Earning Darcy's Trust

by Jennifer Joy

  She glared at him, no doubt looking for another way to misjudge his thoughts and intentions.

  Darcy said, “I do not judge you so harshly as you do me. I could never do so when you saved Georgiana from embarrassment last night. I am grateful to you for your thoughtfulness toward my sister. Now, might I ask if there is anything Miss Bennet might need without giving further offense?”

  Miss Elizabeth bit her lip, looked down at her shoe, and shook her head.

  “Is there anything you need?” Darcy asked in a softer tone.

  She looked up. The fire in her eyes had died down.

  “I am sorry, Mr. Darcy. Father always tells me never to speak of important subjects or make decisions when I am tired, hungry, or overly emotional.”

  “Sage advice. I shall try to remember that.”

  “Only it is difficult to pay it heed when under duress— as this morning’s display shows.”

  “Think of it no more. It is forgotten. I thought you were very clever to divert Miss Bingley last night with your… performance. Was that just a show, or do you really play so poorly?” He grinned until his teeth showed.

  It was nice to see her smile. He was growing accustomed to it.

  “If only it were a show. I might have exaggerated slightly to help Miss Darcy feel more at ease, for I am certain she will be asked again. My hope is that she will not be as nervous when she knows there is a dearly incapable player in the room.”

  “You were willing to humiliate yourself for Georgiana?”

  “I would not use the word ‘humiliate’ so easily, sir.”

  “Do you prefer ‘shame’ or ‘embarrass’?” A chuckle escaped his lips. She was fun to tease because she rose to the challenge.

  “I think ‘humble’ is preferable. It sounds much more honorable.”

  “That it does and I think it far more appropriate. Georgiana is shy and lacks confidence in her abilities.”

  “She reminds me of Jane. Both of them are too good; too kind. While it makes them the best of friends, it also means they are vulnerable.”

  Darcy opened his mouth, but he did not know what to say. At Ramsgate, Wickham had attempted to exploit the very weakness Miss Elizabeth mentioned, coming so near to ruining Georgiana that the memory took his breath away. He did not trust himself to speak. What could he say without revealing too much?

  “Mr. Darcy, have I said something wrong? I do have a talent for upsetting you, as you do me.”

  “No, Miss Elizabeth. I am in admiration at how well you understand my sister when you have known her such a short amount of time. It has been my life’s purpose to protect Georgiana from those who would take advantage of her.”

  “That is a daunting task. I could never do so with Jane. She would appreciate my concern and she would never voice her opinion, but she would eventually resent me for it.”

  “You are not your sister’s guardian.”

  “Of course, your circumstances differ greatly. I am certain your sister loves your constant vigilance.” The sarcasm in her tone was unmistakable and made him want to prove her wrong yet again.

  “They are different. She was only four years old when our father was murdered on Pemberley property. After Mother died five years later, I have been her guardian and protector. I intend to prevent her from suffering any more than she already has.”

  “I am sorry for your loss. I love my family deeply and would mourn the loss of any one of them. I did not mean to make light of your intentions, Mr. Darcy. I have no doubt but that they are the best for a young man who has had such responsibilities thrust upon him. I only question how Miss Darcy sees them now that she is of the age where she will very soon have to make decisions on her own.”

  Darcy was quiet. He had wondered the same thing, but he would not admit it to Miss Elizabeth. Not yet.

  “Yoo hoo!” called Miss Bingley from behind them. Darcy looked back. They had not walked far, spending most of their energy arguing instead of in exercise.

  “You are early to rise this morning, Mr. Darcy. I suppose it is a common custom in the country, Miss Eliza, there being nothing else to keep you up at night? I have decided that whilst here, I shall partake of the fresh, morning air. How lovely you can accompany me on a turn about the garden.” She extended her arm out to Darcy. The path was only wide enough for two.

  “Your timing, Miss Bingley, is perfect. I have some letters to attend to and can now depart knowing that you can keep each other company.” He bowed and took his leave before either lady could protest.

  He chuckled to himself all the way up to the writing desk in his room. He did not know Miss Elizabeth very well yet, but he knew for a certainty that she would rather spend time with anyone rather than Miss Bingley. He knew he would be made to pay for what he just did, and he wondered how she would do it.

  Elizabeth watched Mr. Darcy’s retreating figure as the morning fog swallowed him up. Coward! She enjoyed Miss Bingley’s presence just as much as she hated Brussels sprouts and he knew it. Did she not see the corner of his mouth curve upward as he left? The cad!

  “So, it is just you and I. What were you doing walking alone with Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley raised herself to her full height, her neck straining with the effort.

  Elizabeth was used to people towering over her. She had not been blessed with height.

  Not intimidated, she replied, “I was walking alone when he joined me. I believe his sole purpose was to ensure I not offend society’s restrictions and thus prove a bad influence on his sister. I am sure you saw his valet with us, ensuring no compromise of propriety.”

  Miss Bingley took a step forward. “You are no match for Mr. Darcy. I advise you to keep your distance.”

  Elizabeth stood her ground. She would allow nobody to bully her— even Mr. Bingley’s pernicious sister.

  “I have no interest in ensnaring a husband like Mr. Darcy. As far as I am concerned, you may have him— that is, if he will have you.” She turned on her heel and returned to the house to check on Jane’s condition.

  Chapter 13

  The next day, Elizabeth found Mr. Darcy and Georgiana in the library. She had been up most of the night and her eyes burned from lack of sleep.

  “How is Jane?” asked Georgiana, who had begun to use Elizabeth’s first name on her insistence. Georgiana was such a mixture of herself and Jane— with all the sweet-tempered manners of Jane and the independent streak of Elizabeth— they had become fast friends since their first meeting at the Meryton Assembly.

  “Jane is asleep. Finally.” Elizabeth fell into a chair, her eyes scanning the shelves.

  “Would you not rather rest?” asked Mr. Darcy.

  “Do I really look so tired? I must appear quite a fright.”

  “How is it you twist my concern for your well-being into a slight against your appearance?” he retorted.

  Georgiana looked between the two of them, her jaw ajar. Teasing Mr. Darcy was too much fun and, in Elizabeth’s opinion, he needed more of it. Though he had relaxed somewhat in her presence, he still took himself much too seriously. For Georgiana’s sake, she would play nice.

  “This is my favorite place. I find the presence of books comforting. This room, though sparsely populated for its proportions, makes me feel as if I am surrounded by friends. Besides, I have been reading aloud to Jane and need to select a new novel. Something to distract her from her discomfort.”

  Georgiana brightened up. “Mr. Bingley’s library is still sorely lacking, but I have a trunk full of novels in my room. You may have your pick.”

  “What heaven! A trunk of novels! However did the footmen wrestle such a heavy object onto the coach or wrangle it up the stairs, I wonder?” She laughed and was pleased to see that Mr. Darcy did also. She had thought him handsome before, but she was unprepared for how his face lit up when he smiled. Her face felt warm and she was glad to have the excuse of laughter to cover it. She could never fall in love with someone as high and mighty as Mr. Darcy. For one, he would have nothing to
do with her. He would only be kind to her for his sister’s sake and because he could not be rid of her company with Jane occupying a sickbed in his host’s house.

  He stopped laughing and sat looking at her— inspecting her like he could read her thoughts.

  She needed to get out of the room. Her laughter had died down, but her face still felt warm. She feared she had no control over her complexion so long as she was so near Mr. Darcy and she dreaded him noticing her blush.

  “I have some time. Would it be dreadfully impolite of me to ask to see the books now? So that I might have something to share with Jane?”

  Georgiana rose and Mr. Darcy went back to the newspaper he had been reading. He unfolded the paper so that it covered him entirely and immersed himself in his reading, not even looking up when they left.

  What a relief it was that she was gone. Darcy felt his guard slipping toward Miss Elizabeth, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. Truth be told, excitement filled the room whenever she was near. He never knew what she would say or how she would react, and the constant guessing which should have been tiresome, was in fact… delightful. Darcy had not allowed himself much fun in a long time.

  He was still in a mostly pleasant state of mind when Miss Bingley entered the room with Mrs. Hurst. They acted surprised to see him. He wondered how many rooms they had searched before finding him in the library.

  Mrs. Hurst selected a book from the shelf too quickly to have been aware of its content and plunked down in a chair opposite him. Perhaps she would be one of the few women of his acquaintance to understand the Latin text she had chosen. He doubted it though.

  Miss Bingley made more of a show of selecting her book, arching her back and stretching her arm to reach a volume on an upper shelf. Darcy endured a minute of her posing before putting aside his paper to grab the book for her. Her bare fingers touched his hand as she took it with a coy smile. Darcy could not prevent a shiver as he snapped his hand out of reach and returned to the safety behind his paper.

  Miss Bingley either had forgotten how to read or she was so engrossed in her own thoughts for five minutes after she sat down to read that she had yet to turn a single page. She eventually gave up her endeavor, snapping the book shut and glaring toward the door Miss Elizabeth had exited a quarter of an hour previously.

  “How edifying to spend a few quiet minutes improving one’s mind. Do you not agree, Mr. Darcy?”

  “Literature is the food of the soul, and it is best appreciated in a quiet setting.” He raised his paper again, spreading it out as widely as it would go in an attempt to avoid further questionings.

  Mrs. Hurst chimed in. “I believe that is the disadvantage of young women who grow up in the country. They do not have access to libraries and museums. They are rather closed off from culture.”

  “And civilization! Do not tell me but that the state of Miss Eliza’s hems is positively savage. Really, with her limited income, she should take more care. I even saw that the collar on her coat had been turned.”

  The two ladies chuckled at Miss Elizabeth’s inferior income.

  Darcy had tried to ignore their conversation, but he abhorred gossip, especially unflattering gossip made when the individual referred to was not present in the room to defend herself. And Miss Elizabeth would defend herself well, Darcy had no doubt.

  “All young ladies, be they affluent or not, should learn such forms of economy. It is admirable. No fortune is so secure that it might not disappear from one day to the next,” he said.

  “Caroline is talented with a needle. She would be the finest dressed pauper were such a drastic turn of events to take place.”

  Miss Bingley added to her sister’s compliment. “I hardly think traipsing about in the mud out of doors as she does in the morning is an example of good economy. I would not dare allow myself to be seen in such a wild state.”

  “If a lady is to choose between impeccable clothing and the benefits of fresh air and exercise, I would hope she would choose to muddy her hem.” He lifted his paper up again, thinking he had made his point and the chatter might cease.

  Bingley and Mr. Hurst entered the room then. The ladies continued to cluck between themselves and included the newcomers of the room in their musings. Of what purpose was a library if it was used the same as a sitting room?

  Miss Bingley asked, “What do you think, Charles? If a lady has a limited wardrobe, is it not in her best interest to take greater care of her garments?”

  “I should say so. It is a matter of course.”

  Mrs. Hurst continued, “Such sensibility is sorely lacking in these small villages. Any lady wishing to represent an established family would do well to care more for her appearance. I admire Caroline for holding to the same standard of excellence in her attire— though we be far from town and her many admirers.” She faced her sister, but she looked at Darcy from the corner of her eye.

  Giving up, Darcy folded the paper and set it on the table next to him.

  Bingley looked confused. “I have found the young ladies of Meryton and its surrounding estates quite charming. There is a brightness to their cheeks the ladies who spend all day in the parlors of their grand townhouses lack.”

  Miss Bingley gasped. “They are completely without culture. You would be hard-pressed to find an accomplished lady here.”

  Muttering to himself, Bingley said, “I rather thought I had.”

  Unfortunately for him, he had not spoken low enough. Darcy heard. And so did Miss Bingley.

  “You cannot be serious, Charles,” she said in disgust.

  He did not say anything, only sat quietly as his face flushed a deep red.

  Mrs. Hurst looked around the room for unwelcome listeners. “Do not speak such things aloud. Imagine if you had been overheard by someone who does not hold your future prospects in the highest regard, as Caroline and I do. You ought to be more cautious lest some poor gentleman’s daughter with nothing to recommend her entraps you.”

  Bingley cowed in his chair, looking like a chastised little boy.

  The harpies were quick to change the subject to more polite conversation, but Darcy had had enough. He refused to listen to empty prattle and unfounded opinions.

  Excusing himself, he went upstairs in search of Georgiana. He found her inscribing her deepest thoughts in her journal, writing with such intensity, she did not look up as he passed her room.

  He paused as he walked by Miss Bennet’s sickroom. The door was closed, but if he listened closely, he could hear the lively tone of Miss Elizabeth reading. Darcy smiled and continued down the hallway.

  After four days, Miss Bennet’s fever broke. Georgiana spent a good deal of time attending to her with Miss Elizabeth. Giggles and chatter were often heard outside the bedchamber door.

  Bingley, too, acted as an exceptional host. He would send things he thought would help Miss Bennet feel more comfortable and help her regain her strength.

  Darcy sat in the drawing room, doing his best to be civil and catch up on his correspondence. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst hung around, preferring his company over that of the Bennet sisters, though he had done nothing to encourage them to linger.

  Bingley joined them from a quick trip up to check on Miss Bennet’s health. He was all smiles when he entered the room.

  “Miss Bennet is improved?” Darcy asked, though Bingley’s happy state gave the answer clearly enough.

  “Yes, very much, though she is weak. Do you have any thoughts on what can help her gain her strength?”

  “I think your housekeeper to be the best person to ask, Bingley. Not me. I am glad for her recovery.”

  Miss Bingley harrumphed. “Me too. It is a shame her family has such low manners. I find her quite genteel and, if it were not for her atrocious sisters and mother, she would be an edifying influence on Miss Georgiana.”

  Darcy tried to continue his correspondence, but he had to put his quill pen down. Bingley looked flustered.

  “I think Miss Bennet is exactly what a yo
ung lady ought to be. She is a gentleman’s daughter after all and I do not think it fair to compare her with others, Caroline.”

  “Others? One cannot escape the influence of family. Can you imagine the poor gentleman who marries into the Bennet family?” she scoffed.

  Darcy imagined the poor gentleman to marry into the Bingley family. He would forever view Bingley as a friend, but his indecisiveness and lack of control in his own household disturbed him.

  Darcy could not remain silent. “I must agree with Bingley. You do have a point in that the family’s manners are abominable. However, it is unjust to hold Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth accountable for their actions. It is a testament to their good character that they have resisted the negative influences which have surrounded them since birth to become charming young ladies.”

  Miss Bingley had nothing to say after that neat speech. Bingley beamed from his chair, and Darcy reminded himself to consult with Georgiana about Miss Bennet’s views toward Bingley. He would not have his friend’s heart broken by forming an attachment with a disinterested lady. Miss Bennet had been pleasant company thus far, despite her illness, but her manners toward Bingley had not convinced Darcy that she felt any more regard for him than she did for any other gentleman of her acquaintance.

  “Well, that may be true of Miss Bennet. She is sweetness personified. But, I cannot accustom myself to Miss Elizabeth’s sarcasm and wild ways.”

  Those were the very qualities Darcy admired in Miss Elizabeth. She tended to judge easily, but once corrected, she was quick to admit her error and to forgive. Her sarcasm was never used with the intent to hurt. She dearly loved to laugh. More often than not, she was the brunt of her own comments. It was refreshing to be in the company of someone who did not take herself too seriously. She made Georgiana laugh and forget her troubles, and for that he… well, he liked her very much.

  “Wild ways?” Bingley looked confused. “You talk of her as if she was a savage.”