Mr. Darcy's Letter

by Abigail Reynolds

  She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure.

  “He could be still amiable, still pleasing, to my uncle and aunt; and why not to me? If he fears me, why approach me? If he no longer cares for me, why speak to me as he did? Teazing, teazing, man! I will think no more about him.”

  Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by the approach of her aunt, who was more satisfied by the ending of the morning than Elizabeth had been. “I thought Mr. Darcy looked quite well, did you not, Lizzy?”

  “I was surprised that he left without a word to us.”

  “Your uncle said he had urgent business.”

  “So urgent he could not take a minute to bid us good day?”

  Her aunt gave her a keen look. “Perhaps he may have had another reason. I saw he was speaking to you immediately after the wedding.”

  Elizabeth’s cheeks grew warm as she recalled how he had refused her thanks. He wanted nothing from her, not even that. That he still had feelings for her she did not doubt, but she was equally certain he was ashamed of them. “We exchanged a few words.”

  “Do you plan to call on his sister?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I would not feel right doing so, not after what happened. If he did not want to be with us, I cannot imagine he still wishes her to be in my company. Besides, it would be most uncomfortable trying to explain my presence in London to her. She has been honest and kind to me; I do not wish to repay her with deception.”

  “But is she not already aware of Lydia’s original elopement?”

  “Yes, but I do not think her brother likely to tell her of the eventual outcome.” And then there was the true reason she did not wish to call at the Darcy townhouse. It would hurt too much to see Mr. Darcy again.

  CHAPTER 16

  “Welcome home, sir,” said Briggs, the footman who greeted Darcy at the door.

  Darcy handed over his hat and stripped off his gloves. He had resolved today would be different from every other day in the last week. Every day when he came home, he had asked whether his sister had received any callers, eagerly at first, and then later without much expectation. If Elizabeth were planning to call on Georgiana, she would have done so by now. After he had explicitly invited her to do so, it was practically a snub. Her feelings were clear.

  He slapped his gloves down on the side table. “I will be in my study,” he said brusquely.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He would not ask. He was determined. All the way home from White’s he had planned it out. Briggs was no doubt already wondering why his master kept asking him about callers. He would not give him any more reason to wonder.

  “Will there be anything else, sir?” Briggs asked.

  “Not tonight.” He forced the words out through gritted teeth. He would not ask about Elizabeth, no matter how much he longed to see her.

  “Very well, sir,” Briggs said to his already retreating back.

  Darcy made it almost to his study before he expelled a deep breath. Defeated, he looked over his shoulder. “Briggs? Were there any callers for my sister today?”

  Briggs looked up from the gloves he was folding neatly. “No, sir. Miss Darcy has spent the day practicing her music and conversing with Mrs. Annesley.”

  Darcy jerked his head in an abrupt nod, pretending it did not hurt, at least until he had closed the study door behind him.

  ***

  Bingley did not look happy to be receiving a caller, but he poured two glasses of port and handed one to Darcy with a stiff smile. “Cheers,” he said.

  Darcy nodded in acknowledgement. “I am glad to see you in good health. I was worried when you seemed never to come to White’s.”

  His friend shifted from one foot to the other. “Darcy, I must apologize for my behaviour when we met last. I do not fully recall what I said to you that night when your sister and I returned from Netherfield.” He paused for a moment as if the name were difficult to say. “But I imagine it was the usual drivel I say when I have had too much to drink. It is not something I am in the habit of.”

  “I am perfectly aware of that, and you said nothing inappropriate. Do not give it another thought. My only surprise was that you did not fall ill in the carriage.”

  Bingley, seeming relieved, took a sip of port and lounged in a tall leather chair. “There were moments when I thought I would. But the spirits were medicinal in that particular case. My sister was being unusually unpleasant about subjects I had no wish to discuss.”

  Darcy could imagine all too well what Miss Bingley might have had to say about the Bennet family in general and Jane Bennet in particular. “I am glad I was not there.”

  “I wish I had not been there either.”

  “Will you come to White’s with me?”

  Bingley thought for a moment and then shook his head. “I am not in the mood for that sort of joviality.”

  So Bingley was, as expected, still pining. Darcy would have to take action. “Did you happen to read this morning’s newspaper?”

  “There was nothing in it to interest me.”

  “Do you have a copy? There is something I would like to show you.”

  “There is one somewhere, I am sure.” Bingley rang the bell and instructed the manservant to fetch the newspaper. “If it is about the Peninsular War, I am not interested.”

  Darcy raised an eyebrow. “You would prefer to read about the latest goings-on around Town?”

  Bingley groaned. “Spare me.”

  The man returned, paper in hand. Darcy took it from him, holding it carefully by the edges to avoid smudging the print. He opened it to the marriage announcements and folded it back to display part of one column, then held it in front of Bingley. On the off-chance that Bingley’s malaise was sufficient to keep him from reading even that much, Darcy pointed to the announcement that read, “Lately, Captain Thomas Wickham, to Miss Lydia Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire.”

  Bingley grabbed the newspaper in apparent disbelief. “Is this true?”

  “So it would seem.”

  “But everyone said he had abandoned her.” He apparently did not notice that Captain Wickham’s Christian name had changed.

  “Perhaps there was a misunderstanding, or he changed his mind,” Darcy prevaricated. “In any case, they are wed now.”

  Bingley dropped the newspaper and sank back in his chair. “Thank God for that. I have been out of my mind with worry for Jane. I will sleep easier now.”

  “Will you return to Netherfield?”

  He sat up straighter. “I could, couldn’t I?” he said with his first hint of liveliness.

  “You still hold the lease to the house, so I imagine you can do whatever you please.”

  “So I can. I can go back. Jane loves me, I know she does. She as much as said it, that last day. She said she could not bear to harm my name. Can you imagine such a woman?”

  Only one woman haunted Darcy’s imagination, but he was not about to say that. “She is very honourable, then.”

  “Wait until I tell her….” Slowly the animation left Bingley’s face. He placed his glass down carefully on a side table.

  “What is it?”

  “I cannot do it. I cannot marry her.”

  “Why not?”

  “For all the reasons Jane gave me then. I am sure this marriage will help restore the family’s good name to some degree, but it will not be enough. Too many people know that her sister was seduced and abandoned, even if a marriage was eventually patched up somehow. It would never have been an equal match between Jane and me. She is a gentleman’s daughter, but her mother is not, and now the family name is tainted.”

  “I cannot believe you would let such things stop you!”

  “They are the very things you once quoted to me as arguments against the marriage! If it were only me, I would not care. But there is Caroline to think of. If I were to marry Jane Bennet now, it would hurt her marital prospects substantially. She would lose the tiny bit of acceptance she has gained in the
ton. I cannot condemn her to an impoverished future for my own selfish gain. Then there is the matter of any children we would have.

  My father wanted me to purchase an estate and become a landed gentleman of sorts, to marry advantageously, and to continue to rise in the world. He would have wanted his grandchildren to be accepted everywhere among the finest people. He spent his entire life working for that. But the children of the son of a tradesman, however well-to-do, and a poor disgraced gentlewoman would not be accepted anywhere. I cannot do it. Our situation in society is too precarious.”

  “Think, man,” Darcy urged. “Are your father’s dreams more important to you than your own? He is dead, and you are alive.”

  “Caroline is alive as well,” Bingley said miserably. “Can you honestly say that I have the right to ruin her prospects? She has acted as my hostess for years, and took care of me before that. Is this how I should repay her? Is that the act of a gentleman?”

  Darcy rubbed his hand across his brow. He had been so certain Bingley would return to Jane Bennet, but the points his friend made were difficult to contradict. It would hurt Bingley’s standing, though perhaps not as much as he thought given the size of his fortune, but the impact on Miss Bingley, who had yet to make her fortune through marriage, would be much larger. Her dowry was not large enough to compensate for the inferior connections she would bring. But a marriage between Bingley and Jane Bennet would guarantee Elizabeth’s future, at least enough so that he need never worry that she would not have a roof over her head. A year ago he had talked Bingley out of marrying Miss Bennet, mostly for his own benefit. Was he pushing Bingley into the same marriage now for his friend’s benefit, or was it again his own interests speaking? “Perhaps the impact on the Bennet family name will not be as severe as you think.”

  “Last autumn, before the scandal, you told me it was an inappropriate marriage. It has only become worse since then.”

  The devilish part was that he knew Bingley was right. “You must do as you see fit, then,” he said heavily.

  He drained his glass of port, not even tasting the fine wine as it went down his throat.

  “Yes, I must.” Bingley’s expression was bleak. “I beg your pardon, Darcy, but I am not in a proper frame of mind for company. Perhaps we could meet again tomorrow.”

  Darcy stood. He had done nothing but give his friend a moment of false hope, and he had experience enough with lost hope to understand the cruelty of it. “Of course. I will wish you a good evening, then.” He knew that his own evening would be spent in bitter self-recrimination.

  ***

  Briggs entered Darcy’s dim study silently, holding a silver tray bearing a card. Darcy was not unhappy to be interrupted; he could not keep his mind on the letter he was attempting to write in any case. It was hard to describe the events of the last month to his uncle without mention of any of the happenings most significant to him. In the first page he had found nothing more interesting to communicate than the weather in London and a list of acquaintances he had seen at White’s. Was that all there was to be in his life now?

  He picked up the card with a sigh. It was not a familiar one, so he held it in the lamplight. Mr. Edward Gardiner. His heart began to gallop. Mr. Gardiner had never called on him before; it had always been the other way around. “Is the gentleman alone?” he asked brusquely, unsure what answer he desired.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Now that he possessed the answer, he was disappointed. “Show him in.” No doubt it was nothing more than some unfinished piece of business relating Elizabeth’s sister’s wedding. He set his pen in its stand and put the letter to one side.

  Mr. Gardiner entered, looking more the amiable gentleman he had met at Pemberley than the stressed businessman trying to secure his errant niece’s future, so presumably nothing catastrophic had happened. That at least was something for which to be grateful. Darcy rose and bowed to his guest. “Mr. Gardiner, it is a pleasure to see you again.”

  “I hope I am not disturbing you, Mr. Darcy. If you have business to attend to, I can call another time.” He gestured to the half-finished letter.

  “Not at all. My mind was wandering and I am glad of the distraction. Will you sit down and join me in a glass of brandy?

  “Thank you, that would be quite refreshing. This grey, chilly weather becomes tiresome after a time.”

  Darcy poured two snifters of brandy and handed one to his guest, then took a seat across from him. “Your health.”

  Mr. Gardiner sniffed the brandy appreciatively and took a sip, rolling it around in his mouth. “You have fine taste in brandy, sir.”

  “I am the beneficiary of my cousin in the military, who has an unusual aptitude for acquiring goods smuggled from France. He knows I have a weakness for French brandy.”

  “Thank you for sharing it, then.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Mr. Darcy, you have no doubt guessed that this is slightly more than a social call. I was hoping to ask your advice on certain matter.”

  Darcy experienced a moment of unpleasant surprise. In his experience, a statement such as that was usually the preliminary to request for financial assistance. He had thought better of Mr. Gardiner. (”I am at your service.”

  “You had excellent insight and better luck than I in persuading my niece Lydia into a marriage when she was refusing to consider such a thing. Now I find myself facing another young woman in difficulties regarding matters of the heart, and could benefit from any thoughts you might have on the matter.”

  Darcy blinked in surprise. “I am hardly an expert on the emotions of women. They are a mystery to me.”

  He was tempted to tell him to ask Elizabeth just how inexpert he was, but he was trying to forswear bitterness.

  “As they are to us all! If I could make sense of them, this would be much simpler. But the ladies do not tell us their mysteries, do they? Of course, gentlemen can be equally mysterious on matters of the heart. In this case, I am baffled by both. The young lady is obvious in her interest in the gentleman, at least to those who know her well, but tells my wife that he wishes nothing whatsoever to do with her. This does not seem in keeping with the behaviour of gentleman in question, who is clearly overflowing with admiration for the young lady, yet does not speak.”

  “If you are speaking of my friend Mr. Bingley, I am afraid I have no assistance to offer. I have already spoken with him at length about Miss Bennet, but despite his heart, he is constrained by other measures.”

  Mr. Gardiner raised an eyebrow. “I am sorry to hear that, but it is not in fact my niece Jane of whom I am speaking. This is a more peculiar case, wherein the gentleman claims that the young lady dislikes him. Both the lady and gentleman are usually rational and insightful people, but in this particular instance, each seems almost willfully blind to the other’s sentiments, yet each is suffering. I am at a loss as to how I might assist them, if at all.”

  Darcy could not see how he could possibly be of any help in such a matter, but for the sake of politeness, did his best. “Have you spoken with both of them?”

  “My wife has spoken with the young lady, who still appears inclined to put the worst reading on the matter.

  Although I have great respect for the gentleman in question, I do not know him sufficiently well to raise such an intimate matter, at least not directly.”

  “Have you tried addressing it indirectly?”

  Mr. Gardiner gave him a significant look. “You might say so, but I do not believe he understood me properly. He seems equally inclined to believe the matter to be hopeless.”

  “It sounds as if you have done all that is in your power, and if an answer is to come, it must come from the principals.”

  Mr. Gardiner shook his head sadly as he swirled his brandy. “You are no doubt correct, no matter how difficult it may be to watch my dear Lizzy crying her pretty eyes out.”

  Darcy stiffened. “Elizabeth is in love?” Emotions warred within him. He would kill any man who hurt Elizabeth,
but he would also happily kill any other man who looked at her. It was one thing to forswear her when she did not want him; it was something else entirely to think of her with someone else.

  “Forgive me, I should not have mentioned her name. Please forget that you heard it.”

  Only reflexive manners allowed Darcy to nod in response. How could any man fortunate enough to win Elizabeth’s affections be so foolish as to let her go? Even if he thought she did not care for him, would he not at least try to convince her otherwise? He would do anything for her sake!

  Then it hit him with the force of a galloping horse. The room seemed to swim before him until it dissolved into the image of Mr. Gardiner’s probing eyes. “I see,” he managed to say in a strangled voice.

  “Do you?” the older gentleman remarked mildly.