"I realize your master, Mr. Darcy, must not be home, ma'am. My name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and I was an acquaintance of Mr. Darcy during his visit in Hertfordshire." At this, Elizabeth's courage began to decline. The housekeeper continued to stare sharply, uttering nary a word to encourage Elizabeth.
Elizabeth glanced at the book in her hands, feeling immense sadness at the thought she would never find comfort there again. She lifted the leather-bound volume to draw the housekeeper's attention to her burden, then held it out. "He lent me this book for a while. It brought me much joy, I wanted to ensure it was returned to its proper home."
The housekeeper accepted the book and began to connect her master's melancholy with a word the young lady had uttered.
"Hertfordshire, you said? You are from Hertfordshire?"
Elizabeth appeared bewildered that the housekeeper would be interested in her home county. "Yes, my father owns an estate there. Please, could you make sure the book is returned to Mr. Darcy?"
Working on intuition alone, Mrs. Potter made the extraordinary gesture of inviting this young woman into the home, expressly against her Master's orders to turn away all visitors.
"You've come all this way. I’m certain Mr. Darcy would be quite upset if we did not offer you refreshment, you know." Mrs. Potter shooed the girl inside before Elizabeth knew what was happening.
The entryway to Darcy house was grander than any home in London, Elizabeth was certain of that fact. The pristine floors shone as she gazed down upon them, and the judicious use of marble on the stairs, and in various statues made her stifle a small giggle. She knew Mr. Darcy was wealthy, but this was a small palace!
"Truly, I have not come from so terribly far, Mrs.–?"
"Mrs. Potter, dear. Come. Let me show you to the morning parlor and fetch my master."
Elizabeth's eyes widened in fear, she had reconciled herself to Mr. Darcy's absence. On hearing that he was in this same house, she felt the last bit of courage leave her heart. "I really should go. He's not expecting me. I cannot impose, you see."
Mrs. Potter smiled at the girl and handed the book back to her.
"I may lose my position over this, but something tells me you must be the one to personally return this book to Mr. Darcy. Please remain here, and make yourself comfortable." Mrs. Potter bustled out of the room and closed the double doors. Motioning for a young footman named Jack, she instructed him to stand sentry and not let the girl leave for any reason until Mr. Darcy arrived. Jack stared at Mrs. Potter in confusion, but he agreed.
Hurrying up the stairs much faster than her age normally dictated, Catherine Potter hunted down her Master's man, Simmons. Out of breath when she at last found the valet working in the dressing room, she waved her hands frantically, and the stalwart military man had no choice but to cross to the doorway.
"She's here; she's here, by my honor. It has to be her!"
"Who?"
"The woman you told me about, Elizabeth Bennet. Elizabeth Bennet, she's here downstairs to return a book."
Simmons, while usually a man of the most serious nature, experienced an expression he rarely allowed. He broke into a wide grin and told the housekeeper to attend the lady, and he would bring their master at once.
Using the door connecting the dressing room to the bedroom, Simmons began to pull the drapes open, allowing the sunlight to spill into the room.
Mr. Darcy groaned from his bed. He was a man who appeared a ghost of his old self from nights of drinking and days of little food. "Simmons! If this is your idea of a jest, I am not amused."
"Sir, you have a visitor. I'm here to help you dress as quickly as you are able. "
"No visitors! I've made myself perfectly clear. Whomever it is, send them away." Darcy rolled over into his pillows, covering his face with their fabric to avoid the sun's harsh glare.
The covers of the bed were stripped away, and Darcy felt the chill of the room around him. Sitting up in his bed and grabbing his head, for the quick movement exasperated his headache, he growled, "Simmons! I'll have your job for this."
John Simmons stood at the foot of his master's bed and glared at him much like Darcy's father would on the few nights that Fitzwilliam Darcy had imbibed too much. "Her name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and she has come all this way to return a book."
Darcy nearly jumped from the bed, stumbling around in confusion as his physical stamina suffered over his weeks of mistreatment. He began barking orders, and though Simmons thought it comical, the valet remained indifferent to his master's antics. There was no time for a bath, but Mr. Darcy was shaved, dressed and doused in as much cologne as Simmons allowed. He exited his bedroom to walk downstairs.
He reached the top of the stairs as Mrs. Potter was arguing with Miss Elizabeth, who was trying to leave. Though Elizabeth remained polite, he saw the housekeeper was not winning the battle. He stared, fixed in place, as Elizabeth's hands reached the door, and though arrested by the sight of her beauty, he managed to call out.
"Elizabeth."
The silky call of her name by his voice brought her up short in her escape. She gazed up the stairs at him. She did not move as he descended the stairs and came directly to stand before her.
"I apologize for making you wait, but I would quite like a few moments of your time. I think there is much we may discuss?"
Silent for a moment, Elizabeth searched his face. It was different from what she remembered, thinner, less healthy. But his eyes, his gentle brown eyes were the same. Accepting his arm, she began to follow his lead to the morning parlor where two trays of refreshments had just arrived.
"It is I who should apologize, sir, for arriving without notice. I had only to simply return your book by post or perhaps leave it with Charles to return when next you visited. I understand taking so much trouble to return it myself is rather ridiculous." Elizabeth began to breathe shallowly as she knew her actions might give license to a rich man like Mr. Darcy, but her intentions were far from wanton. The leers of the hackney driver made sense as she now understood he thought her a lady of loose morals.
"I am happy we are neither of us performers for society's demands. How is your family in Hertfordshire?"
Elizabeth startled as such an easy question now represented an acute pain in her heart. She muttered some noncommittal phrases and began to speak of Jane.
The two continued an easy conversation of pleasantries until Elizabeth noted the late hour. If she did not return soon, her aunt and uncle would most certainly miss her. As much as her heart ached at leaving Mr. Darcy's presence, she had no choice but to announce it was time to take her leave. The announcement brought an agitation to Mr. Darcy, which surprised Elizabeth.
"Of course. I'll call my carriage and drive you to. . ..” Mr. Darcy waited for Elizabeth to answer with her London address, and she recalled Miss Bingley's constant barbs about her relatives in trade. The afternoon with Mr. Darcy had gone so well, Elizabeth did not wish to ruin their visit by reminding him of her station in life.
"That won't be necessary, sir, I shall hire a chaise to return home."
"I cannot possibly send a gentlewoman alone in a hired carriage across London. It simply is not done," Mr. Darcy reasoned.
Elizabeth smiled. "What happened to your joy that neither of us played to society's demands, sir? Is it only when it's in your favor, or do you support all reasonable actions that may flout society's strictures?"
Darcy smiled. He had missed the sparkling wit of Miss Elizabeth Bennet most acutely. Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he agreed that the lady had bested him. Still, a sudden fear that he might not see her again gripped his heart.
"Miss Elizabeth, it is my greatest wish we might continue our acquaintance while you are in London, if it is amenable to you? When might we meet again?"
Elizabeth searched his words carefully for any declaration of himself and sadly realized he had offered none. Momentarily saddened, she reasoned that although Mr. Darcy may not desire the same outcome as she d
id for their happiness, there was nothing wrong with enjoying his amiable company. If, and when, their acquaintance came to the breach, she already turned down one man's wedding proposal. It could not be so difficult to tell a man she held no desire to become his mistress.
"I believe the weather shall be fine again tomorrow. Would a stroll in Hyde Park at three o'clock be acceptable?"
Darcy wondered at the thoughts in Elizabeth's head as he watched her expression subtly change numerous times before she responded. She readily agreed to a stroll in Hyde Park the following afternoon, and took great care in walking to the door. As a footman had hailed a chaise for his lady, Darcy could not reconcile the odd feeling in sending her off in such a manner. Just before she entered the carriage, he made a perceptible squeeze of her hand and locked eyes with the woman who tormented him in his dreams.
"Until tomorrow, Miss Elizabeth."
Chapter Forty
Darcy's carriage arrived in front of Hyde Park exactly one hour before the agreed upon time of their meeting. Running his staff ragged as he changed clothes no fewer than three times, finally selecting a hunter green waistcoat with his favorite black coat, he strangled the poor bouquet of flowers he had Mrs. Potter fetch from the market. He wanted red roses, but with it being winter, the selection was less than ideal, so he held a bouquet of pale pink and red roses instead. Every few moments he fretted with the arrangement, trying to improve its appearance.
Furtively he peered out the window facing onto the park, searching for any sign of Elizabeth's arrival. Each time his search proved fruitless, he cursed himself for not insisting upon learning where she was staying. In fact, he found it peculiar she would be so vague about the details. One of her sisters in Hertfordshire had said that she was gone, never to return, and the other had yelled at the first one for speaking such. Had Elizabeth fallen victim to some scandal in Hertfordshire while he was away?
The numerous questions flooding his mind gave Darcy a headache. His attentions had been conscripted by the debacle in his own household, causing him to miss a number of obviously very vital few weeks in his beloved's life.
Beloved. The word sprang to his mind with such ease, Darcy resolved at this meeting he would declare his intentions to his Elizabeth however she wished. He worked through these thoughts three times more before he was rewarded with the appearance of another hackney-chaise and Miss Elizabeth descending from the carriage wearing a pale pink cloak over her gown and a matching muff.
Mr. Darcy alighted from his carriage and hurried to pay the driver before Elizabeth might.
"Mr. Darcy, that was unnecessary," Elizabeth said, nervous from the connotations implied to yet another nameless driver of hired carriages with regard to her reputation.
"Forgive me, but it is not in my nature to allow ladies of my acquaintance to suffer in my presence. I believe that includes their purse."
Elizabeth covered her mouth to giggle at Mr. Darcy's tease. Her eyes fell upon the bouquet of flowers in the man's hand, and her breath caught in her throat.
"Are those for me?" Elizabeth's mind flitted back to the precious couple at the inn who had exchanged one flower, and here she was to receive an entire bouquet of roses in January! They certainly were most expensive to procure.
Darcy glanced at the flowers, at once feeling the gesture completely inadequate to represent his emotions. He gazed at Elizabeth and seeing her face lit up with joy, he lost his self-consciousness and happily handed the bouquet to his lady.
"A token of my affection, if I may be so bold as to say, Miss Elizabeth."
The words were the music of the grandest symphony performing in London to Elizabeth's ears, but that niggling thought of what Mr. Darcy expected of their acquaintance still needled her. They began to make the circuit around the famous Hyde Park that was nearly deserted, given the cold weather and unfashionable hour.
Elizabeth complimented the grounds keeping and sights, and Mr. Darcy happily concurred. He did not wish to tell her it was a delight to have someone so unfamiliar with London experience it for the first time. As they reached an area of shrubbery that had been carved into delightful animal forms, Elizabeth's joy bubbled over. Darcy laughed and laughed as she mimicked some of the noises the animals made, and he joined in by gallantly impersonating an elephant.
Elizabeth doubled over in laughter at Mr. Darcy's silliness. Seeing his Elizabeth enjoy such easy company, Darcy was overcome with emotion, and he approached her, bringing their persons much too close.
As Elizabeth stood there inhaling the woodsy scent from Mr. Darcy's chest, she gazed up at him and realized the moment she had feared had come. Steeling herself to lose this man forever, she found her voice.
"Mr. Darcy, I fear you may have expectations that I cannot fulfill."
He took a step back and glanced at her askance. "Are you promised to another?"
The forwardness of such a question would ordinarily receive a tease, but for once Elizabeth Bennet knew this was no time for humor. "No, sir."
"Then I am unable to understand what you mean, Miss Elizabeth. I ask you to speak plainly, ma'am, as I've experienced a great deal of misunderstanding in the last few months that has wreaked havoc on my personal life."
Elizabeth began to walk again, and Darcy took long strides to remain next to her. Her feet moved rapidly as she desperately feared whatever she said next would ruin such a perfect day. "I cannot become your mistress, sir."
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy halted. Stunned into silence at such a bold statement, he worked hard to regulate his immediate flush of anger.
Losing her companion a few steps behind her, Elizabeth slowed and turned around. The expression on his face pierced her heart, and she began to tear up, though she wished most fervently not to cry.
"I believe it's time we say our goodbyes, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth curtsied, nodded and began to walk away.
"A moment of your time, madam," Fitzwilliam Darcy said in his Master of Pemberley voice.
Frightened, Elizabeth stopped and turned around yet again. It was the least she could do since she had sought the man out and now told him she would not live up to the expectations her behavior had suggested.
"Precisely when did I give you the impression I wanted you to become my mistress? And precisely when did I make you think I would be such a man to have a mistress?"
A sudden wave of regret washed over Elizabeth's heart. She never thought her words might insult him! That he was angry, she could see without fail. All she could do was apologize.
"I am so terribly sorry; I made a grave mistake."
Fitzwilliam gazed upon her with forgiveness in his eyes. He had not considered she might misinterpret his gift and suggestion they meet again in the park. After all, he allowed her to conceal her living situation, and he hardly asked any questions. What if it was not relatives she was staying with? Darcy realized now was the time he and Elizabeth had a candid exchange.
"I believe I would not be remiss to say that a great deal has occurred in our lives since we last saw each other in Hertfordshire, am I correct?"
Elizabeth nodded.
"Then I propose this. Come with me to Darcy House. We shall sit down and discuss our situations with the honesty and respect our friendship deserves."
Elizabeth bit her lower lip and glanced at his carriage. She was still uncertain about her behavior. She so desired the freedom of a woman not bound by the strictures of society, but the realization of such behavior left her exposed, without protection.
Sensing her hesitation, Darcy approached her once more. Gently lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the top of it over her gloves. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet, there is no other woman in the world I respect or esteem more. It is my ardent wish to one day ask you to become Mrs. Darcy."
Elizabeth drew in her breath, elated but then confused as she realized he had not actually proposed. "One day?"
"Come with me and I will explain all. My family has many demands upon me, and at the moment my life is not my own to free
ly give."
The pain etched in the fine lines around Mr. Darcy's eyes convinced Elizabeth this man needed her. She agreed to retire to Darcy House with him, prepared to learn exactly why it was he could not offer for her hand in marriage.
Chapter Forty-One
After Darcy related the details of pretending to be engaged to his cousin, Anne, who was in love with his cousin Richard, Elizabeth laughed and informed him that he was living a Shakespearean comedy.
Darcy had not thought of it so, but she was right. She was even more correct than she knew, for he had skillfully withheld the information about Wickham's heredity or even that his sister had run away with the steward's son. He was confident Elizabeth would not shun him as society was likely to do, but he still could not quite bring himself to take that risk.
As the afternoon disappeared with the sun's retiring for the day, Elizabeth remarked that she really must be getting back to her relatives.
"Miss Elizabeth, forgive me for being so forward . . .."
Elizabeth smiled. "I think, Mr. Darcy, we can likely dispense with the apologies for forwardness. I think we both have gone far beyond what would be considered an acceptable level of forwardness to constantly need reassurances that we have not offended the other."
Darcy nodded and lifted his drink to show he approved of her idea. "Nonetheless, I must ask, are you in some kind of trouble?"
Elizabeth’s voice took on a nervous tremor. "No, sir. I wonder why you ask?"
"It's just that you refer to your living accommodations vaguely as your relatives, and I was afraid that perhaps you were ashamed of having fallen on hard times."
Elizabeth sighed. She had no desire to rehash her family's struggles with Mr. Darcy and lose her countenance in front of him a second time. She instead reasoned a small piece of truth would go a long way in satisfying his concerns. "My relatives are my aunt and uncle in trade. I did not wish to tell you for fear you would think, as Miss Bingley does, that I am unworthy of your acquaintance because of my connections."
By Consequence of Marriage (A Pride & Prejudice Novel) Page 18