by Wells, Linda
“No wonder Robinson brought her on, a ruined gentleman’s daughter. That would appeal to him and his aspirations for higher circles, thumbing his nose at them, and taking on a girl who once had everything. Knowing him, he probably thinks it an act of philanthropy to take her off the streets.” Seeing Louisa’s surprise he smiled. “Granted, he may not have known her origins. Ah well, it is certainly common enough for these desperate girls of good family trying to survive on their own to sell themselves somehow.” Hurst rubbed his chin. Bingley stared and he shrugged. “My father enjoyed my governesses for years, Bingley. All were impoverished widows or spinsters, all with gentle upbringings. Mother was happy for it; she produced the legitimate heirs and was left alone.” He closed his eyes with Louisa’s look. “No, I will not follow his lead.”
“Why would she not simply go home?” Bingley asked. “Mr. Bennet says that she has family somewhere nearby, but they do not know the address. They are writing to the school, but with it being the Easter holiday, there may not be anyone available to reply. They sent a letter to the girl’s family in the country, but they are likely here in London.”
“Well, certainly the girl should be interviewed, she knows where she belongs.” Hurst took his turn with the letter. “Perhaps the Darcys will be interested in their sister’s friend.”
“A friend of Miss Lydia?” Bingley said doubtfully. “Perhaps they know this family. Simkins.” Hurst pulled the bell and they waited for a footman to arrive. “Please ask the girl Jessica to join us here.” Bingley said to the man. “I wonder what the rest of the staff thinks of her.”
“I imagine it is not too far from my opinion.” Hurst said softly.
“I imagine that her family does not want her back.” Louisa sighed and sat down. “They certainly cannot bring her back to be with her sisters. If they do take her, it will only be to marry her off to some willing man who will accept payment for the trouble.” They contemplated that reality and turned when there was a knock and the pretty, tired, and nervous young girl appeared at the door.
“Jessica Simkins?” Louisa asked.
“Yes, madam?” She said with wide eyes.
“Are you friends with Miss Lydia Bennet?” Bingley said kindly. “I noticed you reacted when I was mentioned the Bennet and Darcy names.”
Jessica’s eyes began to tear up and she nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Very well. We are going to try and get you home.” Louisa saw a mixture of fear and relief appear in the girl’s face. “What have you done, child?”
“OH YOU ARE GLOWING!” Mrs. Gardiner kissed Mary and taking her hands, looked her over carefully. “Tell me about him.”
“You have met him, Aunt.” Mary blushed. “You know all about him.”
“I know that he was falling in love with you.” Mrs. Gardiner laughed softly when Mary glanced worriedly out of the parlour door. “Oh dear, do not worry. The girls are busy with the children. Nobody will hear. What does Elizabeth have to say about this?”
“We finally had a chance to really talk this morning.” Mary looked at her hands and twisted them. “She asked if I knew my heart and mind.”
“Do you?”
“Oh Aunt, I care for him, I do so much!” She blushed at her outburst and seeing Mrs. Gardiner’s encouraging smile, she whispered, “He loves me, I think. He said as much, without saying the words. He is holding back.”
“Why?”
“Because Fitzwilliam threatened him, I think.” Mary frowned and startled with her aunt’s laughter. “Is something wrong?”
“Mary, you were not here when Mr. Darcy was courting your sister, but if any man needed to be threatened, it was he. Those two not only tested propriety, they outright ignored it.” Seeing Mary’s eyes widen she leaned forward. “They met in our back parlour to kiss, and were forever holding hands. Georgiana caught them in Mr. Darcy’s study in a tender embrace. I myself had to set time limits of five minutes to their encounters. Enough time to express sentiment, but not enough to cause irreparable damage, at least until they parted company when he had to go to Pemberley.” She said thoughtfully then returned her attention to her niece. “You see, they were incorrigible. Always touching; always connected in some way, just as they are now. Why we gave them so much leeway … Well, once they fell asleep in each other’s arms for several hours we clearly had lost the battle.”
“Sleep?” Mary gasped.
“So tell me, what has your captain done?” She smiled and tilted her head. “Hold your hand?”
“Yes, and he touched my face.” She blushed furiously. “And … I saw him without his shirt.”
“How did that happen?” Mrs. Gardiner said sharply. “You were not alone?”
“No!” She cried. “No, he was fencing with Fitzwilliam, and Lizzy and I entered the room, and there he was …” Her voice trailed off. “He was … so beautiful.”
“I daresay.” Mrs. Gardiner’s brow arched and she held back her smile. “And?”
“Lizzy pushed me out of the door.”
“Was Mr. Darcy undressed as well?”
Mary’s brow creased. “I do not remember. I just … oh the marble statues in the museum, of the Roman warriors? I … Captain de Bourgh was … so much …” She blushed.
“Yes, I gather that he was quite handsome.” Mrs. Gardiner smiled to herself. “I presume that he was clothed below the waist?”
“I suppose, it was over so soon. I never looked farther than his …” She sighed. “Oh Aunt, am I wanton?”
“No dear, but I am glad that your sister removed you quickly. Now, answer me this. If the good captain were to offer you a proposal of marriage, would you accept? Or would you prefer more time to meet other men and decide if he is the one?”
“If he were to propose, I … I think that I would … I know that I would say yes.” Mary put her hand to her mouth. “Oh dear!”
“Do you love him, Mary?”
“So very much!” She smiled and tears appeared in her eyes. “Oh Aunt, can it be true? Can he love me?”
“Well, he is a fool if he does not.” Mrs. Gardiner kissed her cheek. “When your sister returns from her errand, I will remind her of her courtship, and the leeway that was granted to her and Mr. Darcy. When will you meet again?”
“Tomorrow.” Mary sighed. “So long to wait!”
“YOU REALLY COULD HAVE LEFT this at the house, Lizzy.” Mr. Gardiner smiled and set down the letter from Darcy. “But I appreciate the effort.”
“Oh it was no trouble.” She sat down across from him and looked out onto the busy warehouse. “I wanted to do a little shopping while I was in the area.”
“Is that so?” He chuckled. “Fabric, perhaps?”
“How do you know?” Her eyes widened and he laughed louder. “Uncle!”
“My dear girl, your ability to keep a secret is impossible.” He leaned forward. “You are with child, as well?” Elizabeth gasped. “Congratulations, my dear. Darcy must be thrilled, or is he allowing his nerves to overtake his delight?”
“We are not entirely sure yet, it is far too soon, but if it is true … oh Uncle, Fitzwilliam is so happy!” She laughed and sniffed, and began searching her reticule for a handkerchief, looking up with a smile when Mr. Gardiner pressed one into her hands. “I think that I will need to order a great many of these if I am like I was with Rosa.”
“Always in tears?” He stood and kissed her cheek. “Well, I am in no doubt, my dear. I hope that your good husband remains delighted and that all will be well for your child and family.”
“What gave me away?” Elizabeth dabbed at her eyes.
“Oh, I have a little experience in this area.” He sat on the edge of his desk. “Now, tell me about this fabric you suddenly need.”
“Tell me how you knew that I was interested.”
“A man by the name of Martin stopped me about two weeks ago; he had made inquiries after Darcy, and was delighted to learn of our connection.”
“He was asking after the estate.”
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“Indeed.”
“Any other inquires?”
“Naturally.”
“And you told him what of Mr. Bingley?”
“That he was an outstanding man and that I would not give out his address willy nilly.”
“Especially to an anxious father wishing to make amends for some misunderstood remark.”
“Misunderstood?”
“I daresay.” Elizabeth smiled and he nodded. “Poor Mr. Bingley.”
“Poor Miss Martin.” Mr. Gardiner winked. “I understand that she rather liked our good friend.”
“He is so good.” She smiled. “And so unsure.”
“Will you visit the shop?” Mr. Gardiner offered his arm when she stood. “Three doors down.”
“You approve of the family?”
“I do, Lizzy.” He kissed her cheek and saw her to the door. “No false hopes, now. And no matchmaking.”
“I will take a page from Mr. Bingley’s behaviour with me.” She laughed and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Uncle.”
“You are very welcome, dear.” He watched her leave and saw her passing by the window, then enter August Martin. “There is no stopping her.”
“MAY I HELP YOU?” The young man approached Elizabeth. “We have some beautiful new fabrics, madam, they have only just arrived.” He turned to some bolts to show her his goods.
“Do you have anything from the Bingley Mills?”
“Bingley?” The man smiled. “Why yes, of course, we carry a very fine selection. Cottons, then? You must be planning some gowns for the warmer weather? Or perhaps some shirts for your husband?”
“Yes, I was thinking of my husband.” She followed him to look at some fabric and looked around the room. Abbey was behind the curtain in the workroom, there to visit her father, and startled when she heard Elizabeth’s voice.
“Mrs. Darcy?” She asked cautiously, stepping out from behind the curtain.
“Miss Martin!” Elizabeth smiled warmly. “How good to see you again, I hope that you are well?”
“Yes, madam, I am.” She relaxed a little. “I hope that you and your family are as well?”
“Oh yes. Mr. Darcy is quite fine, as are my sister and friends, the Hursts and Mr. Bingley.” She watched and saw the small intake of breath with the mention of Bingley’s name. “I was just looking at some fabric from his mills.” She turned to the bolts stacked along the wall. Abbey looked to the clerk and to his great surprise she silently sent him from the room. Adjusting her posture, she tried to play the unfamiliar role of shopkeeper’s assistant. Elizabeth admired Abbey’s efforts to continue their conversation and decided to humour the undignified position she had chosen. “He mentioned that he had stopped in here last month and that he was pleased to see that your father was so persuasive in his promotion of the product. He had warm things to say of him.”
“He did?” Abbey stared. “He was, pardon me, Mrs. Darcy, he said these things after his visit here?”
“Yes.” She said brightly and turned to feel the fabrics. “He said something of there being a misunderstanding of some sort and feeling absolutely terrible afterwards, but he is such a shy man, he did not quite know how to apologize.”
“Shy?” Abbey whispered, remembering every moment with him.
“Well, perhaps that is not the best word, he is enthusiastic at times, sometimes a little too much, I suppose. When he likes someone he just … oh, glows with his excitement.” She shook her head. “I am afraid that he does draw out my wit, and not always to my best advantage, but I claim the excuse of having grown up with sisters and never having a brother to tease.” Smiling, she looked at Abbey. “Have you brothers?”
“No, only a sister.”
“There, so you understand my feelings. An older brother would have been wonderful to tease over his loves, and a younger one would have been wonderful to tease as he was fussed over by all of his sisters. Alas, we had none.” Elizabeth picked up a bolt and Abbey hurriedly took it from her. “Six yards, please.”
“Oh, yes.” Carrying it over to the cutting table, she searched for some shears. “So, Mr. Bingley is always friendly and … enthusiastic?”
“Always, well, unless he is embarrassed. Then like all men, he snaps a bit.” She shrugged. “I remember my husband’s friends teasing him about his terrible riding skills when he visited Pemberley, and of course he was red-faced and defensive. He got over it soon enough and asked for help, and is much-improved. We are very happy to be helping him now.”
“With his riding?”
“No, with his future plans.” She smiled and accepted the package of fabric. “He is determined to do well this autumn when he leases … Oh yes, he mentioned it when you met, he is leasing Netherfield this autumn.”
“Yes, I had forgotten that.” Abbey said quietly and distractedly accepted the coins from Elizabeth’s hand. “He will likely be attached by then, such a kind man is sure to be scooped up this Season.”
“Hmm.” Elizabeth closed up her bag. “I would have thought so, but he seems inclined to take his time with that. As much as I wish him to be happy and settled, I cannot help but admire his desire to bide his time.” She smiled at Abbey. “My husband did the same, and I am grateful that we both waited.”
“You and Mr. Darcy seem to be very happy together.” Abbey smiled and walked with her to the door.
“We are, Miss Martin.” Elizabeth nodded. “Our path was long, but so worth it in the end. I fell in love with him and never looked at another, and that was when I was fifteen.” She saw Abbey’s mouth open. “Have a pleasant day, Miss Martin!” Leaving the shop with a wave, she climbed up into her waiting carriage, and returned to Gracechurch Street. “There, no matchmaking. I just set the record straight.” She looked out of the window. “I do not know that they will meet again, but I do not want anyone thinking that I ever loved anyone but Fitzwilliam.” Her hand rested on her belly. “Only you.”
“NO, I DO NOT KNOW the family.” Darcy stood and walked around his study. “Has she said her address?”
“Yes, but she is terrified to return there alone. We thought that since she was a friend of Miss Lydia …” Bingley sighed. “Darcy, it would look better to have her returned through someone with some sort of a connection to her, would it not?”
“I have no connection to foolish, ruined, children.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temple. “I wish that Elizabeth were here. And the other girls, they may actually have heard of her. If Robinson is unwilling to do anything, then Hurst certainly can. I realize that you cannot do so, an unmarried man returning a ruined girl …” He looked across the room to his friend and sighed. “What if the family rejects her? Am I to be responsible for her? I cannot send her back to the streets. Why is this left at my feet?” He glared at his friend. “Just once I would like to come to London without a drama occurring.”
“Forgive me, Darcy. I could think of no better man to approach for help.” Bingley said very sincerely.
Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damn.”
“Darcy?”
“Where is she?”
“At Hurst’s townhouse.”
“And her address?” He said tiredly.
“Tavistock Square.” Bingley offered.
“Bloomsbury.” Darcy sighed. “Practically next to the school.” He walked to the window and stared out across the street to the welcoming green of Hyde Park, and fought his desire to start walking and return to their bench. Suddenly their stroll of the morning seemed like a fond memory.
“Darcy?”
Glancing behind him he saw the miniatures on his desk, and focussed on Georgiana, remembering how he and Elizabeth feared that she might have been starting down a wrong path that they had caught just in time. Perhaps this girl Jessica was the same. His eyes turned to Elizabeth’s image. “When my wife returns, Bingley, we will go. I will not do this without her.”
Chapter 5
Darcy kissed Elizabeth’s hand and held it tightly. The couple l
eaned into each other as the carriage travelled the short distance to the Hurst home. Elizabeth wished to speak to Jessica before they continued on to Tavistock Square. “Miss Simkins was fortunate to attract your brother’s eye. At least he gave her shelter.”
“Yes.” Bingley nodded. “I cannot fault him for offering her employment, he had no hand in her ruin, although I believe that his …” He looked down at his hands. “Never mind.”
“He may have entertained uglier intentions.” Elizabeth murmured.
“You know of such things?” Darcy said quietly.
“With servants? With husbands? Of course.” She looked at their entwined hands and smiled sadly. “A whole world of conversation opens when one is a married woman. Some subjects are less appealing than others.”
“I would hope that we can eliminate those particular acquaintances from your visiting.” Darcy said stiffly.
“I cannot close my eyes to what happens in so many homes, dear. We are unique in so many ways.” She smiled softly and he brushed her fingers with his thumb. “This is not your responsibility, Fitzwilliam, but I cannot help but think that this may easily have been our family.”
“That disturbing thought has been in my mind since Bingley brought this to our doorstep. That is why I have agreed to be involved now.”
“I think that you cannot help yourself but to try and be of aid.” Elizabeth touched his face and he kissed her fingers again before tucking her hand under his arm.
“You think too well of me.” He murmured.
“Think what you like, dear.” She smiled and looked past his bowed head to see Bingley watching them. “And you are very good as well, Mr. Bingley. You knew the right course and acted on it.” He nodded his thanks and seeing that they were approaching his brother’s home, sat up a little.
“There seems to be a visitor.”