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A World of Expectations_Book 2_The Confrontation

Page 37

by Gayle Lynn Messick


  “Do not hesitate to ask for anything you wish.”

  Georgiana left, but neglected to close the door to the hallway behind her. Within minutes, two young maids appeared in the hallway, their voices carrying into the room.

  “You are fortunate Mr. Darcy did not dismiss you when that letter was lost. He was as angry as I have ever seen.”

  “I did fear it. I can’t think of what may have happened to me if I was dismissed. Why didn’t he?”

  Elizabeth, intrigued by the question, moved closer to the door.

  “He is the best master in all the land, that is why. There are hundreds of girls wanting to work here? He takes care of every one of us.”

  “He does pay the best wages.”

  “He does more than fill your purse. He will take care of you if you are in trouble.”

  “Bah. Rich men don’t care about the likes of us.”

  “Look what he did for the maid before you, and tell me he is not the best of masters.”

  “She was let go because she was with child. I heard ‘em say he made her leave, and her husband just recently dead. That proves he isn’t any different than other masters.”

  “Do not be a silly goose. Mr. Darcy sent her to live in Pemberley. He found her a home where she and her baby will be cared for, and paid her wages even though she could not work.”

  “Maybe he likes the girl more than you know? Perhaps the child is his.”

  Elizabeth covered her mouth to conceal her gast.

  “Hush! Do not speak about the master that way. He is a gentleman. He treats all the girls as a gentleman aught too. Go work for Lord Atterton. He fits the type of master you are talking about. Not our Mr. Darcy. The poor girl was with child when she came to work here after her husband’s carriage accident. She did not know she had a baby coming.”

  “Oh. “I suppose then we should be more worried if he marries.”

  “Gad! I cannot bear to think of it. What if he marries one of those haughty society ladies? They are always trying to be friends with Miss Darcy just to be near him. I do not know who is good enough for him.”

  “The master hasn’t smiled once since he came back from Kent.”

  “Well, he did smile at Miss Kent. She is a sweet one. He could marry her.”

  “Ah, yes! A sweet girl she is, and nice to everyone. I like her, and she comes here often with her brother. Miss Kent is handsome too. She would look good on the master’s arm. She has come for tea today, but our master is gone away—”

  “Girls! Stop talking and get back to work or I will have you scrubbing pans for a week.” Mrs. Geoffries voice boomed as she stood with her arms crossed, the corners of her mouth turned down.

  Elizabeth looked away and leaned against the wall. Miss Kent? Mr. Darcy? She had not time to imagine Mr. Darcy with another lady when she heard a knock at the door. She rushed back to her chair and settled down when the housekeeper peeked in the room. She waved her in.

  “Miss Bennet. I came to ensure that you are not ill.” Mrs. Geoffries drew near Elizabeth.

  “I was just returning to the others, I only needed a moment to rest. I am better now.”

  “Mr. Darcy left word to take special care of you. I will not let you leave this room until I am satisfied.” She touched her forehead to determine if there was a fever.

  “No, no. I am well.” Elizabeth moved her hand to smooth her gown when she remembered she still held the metal-tipped pen. She moved to the desk to return the pen to its place, she spied a cameo of a young man in a frame with a striking resemblance of Mr. Darcy. She picked it up.

  “That is Mr. Darcy. And do not you think him a handsome gentleman, Ma'am?” Mrs. Geoffries handed the cameo to Elizabeth

  “Yes, very handsome.” Her fingers traced the face’s outline.

  With a twinkle in her eye, Mrs. Geoffries stared at Elizabeth Bennet. “I am sure I know none so handsome.” She placed the cameo of her master back in place and glanced sideways at the young lady’s suddenly reddened cheeks. “I am lucky in having such a master. If I was to go through the world, I could not meet with a better. But I have always observed that they who are good-natured when children are good-natured when they grow up; and he was always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted, boy in the world.”

  Elizabeth almost stared at her. Can this be Mr. Darcy?

  “He is the best master who ever lived. Not like the wild young men now-a-days, who think of nothing but themselves.” Mrs. Geoffries tuned to face Elizabeth. “There is not one of his servants, but what will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men.”

  Elizabeth nodded her head slowly dawdling a moment while she memorized the silhouette.

  Mrs. Geoffries smiled before moving to the door. “Would you like to join the others now?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Mrs. Geoffries led her into the music room, where Jane sat conversing with Mrs. Annesley and Mrs. Gardiner. Georgiana and Miss Sarah Kent were sitting at the pianoforte.

  She is beautiful, Elizabeth’s chest tightened as she admired a handsome woman sitting beside the young hostess. Miss Kent lifted her head, whispered to Miss Darcy, and then rose from the bench. Darcy’s sister also jumped up, knocking the sheet music to the floor.

  Elizabeth ran to help retrieve the music, and the three women bumped heads when they reached for all the wayward sheets. They stood, exchanged civilities, and then laughed together when the one remaining sheet slipped from the piano.

  ***

  That night, Jane slid under the covers with her sister. “Miss Darcy is a sweet girl. I think Mr. Bingley will be happy with her.”

  “Bah! She has no interest in him. Did you hear her mention his name once?”

  “That would have been impolite. I am resigned. Miss Kent is so interesting; I like her. Perhaps, Miss Bingley has a rival.” Jane chuckled.

  “Miss Kent is not a rival because Miss Bingley is not even being considered. Mr. Darcy has…”

  “What is it Lizzy? You have been withdrawn ever since you returned from Hunsford. What happened? Did Mr. Collins say anything impolite? He can be a little foolish at times.”

  “No. In fact, he was kind. In his own way, he tried to put me at ease before I met Lady Catherine. Mr. Darcy said things that left me perplexed, upset, and a little angry. I am astonished beyond words.”

  “You must tell me now. Did he say you are even less than tolerable? Did he refuse to dance with you again?”

  “Stop! What he said has caused me never to want to go home. Ever!”

  Jane bolted upright. “Why. What happened?”

  “Mother. She is the problem.”

  “What did she do? Did she write a letter telling Mr. Darcy he is a horrible man? She detests him, you know.”

  “Worse. She lied to Lord Blake.”

  “When?”

  Lizzy got up and retrieved her handkerchief with the broken chess pieces in it. “Remember when I told you how Lord Blake did not wait for me.”

  “Yes, but you said little else.”

  “I thought he had abandoned me, but I learned he came to the house looking for me when I did not meet him that day.”

  “I never thought he was a man without honor. But, why did you not see him? I do not understand.”

  “You were visiting with the Lucases. Mama forced me to stay in my room to contemplate marriage to Mr. Collins, and then she lied to Lord Blake when he called on me. She told him I had gone to London to avoid him. Mama lied.”

  Jane jumped up and held her sister in her arms. They stood together for many minutes, the tick of the clock and the crackle of the fire filled the room. “You may cry on my shoulder, Lizzy, if it will help.”

  “No. I do not need to cry. I am angry and… embarrassed.”

  Jane straightened a wayward curl on Lizzy’s neck. “How did Mr. Darcy come to tell you this?”

  “I accus
ed him of separating Lord Blake from me. Since he believed we were beneath him, I supposed he felt I was not worthy for his friend. But that does not make any sense when you consider he asked…” Lizzy placed her hand on her mouth.

  “Why would you speak of Lord Blake to Mr. Darcy? How did this come about?”

  “Oh, dear, sweet sister! I cannot talk of this now. So many things are not the way I believed. I am confused. People I trusted are not trustworthy and someone I found despicable is perhaps the most honorable of men. I must never again be so quick to judge, or to think I am extraordinarily wise. I must think before I speak.”

  “Oh.” Jane turned away, her shoulders slumped.

  Lizzy hugged her sister. “Mr. Darcy proposed.”

  “Proposed! I can scarcely believe it. But you refused?”

  “Yes. You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?"

  "Blame you! Oh, no. Is it because you still have hope for Lord Blake?”

  “I refused Mr. Darcy based on my feelings towards him. Give me a little time to overcome my anger, my hurt, and even my astonishment before I speak further. I must consider everything before I come to any conclusions. We return to Longbourn soon, and I must decide what to say to Mother, if I bother to say anything at all. What is done is done, and I cannot change the fact that Lord Blake and I will never see each other again.

  “Did you tell Mr. Darcy that you had not gone to London? Perhaps he will convey that to his friend.”

  “No. I only asked him why he separated Blake from me. His letter explained what Mama said. Now it is too late for Lord Blake to hear the truth. He and Mr. Darcy have dropped their association with each other. Truthfully, I doubt if Mr. Darcy would have wanted to say anything since he, himself, proposed to me. And after speaking to Uncle and spending a day at Darcy House, I am no longer clear in my mind who…”

  “Did you say Mr. Darcy wrote you a letter?”

  “Yes.” Lizzy forced a yawn. “I am tired and my head aches. Please, no more questions. I wish to go to bed. I will explain more once we are in our own bedchambers in Longbourn.” The two girls jumped into bed; Jane blew out the candle, and with their backs to one another, and even though they did not fool each other, they pretended to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  During the week that followed, Darcy spent his available time on the business of the alliance. His priorities required a different focus. They needed to move quickly to shore up the contracts and protect the business.

  Once the dust had settled and everyone believed they were on good footing to forestall the Falcon with many more contracts in hand and other deals struck, Darcy had time to pursue earlier commitments.

  Bingley had returned north with his Uncle Watt and Samuel Gaston to monitor the progress on the manufacture and distribution of the modified Baker Rifle. Gaston had the organization to reap further profits. And since Lord Liverpool would not deny the army the use of these guns, the Falcon did not force the cancellation of the order. Darcy and the other partners left for a tour of the Boulton Soho Manufactory as he had promised Kent.

  The entire week spent in Birmingham had been enlightening; Darcy discovered the depth of the prestige held by the tradesmen for the Kent family; and that the strength of their business was staggering. Between the Kents and the Boultons, he doubted any other family could have acquired such a hold on the production, manufacturing and trading of such a variety of products. But the treatment of their workers is what caused Darcy to truly admire them. Much like the respectful and caring manner in which he dealt with his tenants, the Kents and Boultons treated their own employees.

  The trip was a diversion from his day of self-discovery, but only to a point. Darcy caught himself wondering about Elizabeth’s visit to his home. Before he had left, Georgiana had asked to invite Gardiner’s wife and nieces for tea. He agreed and suggested she include Miss Kent in the group, which made his sister hug him tightly and whisper how sorry she was for her recent outburst. He had left strict instructions with his staff to provide anything the ladies desired, and in particular to respond immediately to Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s wishes. He directed not even the simplest of requests go ignored. All week, he fretted about the tea.

  When he returned to London, he bounded up the stairs in search for his sister. He needed to discover if Elizabeth had come. His heart filled with joy while Georgiana expressed her own admiration of her. Not only was Elizabeth beautiful, her interpretation of the sonnet she played on the pianoforte was much more expressive than her own. She told her brother how kind she had been to Miss Kent and how she had treated all the servants with great respect. Darcy ached with every word; he asked if she commented on his home. Did she admire the artwork, the statues, or the furnishings? He begged for every little scrap of information until it pained him to hear the words that she was here and he was not; still, he would not stop Georgiana from speaking about her. When his sister mentioned how much she liked the new pen, he had one sent for each member of the Gardiner family, nieces included.

  Mrs. Geoffries had been quick in revealing every detail of their time together. Ill? Was it because of me that caused her to seek a room to compose herself? He imagined her holding his cameo and felt a sense of relief that she had even touched it. That night He took the cameo to his bedchambers and spent an hour gazing upon it. Did she find my face handsome? Mrs. Geoffries said she had admired my image. He touched it where he had imagined where her fingers had stroked.

  The moment had arrived. He must make a full assessment of his life; a harsh honest look that could not be delayed any longer. He had made a muddle of everything and he needed to determine what caused everyone’s animosity towards him. Perhaps if he could figure it out, then he would not continue to cause such ill feeling. He vowed to take his time and not allow business or pleasure to divert him. He must mull this situation over. Yes, his friends were correct. He needed to mull this over and over again. He accepted this as his nature. He would not hurry to understand what the others saw in him.

  First, he worried how Georgiana would react to his shutting himself up, so he informed her he had to resolve a problem. He did not wish to cause worry or concern to her or the servants, but he must be alone.

  Georgiana offered him a slight smile and squeezed his arm. “I understand, dear brother. I will see that you are not disturbed.”

  Safely behind locked doors, alone with his pen and papers and brandy and tea, he began the search for the truth. In the beginning, he denied everything everyone said. He was not at fault, they were. He listed ever accusation and glared at it before he prepared his arguments. His routine did not change. He spent his days locked in his study and his nights locked in his bedchamber. The servants delivered his meals to his room on trays although he returned them with barely a morsel removed.

  Every day he saw them. He could make out their irate faces and hear their harsh words. When they made their accusations, he wrote down what they had said, trying to be exact. After a few days, his writing in anger subsided, replaced by a round of spelling out his arguments and reasons for what he did. He made a list and studied it, made changes, crossed out entries, and finally balled it up and threw it in the fire. He would start a new list and repeated the pattern. This behavior lasted for several days. He could not find justification for his actions for every charge and the ones he did sounded hollow when he read them aloud. He grew quieter than was usual for him. He had the reflecting mirror removed from his bedchamber when he had discovered he could not stand to see the person whose image appeared.

  Locked in the study early one evening, he consumed more brandy than what was wise and nodded off into a deep sleep in his comfortable chair. Within seconds, he found himself transported to a strange room at the end of which stood a long bench where a man dressed in black, wearing a gray wig, sat with a gavel in his hands. Darcy strained to identify the man, but could not. The face was blurred except for a pair of sparkling blue eyes.

 

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