Mr. Darcy's Obsession

by Abigail Reynolds

  “Of course not. She is your companion, and it is your choice. Though if she is unsatisfactory in any way, I hope you will inform me.”

  “Not at all! She is everything that is kind and proper. But sometimes I prefer to be with someone closer to my own age. I am so glad you decided to bring Mary here for me.”

  He blinked in surprise. “For you?”

  “Is that not why you brought her here from Rosings, because you thought she would be good company for me?”

  “It was not my intent, but if it pleases you, then I am happy.”

  “What was your intent, then?”

  Not a question he wished to answer, but it was a good sign that she dared question him again. If it was the girl’s influence, he could not complain. “Her situation at Rosings was difficult, and it seemed best to remove her from the environs.”

  “Because of her father, I suppose. Was it Sir Lewis, then? Mary says her mother never told her, apart from that he was a gentleman.”

  It was a measure of Darcy’s distraction that it took him a moment to understand her meaning. Seeking to recover himself, he said, “I seriously doubt it was Sir Lewis. He was not one to notice a pretty face.” He hoped she would not question his statement. He had tried since Ramsgate to acquaint Georgiana with some of the less innocent elements of life, since naïveté had not served her well, but there were some things he was not prepared to explain to his younger sister. At least he had an excuse to break off the conversation. “Shall we walk out in a quarter hour, then?”

  “Certainly.”

  He had escaped unscathed there. Perhaps that was a good omen for the rest of the day.

  ***

  Young Matthew Gardiner leaned out over the water of the Serpentine. He pointed excitedly, almost overbalancing in his enthusiasm. “Look, a giant fish! Right there!”

  “That is indeed a big fish,” said Elizabeth gravely, holding tight to the hand of his younger brother, Andrew.

  Margaret huffed. “That is nothing compared to the fish Father caught when we visited Longbourn. It’s just a baby.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Matthew cried.

  An argument of this sort could go on for hours if there were no distraction. “Shall we look for the swans?” Elizabeth asked.

  Matthew pouted. “I want to try to catch the fish, just like Father.”

  “You would need a rod and tackle for that, I fear.” Elizabeth tugged gently at his hand, and he followed grudgingly.

  Margaret stood on her tiptoes. “I think the swans are down there.”

  Elizabeth shaded her eyes as she looked down the length of the Serpentine. She could not see swans, but Margaret’s eyes were sharper than hers. She stiffened as a movement on the path along the lake caught her eye. Surely it could not be! It must be some other gentleman of the same height, the same proud stature, the same long stride.

  But it was him, with a fashionably dressed young woman on his arm. Something twisted in Elizabeth’s chest. His love had not lasted long; he had already replaced her in his heart, and with a lady for whom he did not have to skulk in Moorsfield.

  She could not bear to meet him. “Come, children. We must go now.”

  “But we haven’t seen the swans yet,” Margaret protested.

  Elizabeth busied herself retying Margaret’s bonnet strings, giving her an excuse not to look up. “Let us walk through the gardens, then, and see the swans afterwards.”

  “Please, Lizzy, can’t we see them now instead?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the couple approaching. It was too late to flee. Instead she put her back to the path, gazing steadfastly into the water. “Where did your fish go, Matthew? I cannot see it.”

  Matthew and his brother needed no further excuse to go back to the reeds by the water. Elizabeth closed her eyes with relief. Mr. Darcy might still see her, but he would not have to acknowledge her. She strained her ears for his familiar tones, but heard only a light feminine laughter and footsteps on the gravel path.

  The footsteps paused. Mr. Darcy’s voice floated past her, sending a shiver down her arms. “Just a moment, my dear,” he said softly and then called out, “Miss Bennet!”

  There was no avoiding it. Elizabeth turned slowly and curtsied. “Mr. Darcy.” She fixed her eyes on his cravat. It was safer than looking at his face.

  The couple approached closer. “Miss Bennet, may I have the honour of introducing you to my sister?” he asked.

  Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. His sister, not his betrothed or his wife. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Darcy.”

  “Not Miss Bennet of Hertfordshire? My brother has told me so much about you.”

  He had told his sister about her? Elizabeth’s mouth opened, but it was a moment before she could force any words out. “I am all astonishment.”

  “Indeed. He told me of your musical talent and how much pleasure he found in listening to you perform.”

  “He is far too kind,” Elizabeth said.

  Darcy finally allowed himself to breathe more easily. He had found her. Poor Georgiana had been sweet about being dragged all over Hyde Park without an explanation, since young Charlie could not provide any information as to where in the park his quarry might be. Darcy wondered what his sister might be thinking, faced with the blushing Miss Bennet who would not look him in the eyes.

  Naturally it must be difficult for her. He was at least prepared for the moment. But how was he to determine her feelings if she hid her face from him? He could see little of her but the rim of her bonnet.

  He had to say something. “It is a fine day for a walk in the park.” Hardly original, but unexceptionable.

  She still did not raise her eyes, though she seemed comfortable enough looking at Georgiana. When she spoke, it was in a strained voice. “We are fortunate to have such a warm day so early in the spring. But you must excuse us; I promised to take the children to see the swans.”

  “Perhaps we could accompany you,” he said. Was she trying to avoid him or merely looking for a graceful escape from an embarrassing situation?

  “Oh, yes!” said Georgiana stoutly, much to his surprise. “I have not seen the swans since last summer.” It was so unlike her to speak up in company that he knew she must be doing it for his sake.

  Finally, finally she looked at him, with the barest trace of her teasing look. “We would be honoured, of course, but you must understand the children are not always the easiest of company.”

  “I love children,” Georgiana announced. Darcy gave her a sideways glance. She was going to expect some serious explanations from him later.

  Elizabeth said, “Very well, but you have been warned! Come then, Margaret, and you boys as well. No, leave the stick there, if you please, Matthew.”

  Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm, waiting an anxious moment until she took it. Georgiana, bless her heart, was engaging the young girl in conversation, but he was starting to take a serious dislike to Elizabeth’s bonnet, because again it hid her face.

  They walked in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, broken only when Elizabeth stopped to point out to the children two deer among the trees. The boys immediately raced towards them, but the deer fled at the sight.

  “Your cousins have a great deal of energy,” Darcy said.

  “Yes, they do.” She kept her eyes on the ground.

  Did she ever look up anymore? This would not do. He would have to say something, or he would never know what she was thinking. “I hope my presence does not make you uncomfortable.”

  “Uncomfortable is perhaps the wrong word, sir. It would be more accurate to say…” She trailed off into silence.

  “To say what?”

  A small smile played over her lips, but she still did not look at him. “Perhaps mortified. Or embarrassed. Chagrined. Abashed. You may take your pick. They are all true.”

  “If the choice were mine, it would be none of these.”

  “What would you have me say, then?” She absently stroked t
he dangling ribbon of her bonnet with one fingertip.

  Entranced, he followed the movement of her hand with his eyes. “Whatever the truth might be, even if it is that you would wish me elsewhere.”

  She seemed fascinated with the gravel pathway. Did her silence mean it was true? Was he nothing but a painful reminder of an embarrassing episode? Finally, just as he was about to give up, she said softly, “I have missed our conversations, Mr. Darcy.”

  “As have I.” It was something, at least, and it made his heart leap. “You were very patient in listening to me.”

  “You ascribe to me more virtues than I possess.” She glanced over her shoulder towards the boys, as if to ensure they had followed.

  “I have no doubt about your virtues.” From the crimsoning of her cheeks, he suspected she understood that he spoke of more than just the virtue of patience, but his patience was less than hers, for he could not stand to be in doubt any longer. “You used to look at me on occasion as we talked. Perhaps I have grown a hump or a wart upon my chin.”

  She turned her head towards him with just a trace of her old arch look. “No, you look quite unchanged.”

  “My valet will be devastated. He spent weeks persuading me to change the knot of my cravat.”

  This time she did laugh. “You seek to trap me, sir!”

  “Not to trap you, no. But in some ways I am quite unchanged.” His eyes held hers, and his heart began to pound because of what he saw there. Caution, but also awareness, and perhaps a hint of sadness. Now he knew she had not forgotten his declaration of ardent love.

  She was the first to look away, seeming to seize the excuse of a cry from the youngest Gardiner boy. She hurried to the child’s side. He held his hand out to her, displaying a scrape on the palm. Elizabeth took the boy’s hand and examined it with great seriousness before pronouncing that she thought it would heal with time.

  Darcy looked on. It was foolish to be jealous of a child no more than six years of age simply because Elizabeth held his hand and focused her attention on him. He forced his feet to take him down the path to Georgiana, who was looking at him inquisitively.

  “Miss Gardiner and I have been discussing her history studies,” Georgiana said. “She has a great enthusiasm for the subject.”

  Darcy appreciated Georgiana’s choice of subject. He had little experience dealing with children, but even he could manage to ask about schooling. “Do you have a favourite period in history?”

  “Oh, yes, sir. The Romans.” The girl launched into the topic with fervour.

  Even without looking, Darcy could tell Elizabeth was approaching them. She stopped beside her young cousin. “Margaret, I imagine Miss Darcy and Mr. Darcy have more to do today than to listen to ancient history.”

  Darcy said, “On the contrary, Miss Bennet. Your cousin is a delightful conversationalist.”

  “You have chosen her favourite subject, sir, and I doubt you have had the chance to say more than a word.”

  “It is a favourite of mine as well.” He hoped she realized he was not speaking solely of history.

  Margaret’s face lit up, and she pointed towards the water. “Look, there are the swans! Are they not beautiful?”

  “Very beautiful,” Darcy agreed, looking only at Elizabeth. Her presence and the sense of hope it gave him were intoxicating.

  The boys raced to the bank of the river, each vying to get closest to a swan. The elder one triumphantly picked up a white feather from the rocks at the edge, holding it just out of his brother’s reach. The younger one, with a determined look, made a leap for it.

  “Andrew!” cried Elizabeth, rushing towards the boy an instant before he toppled into the water.

  Darcy was closer, though. The boy was in no danger in the shallow water, or would be once he thought to stand up, but his freckled face screwed up in dismay as he flailed. Darcy touched Elizabeth’s arm briefly to stay her and then waded out into the water and fished the boy out. He carried him to the bank and set him down. Darcy asked, “Are you injured, lad?”

  Elizabeth was there before he could reply, brushing Andrew’s dripping hair from his forehead. “There is no need for fear, you are quite safe, my dear.”

  Andrew hiccupped. “I fell in,” he said, quite unnecessarily.

  “Indeed you did, and now you are quite wet. That is an adventure to remember.” Elizabeth managed to elicit a smile through the boy’s tears. “You must thank Mr. Darcy, Andrew.”

  The boy mumbled his thanks, and Elizabeth straightened. “It was very good of you, sir. I am sorry to put you to the trouble. I fear you must be uncomfortable.”

  “It was nothing,” he said brusquely. Any discomfort he felt had nothing to do with dampness. “The water barely reached over my boots.”

  “Yes, I can see you are quite dry indeed,” Elizabeth said archly, gesturing towards his chest where the evidence of water could not be denied. “Your poor valet may be even more devastated when he sees you now.”

  He glanced down. The front of his tailcoat was wet where he had held the boy. He brushed off a few drops of water, but it made no difference to his appearance. “It is no matter.” It was not. A stain on his coat was a small price to pay to see Elizabeth teasing him again. He would have happily jumped into the Serpentine himself if he thought it would make her smile. “But this young man is soaked through. Our house is but a short walk from here. We can find him some dry clothes and a warm fire there.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “We could not possibly impose on you.”

  “Nonsense. I insist. Do you not agree, Georgiana?”

  “Of course!” his sister said. “You cannot take him all the way to Cheapside like that. He would catch his death of cold, and I would never forgive myself.”

  Darcy wondered when Georgiana had developed her sudden talent for dramatics. “You would not want my sister to worry, would you, Miss Bennet?”

  She gave him an amused look that said she was fully aware he had trapped her after all. “Well, then, I suppose we must accept your kind offer.”

  ***

  Elizabeth looked down Brook Street to the townhouse Mr. Darcy had indicated. “Your house is indeed very close to Hyde Park,” she said.

  “Very convenient.” He looked a bit smug.

  “Almost too convenient,” she teased. “I might wonder if you persuaded poor Andrew to jump in the lake.”

  “No, indeed,” Darcy said, “though had I realized it would have such an outcome, I might have tried.”

  Elizabeth smothered a laugh at his brazen answer. “I must ask you one question, sir.”

  “Anything.”

  “How did that letter come to appear in my room?”

  “The same way I knew you would be in the park today.”

  “Indeed?” Her words were a challenge.

  He smiled indulgently. “Yes, indeed, but a gentleman never reveals his sources.”

  They stayed but an hour at the townhouse, long enough for Andrew to be hurried off by a servant, his clothing dried and returned to him still warm from the fireside. Both Darcy and Georgiana attempted to persuade them to lengthen their visit, but to no avail, as Elizabeth insisted the Gardiners would worry if they did not return soon.

  Darcy was content. The meeting had gone far better than he hoped. Elizabeth seemed more natural with him by the end of the visit, and as her smiles and laughter returned, his spirits rose with them. There was no chance for them to speak privately, but perhaps that was for the best at this stage.

  He walked them out to the street where a hackney cab, summoned by his footman, awaited them.

  Elizabeth lingered on the steps. “Mr. Darcy, I must thank you for all your kindness today. Were my aunt and uncle here, they would add their gratitude to mine.”

  “There is no need for thanks. I am grateful for such pleasant company.”

  An impish smile hovered about her mouth. “You will not even allow me to thank you, then?”

  He pretended to consider the matter. “No,
I think I shall not. You must save your thanks until next we meet.”

  She gave him an amused look. The hackney driver coughed pointedly, stamping his feet on the board. Darcy opened the door, and the children hurried in, impatient with the grown-up conversation. Elizabeth lingered a moment as if she would say something else, but then she took his offered hand and stepped into the carriage. “I thank you anyway, sir,” she said.

  “It was my pleasure entirely.” He kept his eyes fixed on her, determined not to lose a minute of his opportunity to see her. The driver cracked his whip, and the horses took off at a brisk walk.

  Georgiana was waiting just inside the door. She tugged his arm until he followed her to the sitting room, where she closed the door behind him. “Well, Fitzwilliam?”

  “Well, Georgiana?”

  “Would you care to explain to me why you staged that encounter? Could you not have simply called on her?”

  Darcy sank onto the cushioned sofa embroidered with wildflowers. “I have not seen Miss Bennet in some time. We quarrelled, and I did not have a chance to make amends. A spontaneous meeting seemed safer.”

  “That meeting was no more spontaneous than Napoleon’s march on Russia!”

  “But somewhat more pleasant, one would hope.”

  “She is charming, naturally. Ought I to wish you joy, then?”

  “Premature, my dear. Quite premature.” He was not about to tell Georgiana just how badly their last meeting had gone, but by the time Elizabeth left that day, she was smiling at him again, and she understood his intent. “But perhaps someday.”

  Chapter 8

  Elizabeth’s giddiness lasted through the rest of the day. She could not forget her meeting with Mr. Darcy for a moment, even if she had not been subjected to repeated recitations of the entire adventure by the children. She was aware of a whispered conversation between her aunt and uncle when he came home that afternoon and of the sharp looks Mr. Gardiner gave her afterwards. She could not miss that Mrs. Gardiner penned a letter of thanks to Miss Darcy and Mr. Darcy for their kindness to the children, since her aunt made a point of writing it in front of her and read it aloud when she finished it.