Earning Darcy's Trust

by Jennifer Joy

  “We will leave with Bingley in a month’s time. You had best start thinking of what to bring for we will stay through the winter.” He turned and left her room, closing the door behind him, wondering why Georgiana was so difficult.

  September crawled by with little to distinguish it. Darcy had taken Georgiana to their favorite library that morning where she spent happy hours looking through the books and selecting her favorites. Some were new; some were old friends. She even picked volumes of a more scholastic nature. When Darcy questioned her about them, she shrugged and said, “What else am I to do in the country but improve my mind through extensive reading.”

  It was a good reply, and it both pleased and concerned Darcy to see how gracefully she had resigned herself to going. Her mood had brightened over time as well, causing his concern to wane as time progressed. Darcy had even caught her coming close to a smile on a couple occasions. What he would give to see her face light up, her smile reaching her eyes and a laugh escaping her throat. It felt like an eternity since he had last seen her happy.

  They arrived home from the book store just as a boy stood in front of their door with an armful of hothouse flowers. Who would send flowers?

  The butler opened the door just as the footman opened their carriage door. He looked up at Darcy, then to Georgiana. Darcy did not need to read the note to know who the flowers were from. The butler’s face said it all. Their timing was unfortunate. Had they arrived one minute later, the butler could have disposed of the card and flowers properly. However, Georgiana had seen the blooms and ascended their steps more quickly than normal to see them.

  As Darcy suspected, the note was addressed to Georgiana. She read it at a glance.

  “Excuse me,” she said as she flung the note at Darcy, not stopping to see if he caught it or not. She ran up the steps, and Darcy heard the door to her room bang as it closed.

  Bending down to pick up the paper, Darcy saw what he had hoped not to see. It was from Wickham.

  My Princess,

  Do not give up on me. I will always love you.

  Yours,

  George

  The money must have dried up from the young lady they had seen him with at the theater.

  “I am sorry, sir. They came just as you arrived.” The butler bowed his head. Darcy had given the household strict orders about Wickham.

  “You did your best. It could not be helped, given the circumstances. I will see to her.”

  “I will get rid of these.” The butler hurried to the kitchen where the offensive blossoms would be out of sight from the young miss.

  There was silence behind Georgiana’s door.

  When the maid admitted him, he expected to see her crying on her chaise. Instead, she sat writing in her journal with such intense ferocity, Darcy suspected she had not heard him enter.

  He cleared his throat so as not to startle her. “Are you well, Georgiana?”

  She turned to face him and that is when he saw the streaks of tears on her cheeks. He stood next to her, resting his hand on her shoulder. She squished her cheek into it and sighed. Her tender reaction warmed Darcy’s heart.

  “I am afraid that if I tell you what I have written here, you would not approve. My feelings are so contradictory.”

  Darcy squeezed her shoulder and knelt down by her chair. “Georgie, I would hope that you could share every concern with me, so that I might make your burden lighter, but I would never force your confidence. Keep your journal. I will wait until you are able to speak.”

  More than anything at the moment, he wanted to wrestle the pages away from her and read them, thus allowing him a glimpse into the inner workings of a young lady’s broken heart. He was certain he could find a way to fix it— if only he had more information. He stood and walked over to a nearby chair, so he would not be tempted to peek at the writing on the pages.

  “I am glad we are to leave for Hertfordshire in a week’s time. I had gone almost a whole day without thinking of him when the flowers came. The note said he still loves me.” She twisted her hands in her dress.

  “Please, Georgie, tell me how I can help you.” How he wished Mother was there. Georgiana needed another female to confide in— and not Miss Bingley nor Mrs. Hurst, with whom they would be traveling the coming week.

  “You are kind, William, but I do not know what will help other than the passing of time… and perhaps some distance. The thing is, I still want to see him so badly. I know him to be insincere, but I cannot rid my heart of him completely.”

  She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “Meanwhile, I shall sort out my emotions on paper in this journal.” She picked up her pen.

  He could take a hint. “I will leave you to it, then. Call for me if you need anything.”

  Darcy suffered a sleepless week. Every night’s dream brought a new, tragic fate to Georgiana— something Darcy was powerless to prevent. He would have to watch as she was carried away and nothing he did changed the outcome.

  Finally, the day for them to leave London came and with it the anticipation of relief as they distanced themselves from Wickham. Darcy got into the coach with Georgiana for their trip to Bingley’s leased estate. They hoped to arrive early in the afternoon, so they left shortly after breaking their fast.

  Thunderclouds clamored in the skies and it poured rain. The inside of the coach was dry, but nothing could be seen out of the fogged glass. It was a storm the likes of which prevented conversation in the more comfortable interior of the carriage. Fat raindrops pelted the roof, the wheels creaked and splashed through the muddy roads, and the horses protested as much as the coachman yelled at them to carry on.

  Darcy wiped the glass with a blanket. After hours of sitting with nothing to occupy him, he was anxious to do something. Anything. Georgiana, at least, had been sensible enough to bring a book— though how she kept her place with the turbulence within the carriage was a miracle to him.

  Houses appeared in clusters. They were nearing a village. Darcy hoped it would be Meryton. He did not know how much longer he could endure the confines of the coach.

  “Whoa! Whoa!” he heard outside. They stopped moving. Darcy opened the door and poked his head outside. The torrential rain felt like someone poured a bucket of cold water over his head.

  The coachman was checking on one of the horses. It stood with one hoof up and out of the water, its shoe dangling in the air. When the coachman turned and saw Darcy, he trotted over to him.

  “The village is just ahead. The horse threw a shoe and it needs tended to.”

  “Is the village Meryton?”

  “Yes, sir. We will find a warm spot for you and Miss Darcy whilst we find the farrier.”

  “Very well. A fire sounds lovely, does it not?”

  “Aye,” the coachman said as he returned to his perch, and Darcy closed the door and sat back down.

  Georgiana handed him the blanket she had wrapped around her legs. It was warm and Darcy hugged it to his chest and wiped his face dry.

  “I do hope we do not begin our time here by you catching a chill, William.”

  Melancholy pierced his bones, but he smiled. “You looked just like Mother when she would chide me.”

  “She did not have many opportunities to do so. You were a perfect child. Unlike me.”

  “I made mistakes too, Georgie. You just do not know about them.”

  Her eyebrows shot up, and she sat forward in her seat. “Do tell!”

  Darcy tried to think of an instance, but he could not think of one severe enough to compare with her near elopement. It was a relief when they arrived to Meryton, and the coachman opened the door.

  The rain poured down in sheets, but they stood under a ledge leading into an inn. It appeared to be a respectable sort of place, so Darcy offered his arm to Georgiana.

  “We have not finished this conversation, dear brother.”

  “Oh, yes, we have. Let us seek out the warmth of a fire and talk of nothing but pleasant things.”


  She jerked his arm in protest, but Darcy could see that the thought of him making mistakes made her feel better. He would not ruin the moment. It was a matter of pride to him to have reached the age of twenty-eight without suffering any missteps, but he did wish he could have thought of just one to share with Georgiana. He was not Georgiana’s superior, but he had managed to avoid the errors of his peers.

  The inn was warm and smelled of ale and roast beef. Not many people were about, but those who were in the room looked at the newcomers with appraising eyes. One young man in particular caught Darcy’s attention. He had a shock of yellow hair under his cap and freckles dotted his face. Their eyes met and the young man was quick to look away. He seemed familiar to Darcy, but he could not quite place him before the young man turned around and tossed back the last of his ale.

  Darcy led Georgiana over to the warm fire after requesting a private room. The innkeeper came over, his feet shuffling and his hands wringing. The stormy weather had done damage to two of his upstairs bed chambers and the only private room available was being used to store the furniture. He kindly offered to move a table closer to the fire and away from the other benches so that they might enjoy a spot of tea while they waited. Darcy recognized that it was the best the innkeeper could do under the circumstances and thanked him for his consideration.

  Darcy tried to act normally, but everyone within the tavern watched their every move. It was difficult to relax. Georgiana stared into the fire and drank her tea, doing an excellent impression of seeming at ease when he knew her to be as shy as he was with new people.

  “William, I would feel more at ease if I had my book. Do you think the coach is far? I left it on my seat.”

  He had been in such a hurry to get Georgiana inside, he had not looked about before entering the inn. “I do not know, and I will not leave you here alone to find out.”

  “But suppose it is just across the street. You could fetch it and return in less than a minute.” She batted her lashes and looked up through them at him just like she had done since she was a small child. She knew how well it worked.

  Relenting to her wish, he said, “I will step outside to see our surroundings. I will not go beyond your sight through the windows. If I see the coach from there, then I will bring your book to you.”

  Darcy briskly walked to the entrance of the inn. The quicker he could return to his sister, the better. He did not wish to leave her unattended. It chafed his sense of propriety.

  The door burst in with a gust of wind as Darcy opened it. He leaned his head down, hunched his shoulders forward, and stepped outside.

  “Ouch!” a woman’s voice yelped as he bumped into something both soft and bony.

  Chapter 8

  “I do apologize, madam.” Darcy reached down to hold the lady’s arm and steady her. She had chosen the wrong bonnet for such a rainy day. It sunk in the front, and the flowers adorning it looked as if they were too discouraged to fight against the incessant showers, bowing their blooms in despair of sunshine. A drop of water fell from the tip of her ear and landed on her collar bone where it trailed down a tendril of hair.

  “Sir, I am steady now. You can let go.” She tugged her arm and Darcy felt like a fool for gawking at her as long as he had.

  “Please forgive me. I did not see you.”

  “Apparently.” Brushing off the front of her dress and embracing a package wrapped in brown paper, the young lady replied, “I am aware that I am short, sir, but I have never had anybody attempt to step on top of me until today. You are new to town, I take it, and so I will forgive you. I only beg that it not occur again.”

  Darcy stepped back at her reproof. A dimple appeared on her cheek and her eyes looked like Georgie’s had the day Darcy took her to the book store and told her she could fill a trunk. Only, this young woman was laughing at him. Nobody had laughed at Darcy since… He could not remember when.

  “Now it is my turn to apologize, sir. Here we have not been properly introduced, and I am teasing you most mercilessly.” The dimple in her cheek deepened and her eyes danced in merriment.

  Darcy found his voice once he caught his breath. “A fault for a fault. Can we come to a truce?” He bowed deeply and introduced himself. There was no one else to do it, and the situation had gone beyond awkward.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Darcy. I am Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn.” She curtsied and looked around. “It has been lovely to make your acquaintance, Mr. Darcy, but I really must be going. My aunt is expecting me.”

  “Is her house far?”

  Cocking her head to the side and knitting her brows, she said, “Thank you for your interest, but she lives a short distance away.”

  Darcy shook his head. Everything he said came out wrong. He did not want to appear too eager to help Miss Bennet, though he gladly would have done so. “I ask so that my sister and I might offer you a ride in our carriage and spare you from the rain.” He congratulated himself on his gentlemanly offer.

  Miss Bennet looked around, then back to Darcy, her brow furrowing. “I see neither a sister nor a carriage.”

  “My carriage is at the farrier’s. One of the horses threw a shoe. I expect it back shortly. My sister is inside the inn.” Why did he have to explain himself?

  She looked beyond him through the doorway, which stood open still, but only empty benches were visible, the fireplace being too far to one side to see. Again, he felt the need to explain, but bit his tongue. This was absurd.

  “It sounds as if you have enough concerns of your own without worrying about my safety. I thank you for the offer, Mr. Darcy, but my aunt really does live rather close. Good day.”

  And just like that she was gone.

  Darcy stepped back into the inn. He had not reached his objective of looking at his surroundings. Miss Bennet had occupied his whole concentration so that he forgot why he had gone outside in the first place until he sat down by the fire and Georgiana looked at him with a grin. He stayed put, not wanting to make more of a scene than he already had by getting up and braving the rough weather outside yet again.

  Georgiana giggled from her chair. “You do know how to make a lasting first impression, William. Poor thing, you fairly trampled her down with your big boots.”

  “You saw?” Darcy would have slumped in his chair, but he strove to avoid such an undignified posture. Instead he sat taller, stiffening his back. Try as he might, he could not keep the heat from crawling up his neck and into his cheeks.

  “Of course. Everybody must have seen from the window before you moved out of view.”

  Darcy grimaced. “Her name was Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I suppose you will meet her before long. She had a quick tongue and a sharp wit. She took me so much by surprise, I had difficulty speaking with her.”

  “Really?” Georgiana looked at him out of the corner of her eye, a mischievous arch to her brow. Darcy grimaced. She must have noticed his reddened complexion. “And were you able to see the coach from the doorway? I daresay this Miss Bennet pushed my book from your mind completely.”

  The coach pulled up then, saving Darcy from having to reply. He left some coins on the table— more than enough to pay for their tea.

  When Darcy failed to speak, Georgiana continued, “I look forward to meeting Miss Bennet. I have yet to meet a lady who has made such a strong impression on you in such a short time.”

  “Impression? I hardly know her. I prefer to form my opinions once I know an individual better.”

  “That suits me well. I should enjoy getting to know this individual of whom you speak very much.” She laughed openly at him.

  That made the second time that day that he had been laughed at. He was not sure he liked Miss Bennet and the effect she had on his sister— and they had yet to meet.

  Elizabeth thought of Mr. Darcy all the way to Aunt Phillips’ house. There was a man who took himself too seriously. Whether it was his natural character or a result of their awkward meeting, Elizabeth did not know, but it would be interesti
ng to find out. If anybody knew anything about anyone, it was Aunt Phillips.

  Elizabeth sat in the chair nearest the fire and removed her ruined bonnet. She would have to ask Kitty if it was beyond repair. If such a miracle were possible, Kitty would make it happen.

  Aunt Phillips rustled into the room. She could have been Mother’s twin in appearance and manners. “Lizzy, I had not thought you would venture out in this detestable weather. Suppose you catch cold before the Meryton Assembly. You are handsome, but even you would be hard-pressed to find a dance partner to overlook a swollen, red nose.”

  “How pleasant to see you too, Aunt. I had hoped the rain would let up long enough for me to get the books I have been waiting for. You know how difficult it is to acquire anything new.”

  “If the rain persists, I will send you home in my carriage or Fanny will never forgive me. Sending her daughter home drenched to the bone…” She clucked her tongue and settled into a chair next to Elizabeth.

  “I do have some news you might be interested in.” Elizabeth paused.

  Aunt looked at her impatiently. After a few seconds, she clucked her tongue again and sighed. “How exasperating you can be, Lizzy. Your sisters never tease me so. Jane is too kind to even listen to anything contrary. Mary is too righteous and feels it is a sin. Kitty never notices anything worth repeating, and Lydia notices everything and repeats it in such a flurried fashion, I have to ask her to slow down.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “I shall not make you wait any longer then. On my way here, I crossed in front of the inn when I ran into— quite literally— a gentleman I had not seen before. He introduced himself as Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. He said he is here with his sister.”

  Aunt Phillips wiggled in her chair, smacking her lips together, and crossing her fingers one way, then the other. “You are a fortunate girl. Oh, your mother will be so pleased.” She rubbed her hands and clasped them together.

  “What do you know about the Darcys? I have heard the name before, but I cannot remember where or why.”