by Wells, Linda
“Papa!” Elizabeth cried when she saw her father staring up at the townhouse apprehensively.
As soon as the carriage stopped, Darcy opened the door before the footman had a chance to perform his duty. “Mr. Bennet!” He called as he stepped out and turned to offer his hand to Elizabeth. She climbed down and walked up to her clearly relieved father.
“What brings you here of all places?” She asked and kissed his cheek. “Does this have something to do with Miss Simkins?”
“You know?” He said with surprise and then spotting Bingley, he nodded. “Of course Mr. Bingley, you would go to the Darcys after you learned of the connection, slight as it is, to our family.” He looked at Darcy. “You are again proving your tolerance for those who do not deserve it, sir.”
“Perhaps we should continue this conversation indoors.” Darcy suggested and looked at Bingley. He jumped and led the way inside, asking the man at the door to alert his brother and sister of their guests, and led them into a drawing room upstairs. When the introductions had been completed and everyone was seated, Elizabeth turned to her father.
“We have all read your letter to Mr. Robinson.”
“I just came from that address. I was told that Miss Simkins had been removed from there to your home.” He bowed his head towards the Hursts. “It was a great surprise to me, but as I had come this far, I decided to continue, just to be sure that … that I need not do anything else.” He noted Elizabeth’s surprise and looked to his hands. “Yes, Daughter, I feel your shock that anything would move me from my comfortable chair, I imagine that reading my letter to Mr. Robinson was enough to cause you apoplexy.”
“Perhaps not that much shock, Papa.” Elizabeth said gently.
“You are too kind.” He glanced at her then saw Darcy’s steady gaze. “Lydia returned home and was bearing this letter.” He handed it to Darcy who read it, his face becoming grimmer with each new sentence. “Yes, it is horrific. Lydia shared it with Jane, who brought it to us. We … It was clearly a cry for rescue, although Lydia only saw it as a warning. I am afraid that she does not quite understand my sudden journey here for a girl who is not my own, particularly now when she understands how I and her mother failed her, failed all of you girls.” He looked at Elizabeth then stood and began to pace. “As you know, I, with Lucas’ aid, wrote to Jessica’s family, the school, and to Robinson, but … I realized that even if the girl’s father did learn of her location, he may no longer be inclined to take her back or help her. I thought that I could … I do not know, but the thought occurred to me that this could easily have been Lydia’s fate.” He turned to face the room full of people. “I am all too aware of how close she came to following this girl out of the window. She would have gone; I am sure of it. That is a testament to my failure.”
“Do you hope to regain Lydia’s respect by helping her friend?” Elizabeth asked.
“I never had her respect, dear.” He smiled sadly. “But I have been trying to do better. Call it another step to redemption.”
Darcy handed Elizabeth the letter and warned her. “It is ugly, love.” She nodded and began to read. Expecting tears, Darcy had his handkerchief ready. He was not prepared for fury.
“Stupid!” Elizabeth declared. Her whole body shook. “Stupid, stupid girl! Yes, she cries out for help now, now that she feels the consequences of her actions, but how many people tried to help her? Even her parents, who indulged her whims and follies, had the sense to at least put her in a school that might help. And what does she do? She thumbs her nose at them all, actively courts her ruin by flaunting herself before these men, and nearly drags our sister down with her!” Elizabeth stood and began to pace.
“Lizzy, you are unkind.” Mr. Bennet chastised her.
“Papa, by her own admission she did not truly feel regret until she had been cast out from the boarding house. It was not until she stood before her father’s house and realized that she was ruined and unfit to enter that she finally felt the weight of her shame.”
“But she has awakened to it, can you feel no compassion?” Darcy asked.
“Of course I feel compassion, Fitzwilliam! If I did not I would not feel anger towards her!” Elizabeth stared at him. “I am aware of her age and of her regret, but I cannot excuse knowingly performing unacceptable behaviour that would ruin herself and her family. A girl of her station knows her responsibilities; it was her choice to ignore them.”
“I agree with you.” Louisa nodded. “Girls are raised to be modest and obedient. Her virtue is her most precious possession and is what she is judged by until the day she marries. This is a failure of her parents and her self control.”
“Where is she?”
Louisa stood and went to the doorway. “I have her in a guest room. She is terrified of returning home.”
“Terrified?” Elizabeth shook her head. “Good, it seems that it is time that this girl felt something other than selfishness.” She swept away with Louisa, leaving the men staring at each other.
“It seems that the women are less tolerant than the men.” Hurst observed. “They know better than we the demands placed upon their behaviour.”
“Elizabeth’s fury is a testament to her upbringing.” Darcy glanced at Mr. Bennet who shook his head in disagreement.
“Not by our hands. The Gardiners are her teachers.” He muttered.
Nodding his acknowledgement, Darcy could not help but allow a smile to cross his lips, and then a quiet laugh. “I think that I can be assured that no daughter of ours will ever be in danger of disappointing us.”
“I do not believe I have ever seen Mrs. Darcy in such a state of anger.” Bingley stared at the empty doorway. “It is an awesome sight.”
“Not one you would wish to entertain?” Hurst sat back and relaxed.
“Certainly not one I would care to experience often, particularly if it was directed at me.” He glanced at Darcy who merely smiled. “You disagree, I take it?”
“I do.” Darcy said softly. “However, it is clear that my wife feels that this girl brought on her misfortune on her own, and therefore must face the consequences. I have no doubt that when she reappears, it will be with Miss Simkins in tow, and fully prepared to face her family. If her family is unwelcoming, we should have a plan of options prepared.”
“I was going to offer allowing Miss Simkins to come to Longbourn.” Mr. Bennet said quietly.
“That is generous, considering your acknowledgement that she nearly took Miss Lydia with her down this path of ruin.”
“I thought it …would be a good example for Lydia.”
“It is kind of you, sir. But this is the Simkins family’s responsibility. We are merely delivering her home. I think that we are better having clear suggestions ready for her father, who will either be elated or furious with her return.” Darcy closed his eyes. “If they have no convenient relative to send her to visit, I suggest finding her a respectable husband.”
Mr. Bennet looked at Bingley, who balked. “Not me!”
“Relax, Bingley.” Darcy smiled. “I was thinking of a tenant of de Bourgh’s I met. His wife died last year and he has enough staff to look after their child, but he would be better off with a wife. Of course there is Mr. Collins.”
“The vulture at my door.” Mr. Bennet snorted.
“He is a gentleman’s son with a decent position, with her dowry they could be comfortable.” Darcy saw Mr. Bennet’s sigh. “Unless you have hopes for him with Lydia or Kitty someday.”
“I have hopes that he will meet a swarm of bees.” Mr. Bennet said darkly and waved his hand. “Forgive me.”
“I understand.” Darcy glanced at the clock. “It is growing late for a call. What do you say to delivering a note to Mr. Simkins, inviting him here, neutral ground?”
“That is a fair idea.” Hurst walked over to a writing desk and settled in. “What should I say?”
“Dear Mr. Simkins …” Bingley began.
“Come and get your daughter.” Hurst murmured, as h
is quill scratched the paper.
“We are not her keepers, but we feel compassion for her plight.” Darcy said softly.
“Your failure has been thwarted, now come and prove yourself.” Mr. Bennet spoke to his hands.
Signing the note, Hurst looked it over and enclosing the letter from Jessica to Lydia, sealed it, then called for a footman to deliver it immediately and asked that Mrs. Hurst be made aware that one more guest would be coming. He sat back with his fingers entwined over his belly. “My brother was surprisingly cooperative.”
“I think that he was shamed.” Bingley nodded. “He was certainly defensive when I questioned him. What he does outside of the home I do not care to know, but to see that girl’s behaviour, I could not stand by and allow it to go on.”
“No.” Hurst sighed. “There are certainly a plethora of locations where he can satisfy his proclivities. Plenty of girls come to town to work as maids and end up in the trade, but they should be safe from the master if they are working for the household.”
“I was in Haymarket once and was approached by a child who could have been no more than thirteen.” Darcy said quietly. “It disturbed me greatly, especially as she was hardly alone. Everywhere we looked there was some woman or child offering herself.”
“What were you doing there?”
“It was after Fitzwilliam came home and he was feeling well enough to kick up his heels. He took me to places I’d never been. Neither of us did more than drink, and that was enough to make me wish for home.” He looked up at the ceiling.
“You do not have to go far to find a prostitute, Caroline has remarked that she would never walk Hyde Park for fear of being called one. She will only enter on horseback.” Bingley glanced at Darcy, who rolled his eyes.
“What sort of mother do you expect Caroline to be?” Hurst asked his brother.
“I suspect she will be everything that our mother was. Cold, demanding, and absent.” He looked down at his hands. “I feel for young Wallace.”
“Louisa will look out for him, Bingley. As will we.” Hurst smiled and sitting up, rubbed his hands together. “Well, I suspect that the ladies will be occupied preparing the girl for her reunion. Shall I suggest a round or two of whist, gentlemen?”
Darcy groaned and the others laughed. “I abhor cards.”
“Come on Darcy.” Bingley smiled and urged him to a table. “It will not kill you.”
ELIZABETH STOOD BEHIND DARCY, rubbing his shoulders and watching his cards. “Are you certain that you wish to play that?” She asked when his finger paused over one. “I would not.”
“Really?” He turned his head to see her innocent smile. “I disagree.” Plucking the selection from his hand, he placed it on the table. The collected men groaned and Darcy smiled slightly when she kissed his cheek. “Apology accepted.”
“What apology?”
“You recognized my superior play.”
“I stopped you from taking that card.” She pointed to his hand. “That is where you paused first.”
“Pausing is not playing. It is thinking.”
“I see.” She smiled and kissed his ear. “Think whatever you like, Mr. Darcy. We both know that you chose your card out of defiance.”
“I miss you, Lizzy.” Mr. Bennet said quietly and looked back at his hand.
“Thank you, Papa.” Darcy looked up to see her smile fade. “I miss you as well.” She walked away and went to stand by the window.
“Forgive me. There is enough tension in this house and I created more.” He looked to Darcy. “I meant no harm.”
Darcy leaned towards him and spoke quietly. “I understand, sir. I believe that Lydia is not the only daughter who is amazed at what you are willing to do for someone so unrelated to your family, considering the experience Elizabeth suffered in her childhood and since.”
“Do not think for a moment that I am unaware of that, I hope to earn her respect as well as do some good.”
Standing, Darcy walked over to Elizabeth and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Are you well?”
“No, but I am trying.” She whispered and dabbed her eyes. “Oh Will, she was so pathetic. She had already been chastised by Mrs. Hurst, but then when we confronted her with the letter to Lydia, she broke down and sobbed. I asked why it took her so long to realize that what she had done was wrong, and she said that living in the boarding house, every man that she … took to her bed told her how beautiful she was. She liked the attention, she liked them telling her what they wanted and seeing how pleased they were …” Darcy wrapped his arms around her. “It never occurred to her that every moment that she was away, she was destroying her family a little more. She thought that her actions affected only herself.”
“When did she realize what she had done?” Darcy kissed her forehead.
“When the woman who ran the house called her a whore and threw her clothes out in the street in the mud, and the man she had been living with shrugged and turned away. She saw some of the men she had laid with, and they laughed at her. That was when she walked home. She was filthy and hungry, and saw her sisters climbing down from a carriage, clean and dressed properly. That was when it all became clear that she could not just walk in the door and resume her place.” Darcy’s arms tightened around her. “We told her of the possibilities for her future. She was shocked but resigned.” Elizabeth’s eyes closed. “She said that I am not as Lydia described at all.”
There was a knock at the door, and the butler entered. “Sir, the gentleman who came to speak to his daughter is demanding that his carriage be brought around.”
“They are leaving?” Hurst asked. “He only just arrived.”
“Not they, sir.” The man said carefully. “He never actually visited the young lady.”
“He did not speak to her?” Darcy let go of Elizabeth and strode out of the door, down the stairs, and seeing Mr. Simkins in the foyer, picked up his pace. “Sir.”
The command in the one word stopped the distressed father’s movement. “Mr. Darcy.”
“Where are you going? Alone?” Darcy came to a stop in front of him and fixed his cold eyes upon the man. “Are you forgetting someone?”
“I have no need for a ruined child. It would have been better for our family if she had died.”
“How can you make such a statement!” Darcy cried.
“Because it is the truth.” Mr. Bennet said from the top of the stairs. “As horrible as it is to acknowledge Darcy, Elizabeth and Mrs. Hurst’s anger was entirely justified. Miss Simkins’ ruin extends to her sisters and family. You know that, you know the consequences of her actions.”
“Mr. Darcy, I know you are far richer than I and run in society that I can never achieve, but it does not give you the right to stick your nose in my business!” Simkins pointed at Mr. Bennet. “At least he understands why I feel this way.”
Mr. Bennet arrived at the bottom of the stairs. “Yes, I understand, I also understand that my daughter, your daughter’s great admirer, was a hair’s breadth from following her. So sir, may we agree that I do have the right to stick my nose in this? We are both men who have failed our children.” Seeing Simkins’ lack of response, he continued, “Tell me, do you truly wish that she had not been found? Would you prefer that she had remained lost to you? Never to know where she was? You realize that had she not been removed from the house where she worked, at this moment she might be on her back servicing her new master? I doubt that Robinson wasted any opportunity letting her know exactly what her duties would entail, even if he had not acted upon them yet.”
“Enough!” Simkins looked away.
Mr. Bennet gestured to the stairs. “You spent months searching for her; you knew that if she lived she would be in a state of ruin! Surely you did not think that she would have simply gone on a tour of the countryside for her little adventure?”
Darcy resisted the urge to throttle the man. “You have abandoned your duty to her long enough, sir. I will not permit you to walk away from it now.�
�
“I do not wish to abandon her.” He stared down at his feet. “I love my daughter.” Defiant, he glared at Darcy and Mr. Bennet. “Why would I have searched for her if I did not?”
“Then why do you run now?” Darcy demanded. “She is alive, she is battered and confused. Why would you add to that?”
“Because it is easier to do nothing, Darcy.” Mr. Bennet said quietly. “It is easier to close your eyes and pretend that nothing is wrong. It is easier to sit in your chair and let others clean up the messes that your negligence created, and to live in the world of complacency.”
“What am I to do? How can I face her?” Mr. Simkins broke down and sobbed. “My baby, my dear girl.”
“You cry for her now, but you leave her with strangers who feel more compassion than you.” Darcy said softly, and looking away, waited for Simkins to compose himself. “Sir, I have a daughter, and were I in your position, I … I am sure that I would feel the same despair but, I could never abandon her, no matter what she had done, no matter how she had disappointed me, I would help her. Somehow I would help her.”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “She may never live in your home again, the dreams you had for her are shattered, but she lives. And she is waiting for you.” Placing his hand on Simkins’ shoulder he stared him in the eye. “Go, be the father that she needs. Be the father that you and I have failed to be for our daughters.”
Simkins wiped his eyes and drew a long breath. “You are the first men to call me on my behaviour since my father died.” He shook his head. “Excuse me.” He set off up the stairs and Darcy closed his eyes, remaining in the foyer until he felt Elizabeth’s hand slip into his.
“He is with her now.” Elizabeth smiled and stroked back the hair from his brow. “Come.”
“I need to return home. Soon.” He said quietly, and fought the pain that was beginning to bloom.
“Soon.” She promised and looking to her father, she held out her other hand. “I am proud of you, Papa.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth.” He looked at her hand and squeezed it before letting go. “I will endeavour to continue making you proud.” The three made their way up the stairs to join the others, and waited.