by Jann Rowland
“Mrs. Gardiner!” called he as he approached.
The woman straightened from what she had been doing and put a hand over her eyes to shade them from the morning sun. While in the past she had greeted him with a smile and a few softly spoken words of welcome, on this occasion her gaze was appraising, firming Darcy’s belief she was aware to some degree of what had passed between himself and her niece.
“How do you do this morning, Mrs. Gardiner?” asked Darcy as he bowed to her.
“Very well, sir,” replied Mrs. Gardiner, dropping into a curtsey.
“I hoped I would see you this morning.” There was little reason to prevaricate and time was of the essence. “Forgive me if I speak out of turn and know I am well aware I might reveal something I ought not, but am I correct in apprehending that you know something of the situation between your niece and me?”
Mrs. Gardiner gazed on him for a moment, her expression unreadable, before she responded in the affirmative. “I am, Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth informed me of it several weeks ago, though she betrayed the matter in a moment of thoughtlessness. As we have always been close, she informed me of the truth when I pressed her.”
Darcy had not been conscious of the breath he had been holding, waiting for her answer. A sigh of relief passed through him and he attempted to give the woman a smile.
“Thank you for confirming that, Mrs. Gardiner. Please know that I would not ask under better circumstances, but I must leave the neighborhood for a few days, and I would not have her misunderstand the reason for my departure.”
“You must leave?” asked Mrs. Gardiner, cocking her head to the side.
“After the last incident between Miss Lydia and my brother, my father has decided it is best that he retire to his estate which is some thirty miles distant. I go with him because I have been managing it in his stead for some years—though I expect I will be absent only a few days, Elizabeth may not understand why I am gone, since I expect it will be spoken of in the neighborhood.”
“Yes, I can understand why that would be of concern,” murmured Mrs. Gardiner. The woman turned a questioning look on him. “Then you wish me to inform Elizabeth of the reasons for your departure?”
“If you please,” said Darcy, drawing the letter he had written the previous day from his pocket. “I know it is not proper, but I have written her a short letter explaining the matter. If you are not comfortable passing my letter to her, informing her of the reason for my absence would be sufficient.”
Mrs. Gardiner glanced at the folded paper in his hand, but she made no move to accept it. Instead, Darcy found himself the subject of her scrutiny, as if he was being tested, weighed, examined to ensure he was good enough for her precious niece. After a moment, Mrs. Gardiner spoke:
“Sending a letter to a young woman who is not a relation or fiancée is improper.”
“Then you need not concern yourself, Mrs. Gardiner,” said Darcy, a slow smile stealing over his face. “I proposed to Elizabeth after the ball and she accepted. Though our fathers have not given their blessings, I consider myself engaged to your niece, and I know she feels likewise.”
“It seems to me there is a story of which I am not aware in your words, sir,” replied Mrs. Gardiner. “Your confession implies you love her.”
“More than anything in the world.”
“Then I shall do as you ask,” said Mrs. Gardiner, returning his smile, though hers was wistful, misted over by powerful emotion. “I wish for nothing more than this for Elizabeth—for all my nieces. Please know that I am your supporter, for I believe in her happiness with you if you can surmount the barriers that stand in your way.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Gardiner,” said Darcy, his heart full in response to the trust she extended to him. “If I might also, should there be a need, please inform me at this address.” Darcy handed her a small card on which he had written the direction to Thorndell. “I do not ask that you breach propriety, but if there is anything for which Miss Elizabeth must contact me, I wish you to know how I may be contacted.”
“Very well,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “Then Godspeed, Mr. Darcy.”
With those final words, Mrs. Gardiner took the envelop he still held out to her and curtseyed before returning to the house. Darcy took himself away to his horse, swinging into the saddle and making his way back toward Pemberley, confident Elizabeth would not misunderstand his reason for departing.
While the atmosphere at Longbourn roiled with ill feelings and tension, Elizabeth felt little of it. The center of the discord was Lydia to no one’s surprise, who, though she did not rant and storm and carry on about it as she might have when she was a young girl, was still unhappy and not afraid to display her displeasure to them all. Not knowing just what her sister was playing at—and Lydia refused to elucidate—Elizabeth could not stifle the annoyance welling up within her.
Whatever her sister was about, she could not imagine it was anything other than Lydia’s willful disobedience, and the fact was that it curtailed Elizabeth’s own activities. Had it been nothing more than being denied the freedom to walk or ride alone, Elizabeth might have accepted it with philosophy and waited until matters settled. The consequences, however, manifest themselves in Elizabeth’s inability to see Mr. Darcy, and as she now found herself quite in love with that man, being denied his company was akin to physical pain.
“You seem to be much in evidence of late,” said Jane one morning only a few days later. Mr. Gardiner was, as usual, visiting, and though Elizabeth appreciated his attempts to lighten the mood, she was ill inclined to allow her pique to be mollified.
“Perhaps I am,” replied Uncle Gardiner. His gaze found Lydia sitting with Kitty across the room, whispering, though Elizabeth was certain her youngest sister knew of their conversation. “Shall I not visit my favorite relations?”
Uncle Edward, who was visiting that morning as well, snorted his amusement, while his wife looked at them all with concern. In particular, Aunt Madeline watched Elizabeth, and being the only person who knew of her meetings with Mr. Darcy other than Elizabeth and the man himself, she knew her aunt was concerned for her.
“Lizzy,” said Aunt Madeline after a few moments of watching her, “might I interest you in a walk in the gardens? There is something of which I would speak to you.”
Suspicious though she was of why her aunt would wish to speak with her alone, no one else noted anything out of the ordinary; Elizabeth and Aunt Madeline were very close, meaning such private conversations were not at all out of the ordinary. Even her Uncle Edward, at whom Elizabeth looked as she rose, seemed to have no apprehension of the likely subject of Aunt Madeline’s wish to speak with her, for he smiled at his wife and turned back to his brother.
When they reached the paths in the gardens after donning their outerwear, Aunt Madeline lost little time in opening the conversation. “Lizzy, how are you feeling?”
Attempting to put a brave face on her annoyance, Elizabeth said: “I am well, Aunt.”
Aunt Madeline fixed Elizabeth with a stern look. “It seems you have not been . . . wandering the countryside much of late, my dear.”
“With the rain and my uncle’s scrutiny I have had little opportunity to do so.”
“Which means you have not seen your young man of late.”
It occurred to Elizabeth to wonder what her aunt knew of her recent contact with Mr. Darcy. Her aunt seemed to understand her interest, for Aunt Madeline was quick to speak again.
“Yesterday morning Mr. Darcy paid me a visit, much to my surprise.”
“Mr. Darcy visited you?” asked Elizabeth, her focus now on her aunt to the exclusion of all else. “He did not see you in the street and stop to speak with you?”
“No, Lizzy,” said Aunt Madeline. “The gentleman came to the parsonage and spoke with me as I was outside. His purpose was to give me this letter, which he asked me to carry to you.”
Elizabeth gasped and took the folded paper with trembling hands, while her aunt continued to speak.
“Though I have not read it, I know what it contains, for the gentleman entreated me to convey his message if I was not uncomfortable carrying a letter to you. Please keep it private, Lizzy, for I am uneasy about this situation without even considering the impropriety of passing you a letter from a gentleman.”
With a nod, Elizabeth secured the letter in a pocket, mindful of the need to ensure no one else knew of its existence. Then she tore her attention away from it, already feeling as if it was burning a hole in her dress and regarded her aunt.
“What provoked Mr. Darcy to take this extraordinary step?”
“It would be best,” said Aunt Madeline, “if you were to read his words and discover it for yourself.”
With a murmured assent, Elizabeth walked on with her aunt, but now her attention was fixed on the letter in her pocket to the exclusion of all else. She longed to be in her room to read William’s words but did not wish to offend her aunt by cutting their walk short.
A moment later her aunt’s tinkling laughter interrupted Elizabeth’s thoughts. “Of course, you wish to read your letter, Lizzy, and I shall not keep you from it. Before you go, however, there is one thing I wish to say.”
Elizabeth stopped along with her aunt, noting the woman’s serious countenance, and her mirth faded like mist on a bright August day. “Lizzy, I must own that I am . . . uncomfortable about this situation. I have kept your secret for you, even from my own husband, though I suspect Edward would support my decision.”
“Thank you for your support, Aunt,” replied Elizabeth quietly. “It has meant much to me.”
“You know it was my pleasure to offer it. If there is anything I can do for you, you know I will do it, and that includes sending word to Mr. Darcy should it be required.”
Elizabeth fixed her aunt with a sharp look, to which she clarified: “Yes, Lizzy, he gave me directions to reach him should it be necessary. I will not give it to you, for I would not wish you to be tempted; but I have his directions.”
“Of course not,” murmured Elizabeth. “I should never dream of asking you.”
“That is good to hear.” Aunt Madeline paused for a moment before she continued to speak, saying: “Though my willingness to assist is given freely, that does not change the fact that I believe you have not considered exactly what you are doing. You are withholding this from your father and disobeying his instructions, and that does not sit well with me. If you consider it with honesty, clear of any self-interest, you are engaged in the same behavior as your sister Lydia, and to a greater extent, for I know you have met Mr. Darcy many times.”
“I am not Lydia,” said Elizabeth, frowning at her aunt. “Though I do not know what she is thinking, I have more in mind than mild flirtation.”
“Are you different?” demanded Aunt Madeline, her gaze piercing through Elizabeth’s defenses. “I will own, Lizzy, that I do not know what your sister is thinking. But whatever your motivation, you are not as different as you would like to think. It is not right to cast shade on your sister’s character when your actions have been the same. ‘He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone . . .’ Are you clean of any wrongdoing, Lizzy?”
Stricken, Elizabeth gazed at her aunt. Aunt Madeline saw her consternation, her gaze softened and she looked at Elizabeth with clear affection, taking her hand and patting it, a soothing gesture.
“Please do not misunderstand me, for I have only the highest regard for you, and despite my words, I do not believe you are the same as your sister. But I must confess I the secrets you are keeping weigh down on me, and I suspect if you looked within yourself, you would feel the same.”
“William and I have both long been uncomfortable with our disobedience,” whispered Elizabeth. “But I fear what my father will do if he learns of it. Will he forbid me from seeing William again? I do not believe I could endure it.”
“You are one and twenty in July, are you not?” asked Mrs. Gardiner with a smile. “When you reach your birthday you may do as you like.”
A hesitant smile stretched Elizabeth’s lips, prompting her aunt to pat her hand again. “You may also find your father more predisposed to pity your plight, Lizzy. Regardless of his reaction, however, I think you would be easier with your actions if you were to tell him the truth. Please consider it—that is all I ask.”
Having made her case, Mrs. Gardiner led them back to the house where they rejoined the family. It was not much longer before the younger Gardiners excused themselves and departed, and her elder Uncle Gardiner followed them soon after. Though it was only a few moments, to Elizabeth it felt like a lifetime, for the impulse to go to her room to read her letter was nigh overpowering.
Freed at last, Elizabeth excused herself and went to her room, opening the letter with trembling hands, admiring the neatness of the masculine handwriting as she did so. When the pages fell open to her eager eyes, she read the short missive, learning that William was to be absent at his brother’s estate. While unhappiness coursed through her when learning of their pending separation, accompanied by resentment toward her youngest sister, Elizabeth appreciated the lengths to which he had gone to inform her of his departure. If she had learned of his absence by other means, Elizabeth knew she would have agonized over the reason for his absence!
When the first emotions of reading his letter passed, Elizabeth fell into pensive thought, considering the letter before her, her aunt’s words, and all that had passed before. William’s departure, she decided after some thought—which involved a time spent working through her frustration—was a virtue. At present, Uncle Gardiner’s vigilance rendered any meeting William an endeavor fraught with the danger of discovery.
Elizabeth soon found her discomfort with the situation increasing tenfold. The longer this charade with William continued, the greater the chances of discovery grew. Would her father not be more disappointed with her if the matter came to his attention because of a chance discovery than if she informed him of the truth? Though fearful of being forbidden from seeing William at all, the thought of ending the weeks of sneaking about disobeying her father held some appeal. Elizabeth knew it was what she should do.
With a sigh, Elizabeth lay back on her bed. The next days, she knew would be laden with indecision and deep thought.
“Did you know my cousins have both left Pemberley?”
That bit of information seemed unknown to Mr. Gardiner, for his ears seemed to perk up like a dog hearing its master’s call. “They have departed from Pemberley?”
“Yes,” replied Anne, urging him to continue walking. “Two days ago their father ordered them to Alexander’s estate.” Anne paused and laughed. “To be more accurate, I suppose he ordered Alexander to Thorndell, but he requested William accompany him. My mother claims it was to keep him from mischief, but my uncle has refuted her view, saying he wished William, who has been managing the estate, to assist Alexander with assuming the role as the estate’s master.”
“It seems to me,” said Mr. Gardiner, “your uncle sent him away to relieve tensions.”
“That was the primary reason,” agreed Anne. “It is also true that Alexander is at an age where he must manage his own affairs. I believe Uncle saw this as an opportunity to bring that to pass and remove him from the neighborhood at the same time.”
Mr. Gardiner nodded still caught in the grips of introspection. When he did not speak up for a long moment, Anne felt a hint of mischief fill her mind and she stopped, pulling the surprised man with her.
“Are you not concerned William’s absence will prompt my mother to conclude there is no reason for us to stay in Derbyshire?”
It seemed Mr. Gardiner caught the teasing note in her voice, for he grinned. “If she does, will you allow her to drag you back to Kent?”
“Would it distress you if I did?”
Laughter was the gentleman’s response. “Yes, it would, Miss de Bourgh. While we have only met on a few occasions, I respect your opinions and enjoy your company. I believe it
would distress me very much if you were to depart.”
“Then you do not need to concern yourself, Mr. Gardiner,” said Anne, a lightness entering her heart. “Despite my mother’s wishes, I have no desire to return to Kent, and I know my Darcy relations will continue to host me if I ask them.”
“That is welcome news, Miss de Bourgh,” said Mr. Gardiner, clasping her hand to his arm and continuing their walk down Lambton’s street. “It would distress me to lose your company at present, for I believe our association is doing us both much good.”
While Anne agreed with Mr. Gardiner’s statement without reserve, her own assertion was put to the test as soon as she returned to Pemberley. The two gentlemen remaining in residence, both of whom appeared rather grim, waylaid her as she entered the house.
“Anne, will you join me in my study for a moment?”
“Of course, Uncle,” said Anne.
It was clear her secret—which she had never considered to be a secret—had become known to him, so there was no point denying him his opinion on the matter. In truth, thought Anne with a chuckle to herself, she had no interest in denying it, and would not allow her uncle to dictate to her—in this, she fancied herself as resolute as Fitzwilliam, who was trailing them to the study. To her surprise, it was Fitzwilliam who spoke up when they had reached the room.
“You have my apologies, Anne,” said he, “but I saw you with Mr. Gardiner in Lambton for the second time today.”
“Of more importance to the current situation,” said Uncle Darcy, “was that I saw you, and your mother was within a hair’s breadth of seeing you too.”
“If my mother should know of my association with Mr. Gardiner,” said Anne, “it would not cause me a hint of concern.”
Uncle Darcy peered at Anne as if trying to understand her. Unwilling to allow his somber scrutiny to persist, Anne released an amused laugh. “Are you surprised, Uncle? Should I attempt to portray the cowed daughter, obedient to my mother’s every nonsensical whim?”