Mr. Darcy's Letter

by Abigail Reynolds

  “Frightened? That is quite unlike the Lydia I know.”

  “It is indeed. Fortunately, she is improving a little. At least she seems to trust Thomas Wickham.”

  “And is he a man to be trusted?”

  Mrs. Gardiner paused. “Yes, I believe he is. Even if he is only marrying her for pecuniary reasons, he seems a decent man.”

  “Does Lydia like him?”

  Her aunt sighed. “I believe so. He flatters her constantly.”

  “Oh, dear,” said Elizabeth with heavy irony. “How pleasant for everyone.”

  ***

  To Elizabeth’s surprise, Lydia seemed unusually happy to see her, embracing her and holding her tightly, even sniffling a little. “Oh, Lizzy,” she cried. “I have missed you so much!”

  Perhaps, Elizabeth thought, the idea of never seeing her family again had made Lydia value them a little more, since she had never before shown this sort of affection. “I hope you are well.” She could not bring herself to say anything kinder.

  Lydia shrugged and looked away anxiously, causing Elizabeth to reflect on her aunt’s earlier words about her sister suffering possible misuse. She wondered if Lydia had finally realized that the world did not exist specifically to provide her with enjoyment. “Do tell me about your husband-to-be. I know nothing of him beyond his name and rank.”

  Lydia seemed calmer at the thought of her intended. “You will meet him soon enough. He is as amiable and handsome as his brother, and always the gentleman. He has been in the regulars since he finished at university and has fought in actual battles! He will not tell me stories of them because he is afraid of damaging my sensibilities.”

  As if Lydia had any delicate sensibilities! But perhaps it was best for her betrothed to maintain some illusions about his future wife, at least long enough to get them to the altar.

  “It is extraordinarily generous of him to offer for you. I hope you realize that.”

  Lydia burst into tears. “I do know. I was so frightened, Lizzy. You cannot imagine.”

  It was astonishing to see her youngest sister in the grips of an emotion other than excitement or sulkiness.

  Perhaps she really had learned something from her experiences. “I am sorry Mr. Wickham – the younger one, that is – treated you so poorly.”

  “He was so charming and thoughtful of me in Brighton, but as soon as we reached London, he changed.

  He was always impatient, as if he were waiting for something, but I never knew what it was.” Lydia mopped her eyes with a handkerchief that bore signs of recent use. “He promised to show me all the delights of London, but instead all he did was to take me walking every day, up and down the same street near Hyde Park, even when it was raining. I should have known something was wrong, because he said he was going to introduce me to one of his friends who worked at a fancy townhouses there, but when he tried to see her, he was practically thrown out. I was such a fool!”

  Elizabeth could not argue that point.

  She took only a few moments to freshen up after speaking to Lydia, and felt all the fatigue inherent in long day of travel in close quarters. Feeling unequal to an evening with the family, she determined she would instead take a small tray in her room and go to sleep early. She started down the steep, narrow steps to inform her aunt of her decision. Halfway down, she heard the front door close. The manservant was accepting the hat and gloves of a man in a dark coat who stood with his back to her. His height and the breadth of his shoulders reminded her of Mr. Darcy, and she scolded herself for allowing a man she would never see again to dominate her thoughts. Just then he turned around.

  It was Mr. Darcy, with a look of astonishment that no doubt mirrored her own. In shock, Elizabeth tripped over the next to last stair and reached out to the banister for support. Before she could steady herself, Mr.

  Darcy lunged forward and she felt warm hands grasp her waist. Mr. Darcy guided her down the last step until she stood only inches from him, her cheeks burning.

  She felt unable to breathe. Through a dry mouth, she said, “I think there is nothing so important for a lady as a graceful entrance, do you not agree?” His hands, resting on her hips, seemed to burn through her dress, and she felt a queer sensation in the pit of her stomach, as if she were still aboard the bouncing coach.

  He looked sterner than she remembered him being at Pemberley, but after a moment, she saw the corners of his lips twitch. “It was very kind of you, Miss Bennet, to arrange matters so that I would feel useful the moment I arrived.” He looked down, as if he had just realized his hands were still upon her, and removed them.

  Elizabeth could not tell if it was wishful thinking, but she thought he seemed reluctant to release her.

  It was not until that moment that she realized the oddity of the circumstance. What on earth was Mr. Darcy doing at her uncle’s house on Gracechurch Street? True, he had met Mr. Gardiner in Derbyshire, but such a trifling acquaintance between gentlemen of such differing circumstances could hardly be expected to be maintained in Town. For a dizzying moment she thought he must be there for her sake, but that could not be.

  He had been as astonished to see her there as she was to see him.

  Just then Mr. Gardiner came down the passageway to the entrance hall. “Darcy, I had not expected to see you so soon, but it is of course a pleasure.” He then took in Elizabeth’s presence and said quite unnecessarily, “Lizzy, I had not realized you were here yet. Welcome.” His eyes flicked back and forth from Elizabeth to Darcy and back again with a half-puzzled expression.

  Elizabeth realized both she and Mr. Darcy had the air of having been caught in some act of mischief, and she blushed even more furiously at what her uncle must be thinking. In an attempt at lightness, she said, “It seems to be my day to be surprised and surprising at every turn.”

  “Well, do come in, Darcy. Lizzy, how was your journey?”

  “It was quite free of difficulty,” she said, not wishing to have Mr. Darcy know that she had travelled alone by post. “I arrived about an hour ago.”

  Mr. Gardiner ushered them both into the sitting room. “I am glad you are here. It is good to be reminded that we have a sensible and well-mannered niece. We were in grave danger of forgetting that such a thing existed.”

  Elizabeth sent him a warning glance. Surely he was not going to discuss Lydia in front of Mr. Darcy, of all people.

  Darcy said, “Speaking of Miss Lydia, I believe that her intended will be arriving shortly to take her for a drive.”

  Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. How did he even know Lydia was there?

  “That will please her. She seems in better spirits, but is still not herself,” Mr. Gardiner responded, shaking his head. “Soon enough it will no longer be my responsibility.”

  Mr. Darcy seemed not at all surprised by these comments. Both men had the air of continuing an earlier conversation. To her amazement, Darcy crossed the room to the chair which was commonly Elizabeth’s during her visits. Self-consciously she seated herself on the sofa across from him.

  She jumped when he addressed her. “Miss Bennet, may I hope that you have left your parents in good health?”

  If this was to be a repeat of their first meeting at Pemberley, Elizabeth was prepared this time. With an arch smile, she said, “Yes, thank you. My parents are both in good health.” Their spirits were another matter, but fortunately he had not asked about that. “And Miss Darcy, is she well?”

  “Quite well. You seem to have made quite an impression on her while she was at Netherfield. And your sisters?”

  “They are also well. To the best of my knowledge, everyone in our immediate circle is in good health.”

  She gave him a teasing look, and could have sworn she saw his face redden.

  “Lizzy, you may speak freely in front of Mr. Darcy,” her uncle said. “He knows that all is not well.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open, then she quickly shut it. What was her uncle thinking? Discussing intimate family matters with Mr. Darcy? />
  “Miss Bennet, you may be assured that anything you say will be held in confidence,” Darcy said with a stiff formality.

  She darted a shocked glance at him. His sister must have told him the truth of what had happened to Lydia, but then why had he come to Gracechurch Street? She would have expected him to avoid it. “My mother is better since the recent news, and no longer keeps to her room all day. My father spends all his time in the library. Jane… well, Jane is suffering a certain amount of distress, but as usual, masks it from the world. Kitty has lost her spirits since being turned away from our neighbours’ houses. Mary is unchanged in essentials.”

  Mr. Gardiner nodded soberly. “I am not surprised. Your father’s letters these days are limited to brief instructions to me, so I have been concerned as to what he might not be telling me.”

  Elizabeth was sorely tempted to point out to her uncle that Mr. Bennet was not the only member of the family who had apparently been keeping his own counsel. She stole a glance at Mr. Darcy and discovered his eyes resting on her as they had so often in the past, but she could not make out his expression.

  Mrs. Gardiner bustled in with a tea tray. “Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy. I hope you will stay to dine with us?”

  “You have family visiting,” he said, gesturing toward Elizabeth. “I will not impose on your reunion.”

  Mrs. Gardiner lifted the teapot. “It would be no imposition. As you know, we have had the pleasure of Lizzy’s company quite recently.” She flashed a smile at Elizabeth. “It is a treat to see her again so soon. Our two eldest nieces are particularly dear to us.”

  “Then it will be my pleasure to join you.”

  So much for Elizabeth’s intentions of dining alone in her room! She was suddenly aware of the flaws in her appearance, her wrinkled and dusty travelling dress, her hair styled with the utmost simplicity, yet still slipping out of its constraints to curl upon her neck. It was not how she would have chosen to appear when meeting Mr.

  Darcy again. She still could not believe she was sitting in the same room as him. How she wished this opportunity had presented itself to her before Lydia’s disgrace! But there was no mending it now. She had recognized too late how well they would suit one another and that she would always feel an emptiness in her heart where he might have been. Even a continuing acquaintance was dubious, present circumstances notwithstanding.

  She accepted a cup of tea from her aunt, then watched as Mrs. Gardiner prepared Mr. Darcy’s cup, adding sugar without asking his preferences. As he thanked her with his usual gravity, Elizabeth’s mind returned to the puzzling question of what he was doing there. Clearly he had become a regular visitor in the weeks since the Gardiners had returned from Derbyshire, yet he came to call in the afternoon and without his sister. Her uncle seemed to treat him as an intimate, and he was even aware of Lydia’s presence. She wished that her sister’s shame could have been hidden from him, but it was too late for that once Mr. Bingley and Miss Darcy had appeared at Netherfield. It had been too much to hope that they would not tell him. At least his sister had apparently been correct when she said her brother would not deny the acquaintance, for what little comfort that might be. But it was beyond puzzling to see him pursuing the Gardiners’ company now. One might almost think he sought them out because of it!

  A wave of heat rushed over her as she realized that was exactly what had happened. Mr. Thomas Wickham had not in fact miraculously appeared out of nowhere and offered marriage to Lydia for an absurdly low financial remuneration. The miracle had a name and was sitting before her.

  Why, oh why had he done it? Why had he chosen to involve himself in a matter that was none of his business, one which required connection to the family of the man he most justly despised, and to have done all this for a girl he could neither regard or esteem? Her heart whispered it had been for her.

  A sudden hope filled her, a thought that it might still not be too late, that perhaps his admiration for her had withstood these impossible circumstances. But it was a hope shortly checked by other considerations, and she soon felt that even her vanity was insufficient, when required to depend on his affection for her—for a woman who had already refused him—as able to overcome a sentiment so natural as abhorrence against relationship with Wickham’s family. Every kind of pride must revolt from the connection. She could, perhaps, believe that remaining partiality for her might assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind must be materially concerned, but no more. It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know that they were under obligations to a person who could never receive a return. They owed the restoration of Lydia, her character, every thing, to him.

  How heartily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards him. For herself she was humbled; but she was proud of him. Proud that in a cause of compassion and honour, he had been able to get the better of himself. It was yet another proof of his worthiness and of her own grave mistake in refusing him when she had the opportunity. She found herself blinking back hot tears.

  “Lizzy, are you ill? You look quite pale,” her aunt said.

  She struggled to regain her composure, and was able to answer with a nearly steady voice. “No, not at all.

  It has been a long day, that is all.” No sooner had she said it than she regretted her words when she saw Mr.

  Darcy looking at her with deep concern. It was impossible to look away, impossible not to wish that she could gaze into his eyes forever. It was as if an invisible line connected them, one which no one but themselves could sense. She could see his breathing becoming uneven.

  She needed to look away, but she could not make herself do so until her uncle cleared his throat, reminding her of their circumstances. He said, “Perhaps you should rest while Mr. Darcy and I discuss our business in my study.” Was there an element of warning in his voice?

  She wondered exactly what part of the ‘business’ they needed to discuss, but she merely nodded and sipped her cooling tea.

  CHAPTER 15

  Darcy’s elation at the unexpected sight of Elizabeth - and the touch of her waist under his hands - warred with his mortification of her discovery of his part in her sister’s wedding. He had not intended her to know. He did not want her to credit him for it, and most especially he did not want her gratitude. No, gratitude was not what he wanted from Elizabeth Bennet at all. What he wanted was impossible and did not merit thinking about, though it seemed to preoccupy him both day and night despite all his efforts to discipline his errant thoughts.

  But it was not gratitude that he wished to see in her eyes. That was only a reminder of his shame.

  He placed the envelope from the solicitor on Mr. Gardiner’s desk. “This is the final copy of the settlement for your perusal.”

  “That was quick,” Mr. Gardiner observed. “I had not expected to see this until the end of the week.”

  “I was anxious to have it signed before either of the principals could change their minds.”

  Mr. Gardiner examined the paper, his finger running down the lines of text. “This seems well in order.”

  “I had not realized Miss Bennet knew of my involvement in these matters.” Darcy could not completely keep a reproach from his voice, since he had specifically requested that the Bennets be left in ignorance of his role.

  Mr. Gardiner looked up at him sharply. “I assumed you had made her aware of it.”

  “No.” Darcy’s voice was clipped.

  “You appear here unexpectedly within minutes of her arrival, and I am expected to believe this was complete coincidence? I am grateful to you for all your assistance, but I am not blind, nor a fool. I assure you that, even though I said nothing, my eyes were working perfectly well when I encountered the two of you in the hall, nor was I unaware of how you watched her at Pemberley.”

  Darcy flushed. “If you are implying that I was aware of her presence here, I assure you that I was not. It was a complete surprise to me. As fo
r the rest, Miss Bennet was startled to see me and lost her balance. I was helping to steady her.” His heart had barely stopped racing from it even now, and his hands could still feel the curves of her waist.

  Mr. Gardiner’s eyes narrowed. “May I inquire, then, as to the nature of your intentions toward my niece?”

  What had happened to his normal imperturbability? It had apparently been destroyed by breathing the scent of lavender in Elizabeth’s hair. But it was useless to deny his attraction to her. Mr. Gardiner had clearly already discovered it. “In as much as Miss Bennet does not look favourably upon me, it is safe to say that it does not matter what my intentions are, since they would come to naught. But I wish her no harm.” It was hard to force out the words when all he wished was to give Elizabeth everything she could desire for the rest of her life.

  Unfortunately for him, that meant he needed to stay away from her.