Mrs. Reynolds promptly sent off a servant for the required items, then asked, “Is there a problem, miss?”
Elizabeth debated the suitability of telling her, then, recollecting the obvious affection between the two, elected frankness. “Mr. Darcy burned his hands today, and I believe that oil of lavender will be beneficial to his burns.”
The housekeeper’s respect for the young lady increased as she noted that Miss Bennet was not only was concerned about the master, but knew her remedies as well. “Will you be requiring bandages as well, then?”
Elizabeth paused. “It would be a good idea, if he accepts them.”
A brief smile crossed Mrs. Reynolds’ face. “Just a moment, miss. Let me see what I can find.” She returned several minutes later, followed by a girl with a basin, towels, and strips of clean linen. Leading the way to a small room near the dining-parlor, she laid out the supplies, and asked conversationally, “May I ask, miss, how you convinced him to accept this? He is usually reluctant to be cared for.”
Elizabeth hid a smile without complete success. “I did not offer him a choice.”
With a shrewd look, the housekeeper said, “Then perhaps you should bring him here; he may listen better to you than to me.”
Accepting this directive, Elizabeth returned to him and quietly asked, “Mr. Darcy, would you be so kind as to accompany me for a moment?”
Looking somewhat displeased, especially since they seemed to have garnered the attention of the others, he replied, “I do not believe it necessary, Miss Bennet.”
Her eyes narrowed. Leaning toward him, she whispered in his ear, “If you do not cooperate, sir, I shall be forced to take desperate action.”
A slight smile crossed his lips. “And what would that entail, Miss Bennet?”
“I am sorry to resort to vile threats, but if you do not join me, I will tell your sister what you have done to your hands,” she whispered.
“That is blackmail!”
“I am glad to see that you do not underestimate me, sir!”
He sighed deeply. “Very well, Miss Bennet, I am at your command.” He followed her to the prepared room. His eyes narrowed as he took in the presence of Mrs. Reynolds, but obediently complied with her instructions to seat himself and hold out his hands.
“Oh, Master William,” the housekeeper said reproachfully as she surveyed the damage, and shook her head disapprovingly. “We shall need to clean those off before anything else. I cannot believe that Wilkins let you out like this without a word to me!”
Elizabeth had to press her hand against her mouth to hide a smile at this interaction and at the distinctly sulky look on Darcy’s face at that moment. “There is no need for all this,” he insisted. “Miss Bennet’s concern is touching, but this is hardly serious.”
“Miss Bennet has twice the sense you do, Mr. Darcy!” Mrs. Reynolds said tartly. “Now, hold still while I clean them. However did you do that?” She pointed to a line of raw flesh across his fingers.
“Bucket line,” he said succinctly. “I have altogether the wrong sort of calluses.”
Seeing the obvious flash of pain cross his face as the process was begun, Elizabeth, thinking that he might like some privacy, said, “Perhaps I should rejoin the others now.”
He looked up at her. “Oh, no, Miss Bennet. You forced me into this; you will have to stay to comfort me.” He grimaced at a particularly painful sensation.
“I fear Mr. Darcy has never been the best patient,” Mrs. Reynolds said in a soothing voice.
“I am hardly surprised. I have noticed he prefers to take care of others, rather than of himself,” Elizabeth teased, hoping to distract him from his discomfort.
Mrs. Reynolds glanced at her shrewdly, noting the looks that she and Darcy were exchanging, and it occurred to her that perhaps there were other things Wilkins had failed to report to her. She smiled to herself as she applied the remedies, then pulled out the bandages.
“No bandages,” Darcy said definitely, pulling his hands away.
“Sir, they need bandaging. This hand, at the very least,” Mrs. Reynolds argued.
Elizabeth rested her hand lightly on his shoulder for a moment. He looked up at her and sighed, seeing the determined look in her eye. “Very well. But just this hand,” he said resignedly. “Do you plan to always be this insistent, Miss Bennet?”
She gave the matter a moment’s consideration. “Yes, I do,” she said with certainty. “Do you plan to always be this recalcitrant, Mr. Darcy?”
“You may count on it, madam!” he retorted.
“Well,” she said with a playful smile, “I am glad that we understand one other, then.”
Darcy looked back at Mrs. Reynolds in time to catch a broad smile on her face as she tied off the bandage. “You need not agree with her so easily, you know, Mrs. Reynolds. You are supposed to be on my side, after all!”
“Not to worry, sir; I can tell already that Miss Bennet and I will get along very well indeed,” the housekeeper said significantly. “Now, we should change those tomorrow. I shall speak to Wilkins about it, and I shall give him some laudanum for you as well; you may need it tonight to sleep.”
“That will not be necessary,” he stated firmly.
“Nonetheless, he will have it if you need it,” Mrs. Reynolds said as she gathered her supplies.
Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm, but as they departed, he did not turn toward the dining-parlor, and instead led her into his study. For a moment Elizabeth worried that he was angry with her for her insistence, but as he caught her to him, she realized that he had a different agenda in mind. She went into his embrace with a sigh of heartfelt relief, leaning her head against his chest, comforted by the sound of his heart beating. This was what she had needed all day.
“Are you well, my love?” he asked gently, kissing her hair. She nodded, not calm enough for words. He added, “I must apologize again for leaving you today; I would have much preferred to spend it by your side. I hope it has not been too difficult?”
“Now that you are here, all is well.”
“And before?” he asked perceptively.
She shrugged, and evaded his question. “I missed you.”
Her words were sufficiently sweet to Darcy’s ears to cause him to overlook any other meanings to her response. “I missed you as well,” he said warmly, “and I worried about you.” When she made no response, he added, “I plan to speak to your uncle tonight, if you have no objection. I apologize that my plans in that regard were delayed.”
She looked up at him with a smile. “I understand some things are unavoidable.”
He held up his bandaged hand. “I can see that there are going to be an increasing number of unavoidable things in my life!” he said with rueful good humor.
“I am glad you recognized its inevitability. You were very well-behaved about it,” she said in as grave a manner as she could manage.
He looked down at her with a teasing smile. “Well, Miss Bennet, I was quite cooperative; now I believe that I deserve to be distracted from my pain.”
“There are any number of excellent books that I can recommend to you, sir,” she said playfully, “or perhaps I could ask your sister to play for you.”
“That was not precisely what I had in mind.”
“I thought you wanted me to avoid encouraging you.”
His smile was devastating. “How much trouble can I cause when I cannot use my hands?”
“True enough.” With a mischievous smile, she took his arm with the unbandaged hand carefully by the wrist. Lifting it to her face, she brushed the back of his hand lightly against her cheek, then began tormenting him by covering it with feather-light kisses from the line of his sleeve to his uninjured fingertips, to which she gave a little extra attention. “Is that better?” she asked impishly.
“Much more effective than laudanum,” he responded in a somewhat strangled voice. He bent to kiss her, but she ducked away from him, standing on her toes to touch his neck with her lips, teasing him as h
e had so effectively done to her in the past.
“Elizabeth, please…”
Taking pity on him, she pulled his head down to hers and allowed him to claim her lips. His kiss was passionate, but it also seemed somehow distracted. She pulled back and looked up at him, a concerned look on her face. “I can tell that something is the matter, but not what it may be.”
He gathered her to him somewhat clumsily, avoiding the use of his hands, and buried his face in her hair. He was silent for a moment, then said heavily, “It was a difficult day, and parts of it have stayed in my mind.”
“Will you not tell me about it?”
He sighed. “Come sit with me, then.” He settled himself in a large armchair, and opened his arms to her, and with a slight blush, she sat on his lap and leaned her head against his shoulder. “It was dreadful, naturally,” he began. “The family lost everything they owned, and there was so little that I could do to help them. They were devastated, and…” His voice trailed off.
“And what?” she asked softly.
“Are you certain that you wish to hear this? It is not pretty, I must warn you.”
“If you had to see it, then I want to hear about it.”
“Their two youngest children were still in the house,” he said, his voice tired and strained. “We could not reach them until the flames were mostly doused; their father’s leg was crushed when he tried to go in too soon. Thank heaven there was no wind! I found one of them when we finally went in—that was when I did this.” He opened his hands. “There was nothing that could be done; he had hardly been touched by the fire, but the smoke must have been enough. I carried his body out to his parents.” He paused. “I did not know him, but I remember when he was born; it was shortly after I took over managing the estate.”
She felt a wrenching sensation as he first spoke, realizing that he had placed himself in danger, and then her feelings shifted to sympathy for his pain. She held him close, knowing that there was nothing she could say, but wanting to comfort him. He permitted her to stroke his hair for a minute, then turned his head to kiss her hand absently. “I know that it is foolish, but I feel as if somehow I ought to have been able to prevent it,” he said, his tone closer to his usual one.
“That is foolish,” she said gently, “but I understand that you might feel that way. Is there anything that can be done for them now?”
“I believe that it is all in hand. They are staying with family, and I had some clothes and other necessities sent down to them. Some of the other tenants will work their fields until they can manage again. I have told them that we will rebuild, but that will take time—there will be enough work just clearing the site. There is little else that can be done at present. I will ask Georgiana to call on the family tomorrow.”
“If you wish, I can accompany her.”
“She would appreciate that, I know; she finds these duties somewhat uncomfortable. It is kind of you to offer.”
“It will be my responsibility soon enough.”
He glanced at her in surprise. “So it will be,” he said slowly. “I had not thought of it that way.” Oddly, he had given little thought to the idea of Elizabeth as Mistress of Pemberley, and he felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of having to share her attention.
“I see that you have some doubts about that; I know that I am inexperienced, but I will learn, and I am not afraid to ask questions.”
“Now you are the one jumping to conclusions. I have no doubts about your ability; I was merely contemplating the sad fact that I will not be the sole focus of your attention. I am a very selfish soul, you know.”
She kissed him affectionately. “You are the one I love; responsibility for Pemberley simply happens to come with you.”
He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Do you have any idea how much it means to hear you say that you love me?”
“You may hear it any time you wish,” she said lightly, again finding discussing her feelings for him to be difficult. “But do you suppose that the others are still waiting for us to begin dinner?”
“Let them wait,” Darcy said, sounding every inch the high-handed Master of Pemberley she had once thought him. “I have had to do without you all day, and I need a little time to hold you and tell you how ardently I love you before I have to return to calling you ‘Miss Bennet’ and keeping my hands to myself.”
Elizabeth had no desire to object to this idea, and settled herself comfortably in his arms. A thought occurred to her. “William,” she said.
“Yes, my love?”
“I would like to point out that while I have considerately remained composed during our discourse, I do have strenuous objections to you taking risks such as walking into burning buildings.”
“Dearest, I appreciate your concern, but I also have responsibilities that sometimes you will not like,” he said tenderly.
“You also have responsibilities to me now, and someday to our children, and they include keeping yourself safe,” she said firmly. “I would like you to think for just a minute how you would feel if I were putting myself in that sort of danger.”
Darcy, who had his own worries about the dangers Elizabeth faced that were unfortunately triggered by her choice of words, tightened his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. “Your point is taken,” he said, his voice muffled, seeing images of his mother’s near-fatal illness after Georgiana’s birth, and her death five years later along with her newborn son.
Elizabeth felt his tension, and without fully understanding its source, said, “Perhaps that was a poor example; I am forgetting that you are far better at the art of worrying than I am. But you are too dear to me to risk, so please take care.”
“I shall,” he said, deliberately putting aside the images of the past. “You may count on the fact that I want to be with you.” Unwilling to continue in this vein, he changed the subject definitively by capturing her mouth with a kiss with an eloquence spoke of his love for her, and it was some time before either of them gave further consideration to anything besides the other.
* * *
They eventually did rejoin the rest of the party for dinner, where Darcy was required to recount some of the day’s events when his bandaged hand was noted. Georgiana, who was acquainted with the family from various estate events, was much concerned by the news, and relieved that Elizabeth would accompany her on her call to the family.
Once the ladies had withdrawn after dinner, Darcy poured out generous helpings of port for himself and Mr. Gardiner. It had been a very long day, and this was not an interview he was anticipating with any sort of pleasure.
“Mr. Gardiner,” he began, “I am glad we have a few minutes here, as there is a matter I would like to discuss with you. It would be better if I could broach it with Mr. Bennet, but in his absence, I believe you to be the appropriate person to whom to address this.”
“Well, this sounds serious! I shall be happy to help however I may.”
Darcy swirled the port in his glass, and watched it as if fascinated. “As you know, Miss Bennet and I did not have an opportunity to discuss a wedding date before we left Longbourn. We have been considering the matter, and have come to the conclusion that we would like to marry as soon as possible.”
“Well, I certainly see no problem if you wish to have the wedding as soon as we return to Longbourn. I daresay that Mrs. Bennet can manage most of the arrangements, although she may be disappointed by the lack of frills!”
“In fact, sir, when I said as soon as possible, what I meant was immediately, or at least, as soon as I can obtain a license. I would propose that I ride to Matlock tomorrow; if the bishop is in residence, I should be able to arrange it quickly. Otherwise I will have to send to London, which would delay matters by a few days.” He looked up wearing his calmest demeanor to meet Mr. Gardiner’s puzzled gaze.
Mr. Gardiner took a sip of port. “Why the hurry, Mr. Darcy?”
“I spent quite some time today trying to devise answers t
o that question, ranging from why we would want the ceremony to be at Pemberley to the strength of my devotion to your niece, but the facts of the matter are these: something happened last night that should not have, and I am anxious to regularize matters as soon as may be.”
Darcy’s anxiety rose as there was no immediate answer from Mr. Gardiner. Finally he said, “I suppose that you realize, Mr. Darcy, that you are fortunate to be confessing this to me rather than to Lizzy’s father.”
“I have no doubt of that, sir,” Darcy said carefully. “I also doubt there is anything that you can say to me on the subject that I have not already said to myself.”
“So I would imagine.” Mr. Gardiner had already drawn his own conclusions regarding Darcy’s sense of responsibility. “Well, you have my consent, for what that is worth; it sounds like the most reasonable course under the circumstances. Do you plan to write to Mr. Bennet, or to present this as a fait accompli?”
Darcy grimaced. “Frankly, sir, between telling him to his face and giving him weeks to become more angry with me before I face him, I would choose the former.”
Mr. Gardiner laughed. “I suspect that is wise of you. I shall try to put in a good word for you there, and point out that you at least deserve credit for your honesty. I must say I am beginning to feel some trepidation for when my own children reach this age!”
“I fear it can begin much earlier than this,” Darcy said, thinking of Georgiana at Ramsgate.
“I hesitate to imagine. Perhaps we should join the ladies, then, as it seems we will have much to discuss,” said Mr. Gardiner, which sentiment Darcy heartily endorsed.
* * *
The ladies took the intelligence of the wedding plans in good grace when Darcy and Mr. Gardiner rejoined them; Georgiana was delighted that she would have her new sister so much sooner than expected, and Mrs. Gardiner, having had ample opportunity to observe the attraction between the young couple, thought only that they were most eager to marry. Elizabeth said little beyond concurring with the plans.
Darcy was beginning to feel decidedly on edge. He was weary in mind and body from the events of the day, but it was his conduct of the previous night that was troubling him most. Since being back in the comfort of his home and away from other distractions, he was growing increasingly disturbed as he considered what he had done. During the day he had used the danger and horror of the fire to shield himself with limited success; feelings of shame and self-loathing kept intruding. He was not unaware that part of the reason he was the first into the burning cottage was to prove to himself that even if he had been untrustworthy, uncaring, and self-seeking the night before, he could at least still manage to be brave and responsible. But even that was a cowardly act. He had without question violated almost every principle by which he lived his life for a purely selfish and unworthy motive, without a thought as to how it would affect anyone else. He could not even make the excuse of having been out of control; no, he knew very well that there had been a moment when he made an active decision to proceed with seducing Elizabeth. True, he had not been in the clearest frame of mind at the time, and his desire for her had been such as to cloud his thinking, but that was no excuse. He had behaved despicably. Elizabeth might be inclined to forgive him, but he was nowhere near forgiving himself. She had always been generous with her forgiveness of his faults, a fact that he appreciated, since he had been in need of it so often, but even Mr. Gardiner had let him off without the tongue-lashing he so richly deserved. He felt oddly grateful for the pain in his hands. He ought to suffer in some fashion, and without that discomfort, he would feel even worse.
To Conquer Mr. Darcy Page 19