by Jennifer Joy
A deep sigh escaped her. "He had books about everything which tickled his fancy. Philosophy, poetry, botany, even novels… I had hoped to secure one of his books to keep in memory of him. He always wrote notes in the margins and underlined the words he most enjoyed."
"A reasonable request. I take it that you were unable to secure a book before they were sold?"
Her silence answered the question as clearly as a direct answer.
"I see. You do not know who bought them?" he persisted.
"No. That was the purpose of my walk into the village to see my uncle. I meant to ask him who bought the books. I know it was a fruitless mission. I would have all of the books returned to Longbourn so that I could see them some day. Now, I do not know where the books are and have no hope of ever seeing them again."
It was the perfect opportunity to ask her opinion of his letter— or if Mrs. Bennet had bothered to share it. However, Mr. Phillips had assured him that his letter had been delivered discreetly. He would simply have to trust him. Miss Elizabeth needed comfort more than he needed reassurance.
"It is painful to part with something of great value, but it is also difficult to be surrounded by things which constantly remind you of your loss.”
“I am sorry you have suffered.”
He looked back to see her head bowed, her soft brown hair caressing her face in the breeze.
Though it had all happened years ago, he recalled the emotions as if it were yesterday. Time had softened them, but he remembered. “When my mother died, my father had a difficult time of it. We felt her presence in every room of the house and it pained us greatly to be reminded of her at every turn. Of course, with the passing of time, sentiments dull no matter how much you hold onto the grief. It is both a blessing and a curse to let go. There is some satisfaction in holding on to it, but living in the past does not bode well for a promising future."
She was quiet for so long, he looked over his shoulder. She looked as if she had been struck. Had he said too much? Blast it all! He ought to have kept his mouth shut. What made him think he could help her? Why did he even bother?
"Thank you." She spoke softly, putting an end to his self-rebukes.
She sniffed and the horse pricked his ears up and bobbed his head up and down when she shifted her weight in the saddle. “Enough melancholy conversation, Mr. Darcy. Let us talk about happier things. You mentioned a pony?”
Darcy groaned. The story was humiliating, but it was his mistake to have mentioned it at all. Diving in before he could change his mind, he said, "I trust you will share my secret with no one." He looked back to see Miss Elizabeth's curious face regarding him with an impish smile.
"I was desperate to see my little sister, Georgiana, smile again after our father had passed away. After some months of moping, I invited her out for a ride. She had a lovely pony which was suffering from neglect, and I hoped that she would find comfort in taking care of it. But as determined as I was to see Georgiana happy, she was equally determined to continue in her misery.” Nearing the embarrassing part, he took a deep breath to continue.
“I did what any brother would do in my circumstances. I lured her outside. My blood stallion stood saddled and ready next to her pony. When she refused to mount, I…” This was more difficult than he had thought.
“You what?” asked Miss Elizabeth, leaning forward in the saddle. The corner of her lip curled up into the promise of a smile.
Thus encouraged, Darcy continued, “I hopped onto her pony. She was so pleased to have someone to ride her, she took off at a run across the field. It was all I could do to stay astride in Georgiana’s sidesaddle. It was… jolting.”
He could have cut his pony ride short, but his little sister had made the most glorious sounds, so he endured until she lost her breath from laughing so much— the same glorious sounds which now emanated from Miss Elizabeth.
She did try to hold back, but when he grinned back at her, her delicacy of manners gave way to peals of laughter which washed away any shame he felt at telling the story just as Georgie’s smile had when he rode her pony.
The jingling of mirth gave way to the jingle of chains and the clomping of nearing hooves. A carriage approached.
“Oh dear,” Miss Elizabeth said, noticing the carriage as Darcy led the horse to the side of the road.
Chapter 8
Maybe the people in the carriage would take no note of her. Anyone living in, near, or within a day's walking distance of Meryton knew her aversion to horses. They would conjure up all sorts of unflattering explanations for her to be sitting on a horse led by a single gentleman. Not that the real explanation was entirely satisfactory either…
Now that they were so near Longbourn, she had held high hopes that she would go completely unseen.
“Whatever happens, Mr. Darcy, my mother must never know how you helped me.”
He looked hurt. “Do you intend to hop all the way to your door? Miss Bennet, your mother may not wish to see me, but I cannot leave you like this.”
Of course, none of that mattered if the people in the coach blabbed to Mother. She had planned to have Mr. Darcy leave her— no matter how much he would protest— on the gravel path leading to the house. It was partially hidden by the corner of the barn. She would have hobbled to the door, or hopped the distance on one foot if necessary, but she had no intention of her mother seeing her arrive with Mr. Darcy. Mother would draw all of the wrong conclusions and she would lose Mr. Darcy’s friendship.
“It would only complicate matters if my mother were to see you, and I would rather not cause you any unnecessary trouble.”
He closed his eyes and leaned his head down. In a low voice, he said, “Let us see what happens with the carriage before we make any plans. It could be that your worry is for naught.”
The carriage drew nearer, and she did her best to appear as if nothing were untoward. She was participating in an activity which was enjoyed by young ladies all over England. Of course, she had not heard of any who required a gentleman to lead their horse for them, but that was beside the point.
"Lizzy!" a masculine voice called out from behind her, making her cringe before awareness dawned.
"Could it be?" She turned as far as she dared without falling off the side of the horse.
"Lizzy!" called a feminine voice. Elizabeth was certain now.
"Thank goodness," she said under her breath for the benefit of Mr. Darcy, who looked every bit as nervous as she had felt before recognizing the familiar calls of her relatives.
The carriage stopped next to them and Mr. Darcy led the horse back to the path. The door opened and Uncle Gardiner stepped out. Aunt Gardiner peeked out of the door, her body leaning out into the open space.
"Uncle Gardiner! Aunt Gardiner! How glad I am to see you! Are you on your way to Longbourn? I did not know to expect you."
It puzzled her to see the look her aunt and uncle exchanged.
"Why, Lizzy, we came today as agreed upon with Fanny... excuse me, Mrs. Bennet...," he said, acknowledging Mr. Darcy.
"Pardon my manners. Please let me introduce you to Mr. Darcy." After introductions, she offered a brief explanation, "I took a fall in the road and twisted my ankle. Mr. Darcy has been so kind as to assist me home."
That brought understanding nods from her relatives, although the quizzical looks remained.
"Your mother did not tell you that we would arrive today to convey you and Jane to London?" asked Uncle Gardiner.
Elizabeth went numb, and she rubbed her fingers together to warm them. They felt like ice.
"No. We only received a letter from you this morning. I did not open it since it was addressed to Mother. We are to leave Longbourn today?" She looked around her. Could it be that she would be forced to leave her home so soon? "Mother said that we would leave before the end of the month, but I had no idea that she had arranged for us to leave so soon."
Uncle shook his head, his shoulders slumped. "I knew we should have written to you as well
, Lizzy. I am sorry. Your mother has been busy making plans and arrangements and, knowing my sister as I do, I feel confident in implying that she simply forgot to communicate her plans to you."
Mother had made arrangements without her? What of all the people she had written to about the possibility of renting a cottage? Both shocked that Mother had taken the initiative and hurt that she had done so apart from Elizabeth's knowledge, she gaped speechlessly at Uncle.
"Come, Lizzy, let us take you home to London with us. I have missed you dearly and your little cousins have missed Jane. They eagerly await our return on the morrow." Aunt Gardiner spoke in a friendly tone.
Under any other circumstance, Elizabeth would be thrilled to leave with them. However, this was different. This time, when she left, she had no guarantee that she could ever come back. It felt like such a great step to take. Like a commitment she was unprepared for and was being forced to make.
Unprepared to give an answer at that moment, she addressed Mr. Darcy, who stood patiently holding the head of his horse.
"Mr. Darcy, I thank you for seeing me this far. I think it best for all concerned if my uncle saw me the rest of the way home. The fewer times we have to explain the happenings of this afternoon, the better." She smiled, hoping that he would not insist on seeing her home or ask any questions.
"Of course, Miss Bennet. Mr. Gardiner, can you please help her down and between both of us, we can assist her into the carriage? Take care of her right ankle. It is badly sprained."
Elizabeth watched for any sign that he regretted the interruption to their time together, but he revealed nothing. Really, it was for the best. Had she not been scheming how to arrive at Longbourn without Mother seeing Mr. Darcy? She ought to be pleased.
Uncle reached up to help her slide down the side of the horse. His effort was not executed nearly so smoothly as Mr. Darcy’s had been when he lifted her onto the saddle as if she weighed no more than a feather. Stabbing pain shot up her leg as her foot touched the ground. Mr. Darcy reached out to take her side opposite Uncle Gardiner and between the two men, she hopped to the carriage.
Getting into the carriage was another ordeal entirely, but between her relatives and Mr. Darcy, she was finally able to sit with her injured ankle propped up on the seat in front of her.
Mr. Darcy and Uncle had a brief exchange, and all too soon, Elizabeth found herself traveling the short distance remaining to her home. She looked out of the window to see if Mr. Darcy was in view. She had enjoyed his conversation. She would miss seeing him.
Mrs. Bennet had read his letter and she did not wish to see him. It was as he suspected, but he had held out some hope that she might forgive him. However, by all appearances, Miss Elizabeth thought no worse of him. She was too honest to hide it, and why should she? He had wronged her father abominably. He could only conclude that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was a far better person than he, and he would do everything in his power to deserve her good opinion.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out Mr. Gardiner's card to look at his address. Gracechurch Street, London. Darcy did not have any acquaintances in that part of town. Perhaps it was time to widen out in his friendships. After all, Bingley was a man of trade, and he had proved himself to be a good and loyal friend over the years.
Patting the stable horse on the neck, he mounted to return to Netherfield Park. He looked back at the road just as the coach disappeared from view. It was for the best that the Gardiners had shown up when they had. He was beginning to like Miss Elizabeth. Very much. She spoke freely and he could tell what her mood was at a glance. Her honesty drew him in as surely as Miss Bingley’s coquetries repelled him.
Drawing nearer to Netherfield Park, Darcy braced himself for another encounter with Miss Bingley. It was a pity to see a lady disposed toward a strong character weaken herself out of a desire to exalt herself in the eyes of others or flatter them. She ought not give importance to the opinions of others. Darcy certainly did not care for what others thought of him. He was fairly certain that Miss Elizabeth did not either. For one so young and inexperienced in the world, she spoke her opinions freely. Darcy’s doubts of her forgiveness diminished. If she held him responsible for her father’s death, she never would have spoken so openly with him. She would not have allowed him to help her— no matter how badly she was in need. She was too honest to act duplicitously.
As the grass turned to gravel, Darcy tightened his hold on the reins, slowing his horse from a canter to a walk. A stable boy immediately came out to take the horse away.
"Mr. Darcy, is your horse well?" the boy asked, confusion across his face.
"It was time for him to be clipped and shod. Instead of waiting, I decided to borrow this horse until the farrier could finish his work. Would you see that he gets an apple before the groom returns him to the stables in Meryton?" Except for his ticklish ribs, the horse had behaved gently with Miss Elizabeth on his back. Such behavior deserved a reward.
"Aye, sir." The boy scrambled off with the horse trotting behind him in search of a treat.
The front doors to the house were wide open, causing Darcy to pause at the bottom of the stairs.
In the entrance hall, he counted three trunks stacked on top of each other. Miss Bingley's maid scurried down the stairs, her arms full. Miss Bingley's penetrating voice trailed after her. "I have one more thing for you, Maria. I will not leave anything behind."
An inquiry to the butler as to Bingley's location led him upstairs where he found his friend standing in the middle of his room. Bingley's valet packed a travel trunk. "Shall I pack all of your things, sir?" he asked.
Bingley tugged at his hair and paced the room. "What am I to do with her? She will be the death of me and she is twice my age!"
When he saw Darcy, he trudged over to the doorway where Darcy stood.
"She has done it this time, Darcy! This time Aunt Lavinia really has done it!"
Chapter 9
Darcy braced himself against the frame of the door and crossed his arms. Nothing would surprise him where Lady Lavinia Rutledge was involved.
Bingley paced and gesticulated wildly. "I received a message from Colonel Fitzwilliam only an hour ago.”
Darcy stood at attention. “Richard? I do hope he has not involved himself in one of her schemes.” Richard had a soft spot for Lady Rutledge, as she did for him.
“Thank goodness he was there to control the damage my reckless aunt could have caused. As it is, no charges will be pressed, but I must return to London this evening. Father put me in charge of keeping an eye on her while he and Mother are away. I had no idea how much of a bother it would be." He ran his fingers through his hair. “I never should have left London, but she behaved well long enough that I let my guard down.”
Darcy walked in and took a seat in a chair just inside the room. He motioned for Bingley to join him. "Fretting will not help you. You must calm yourself and think with a level head. Obviously, your parents believed you capable of keeping Lady Rutledge safe from harm or else they would not have entrusted you with such a duty." While uttering the words, Darcy was secretly relieved he had not been charged with such an insurmountable task. He had thought when he heard of Mr. and Mrs. Bingley's departure to the New World to seek out partners in trade that they were going for the express purpose of escaping from Mr. Bingley's eldest sister.
“It is not Aunt’s safety which gives me concern, but rather the safety of others who cross her path!”
Biting the insides of his cheeks to keep from smiling, Darcy asked, "What has she done now?"
Bingley fidgeted in his chair, bouncing first one knee up and down, then switching to the other between pulls of hair. "The real question is: What has she not done? I left her in good faith based on her reasonable conduct over the past few months, and now I worry that I shall not be able to depart from London again until Mother and Father's return... whenever that may be! I had expected them home by now." He leaned forward, elbows propped up on his knees, and massaged his tem
ples.
"I doubt that your aunt sees the need for someone to watch over her constantly. She is, after all, a widow of means."
"That is part of the problem. Aunt has too much money and idle time.”
Darcy could not keep himself from saying, “A most dangerous combination,” with a grin.
Bingley ignored his jest. “I had hoped that with the passing of the years, she would settle, but that does not seem to be the case with her. She would sooner die in a carriage accident than peacefully of a ripe, good age in her own home."
Darcy sat up. "Is that what happened? Did she suffer an accident?"
Bingley pinched the back of his neck. When he lifted his head, he nodded. "That is precisely what happened."
"She is not harmed, I hope?" asked Darcy. He held Lady Rutledge in high esteem and would hate for her to suffer harm.
"No. She is well. The officer she ran down, on the other hand, had to be taken to the doctor."
Darcy had to lift his jaw to keep it from gaping. Of all her schemes, this was the worst he had heard of to date.
Bingley continued, "Fortunately for her, Colonel Fitzwilliam came upon the scene and was able to keep the damage to a minimum. He took charge and saw that the officer, who happened to be one of the men under his charge, was properly seen to."
Darcy shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "What happened?" This seemed far-fetched, even for Lady Rutledge.
"Aunt took her phaeton for a drive. She decided to go too fast and, with her vision not being what it once was, she ran over an officer who was walking arm-in-arm with a young lady along the path. The young lady escaped harm, but the officer's foot did not. I do not know the extent of the damage done, but Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed to be in high humor as he wrote the message, and that gives me reason to hope that he is not too badly injured."
That sounded like Richard. “Richard does appreciate the humor in any given situation. Did he request that you return at your earliest convenience?"