have been my first question, whether this was a post horse or your own.” He smiled. “I am delighted to find him again, and will be able to discover who I may purchase him from.”
He managed to disentangle himself from their curiosity, and followed the other’s coach round to the stable yard, to the evident alarm of the groom.
Mr. Owen and Mr. Reed were with him, and the head groom hurried forward. “Is there something amiss, sir?” He looked highly discomfited.
Darcy nodded at him. “Not at all. This post horse, though. You are to hire him out to me, and rest him for now in your largest loose box, if you have one.”
Mr. Reed laughed. “I imagine I am to find out his ownership, Mr. Darcy, and ride him back to London for you.”
Darcy grimaced. “It’s over seventy miles, and he’s an old horse now. It will take a week, and I may have need of you.” He cast a dissatisfied look around the yard. Could he trust a strange groom to care for the animal properly?
“If I may interrupt, William, my nephew is very good with horses — in fact, he has the same feeling of responsibility toward them as you do — and I am sure he’d be willing to undertake the journey to get the horse home to you.” Mr. Owen was smiling. “I think you’ve done the right thing.”
63
Elizabeth sat in the gardens of Longbourn with her book while Jane and Mr. Bingley wandered along the paths. Even though they were now engaged and had a little more freedom to be private, it allowed Elizabeth to sit outside, away from her mother’s noisy excitement.
She smiled at the page; at least Mama’s happiness meant she was less inclined to criticise her, although Elizabeth was very careful not to say anything that
might be taken offence at.
But it had been wonderful to be able to have long conversations with Jane, who was the best of listeners. Even though she was preparing for her marriage, she was the same loving sister that she’d always been. Elizabeth wondered when Jane might be going to London to arrange for her wedding clothes. Perhaps Elizabeth could go with her. She smiled at her book; she didn’t wish to go if Mama was going too, though.
She sighed. When Mr. Darcy came to find her, he’d probably change his mind and depart very quickly when he saw her mother and sisters.
“Lizzy?” Jane’s voice was close to her. “What distresses you so much?”
Elizabeth jumped to her feet. “Nothing at all, Jane. With your marriage fast approaching, I have no qualms whatsoever that your happiness is assured.” She smiled at Mr. Bingley, who beamed back at her.
“I’m happy you’re pleased for us, Miss Elizabeth.” His expression turned serious. “But Miss Bennet has been telling me of your ordeal — and of Mr. Darcy’s sister. I am very sorry to hear of it. Is ...” He hesitated. “Is is possible you know how Darcy is? — if you feel able to tell me, of course.”
Elizabeth smiled, remembering his contribution to Mr. Darcy’s business, and the last time they’d met together at the warehouse. She knew Mr. Darcy trusted him, and, now he was to be her brother, knew she needed to begin to trust him herself.
“Perhaps we could sit down,” she suggested politely. Once they were all seated, she smiled at Jane.
“I expect you’ve told Mr. Bingley about everything that has happened? I think there may be little more to tell.” She pleated her skirt between her fingers, hoping Jane hadn’t told him absolutely everything.
She turned to him. “I don’t want to repeat what you already know, sir, but, suffice it to say that when Mr. Darcy’s father and uncle arrived in Carlisle, I felt it was probably better to leave. I have been concerned it was hard for him to try to begin to accept his family while I was still there, being someone from his past. It would make it difficult, because he would want to show me that he was not too proud now to associate with me, and yet not discompose his relations by seeming to turn away from the sort of people they are.”
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