Surprised by Love

by Jane Wentworth

  The worst thing was imagining what Wickham intended for Miss Darcy. It was unconscionable. He was a married man. What made it all the worse was that Darcy was an honourable man who had only sought to protect Elizabeth’s own younger sisters. Was that the reason for this? Had Wickham set out to exact revenge from Darcy for sending him away from Hertfordshire?

  What made it even more unbearable was the fact that the rain had not stopped since the morning after Darcy’s departure. They had been stuck inside the house for days on end now, and she longed to walk in the park and quieten her mind.

  “Oh Lizzy,” Jane murmured. “What is it? You have been quiet for days now. Do you miss Darcy?”

  She nodded, not feeling guilty for doing so. After all, it was true: she did miss him desperately.

  “Do not worry. He shall be back soon.” She frowned. “Although I cannot imagine what has kept him away from you for so long. It is almost time for us to return home. You shall soon be married, Lizzy!”

  At this, Elizabeth tried to force a smile but found she could not.

  “Lizzy,” Jane hissed, clearly reluctant to let the matter lie. “I have never seen you like this. I shall have Charles write to Darcy at once.”

  “No! You must not!”

  “But why? It is clear that his absence weighs heavily on you. Where has he gone? He did not even tell us he was leaving.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. Her heart was heavy with the knowledge that she could not share. “Please do not. It is important to him. He would not have gone otherwise.”

  “Well perhaps he ought to have taken you with him. It is rather beastly of him.”

  From anyone else, such a statement would have been shocking enough, but Jane rarely had a bad word to say about anyone. “Jane, you cannot say a thing like that!”

  “Well I must! He has left you here alone without a word as to when he shall return or where he has gone. Imagine if Bingley and I had not been here! You would have been bored beyond belief.”

  “Please, Jane. Do not…”

  She was prevented from finished her sentence when the door of the drawing room opened. Elizabeth was on her feet immediately, having assumed it was Darcy returned without his sister. But it was not—it was Charles Bingley, whose presence usually filled her with delight but now only disappointed her for he was not her Mr. Darcy.

  “There you are,” he said. “I had wondered if you had gone out—you are not normally so quiet.”

  Elizabeth tried to smile, but she could not. Even Bingley showed none of his usual enthusiasm though it was clear he tried valiantly to keep up a front.

  She stared out the window. But what was their poor mood when compared with the pain that Darcy was experiencing at that moment? It was surely trivial. She stared over the rooftops, wishing for the umpteenth time that she had thought of a better way to help and perhaps prevent this whole mess from ever happening.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Darcy returned the following day. It was early in the morning and Elizabeth was not long up. She dressed quickly and hurried out of her room, though nervousness tugged at her heart.

  What if he was alone? What if he blamed her for not having stayed to watch Wickham instead of running off to fetch him?

  She stopped on the landing and tried to look downstairs. The staircase was set far back in the hall, though, and she could not see them—though she could hear Darcy addressing his butler. Her heart contracted. What would she do if he wanted nothing more to do with her? It would be impossible to go back to her old life after knowing love, however fleeting.

  She swallowed and told herself not to be so foolish; to go downstairs without delay even if it meant facing the painful reality she expected.

  She was halfway down the stairs when she realised that the two men were not alone, as she had thought. Georgiana Darcy stood beside her brother, head hung. Her face was pale and wan and she looked as though she’d been crying. Elizabeth’s heart contracted and she forgot her own sorrow.

  “Miss Darcy,” she cried, hurrying down the remainder of the stairs.

  At that point, Mr. Darcy fell silent and looked up at her. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the unmistakable look of admiration and love in his eyes. She swallowed, feeling close to tears of relief. Had the scandal been averted?

  “Miss Bennet,” the young lady whispered.

  Elizabeth exchanged glances with Darcy and her heart soared anew. She wanted more than anything to be alone with him, but she knew what she must do. Miss Darcy looked so broken and sad that it seemed only right to console her. After all, they would soon be sisters, would they not?

  “Shall we go and have tea?”

  Her heart ached to speak to Darcy, but she told herself there would be plenty of time for that later.

  * * *

  At first Miss Darcy said nothing. Elizabeth skirted the subject as delicately as she could, but it soon became clear that such coyness was no use. She clutched Georgiana’s hand and told herself that it was enough to simply be there for the girl.

  After twenty minutes had passed, Georgiana let out a deep sigh.

  “I am such a fool,” she said, sounding more pained that anyone Elizabeth had ever heard.

  “No,” Elizabeth said, once she had gotten over the shock of the young woman’s sudden outburst of regret. “You must not say that. Any of us might have fallen prey to a charming man who was determined to ruin us.”

  Georgiana glanced up at her and smiled weakly. “Thank you for putting it in such a way, but it is not true. They told me his wife had passed away, you know. I cannot believe it. I thought it was all a wonderful coincidence, meeting George again like that.” Her face fell as she said his name. “Will you stay with me?”

  “Of course.”

  It seemed Miss Darcy did not wish to talk ant more about the matter and Elizabeth struggled to think of anything to say to her given the severity of what had almost happened.

  “I believed he loved me,” she said in a small voice.

  “Of course you did, my dear,” Elizabeth whispered, squeezing her hand. “And I imagine your governess did little to dissuade you from believing his every word.”

  “You must not say that about Mrs. Younge. She is a good woman, despite what my brother says.”

  Elizabeth sighed. The girl was so kind-hearted. And Elizabeth had no idea what had happened, so she was loath to criticise the woman who had invited Wickham into their lives. She was left with no choice but to sit in silence and wait to hear what the girl decided to share with her.

  “He will never forgive me,” she said, after another several minutes had gone by.

  “Who?” Elizabeth whispered. “Your brother?”

  Miss Darcy nodded. “Yes. I have let him down. Oh, what a fool I was, but you must understand. George arrived from nowhere and he was so very charming! I have always admired him; ever since I was a young girl. What was I supposed to think? I am not worldly like my brother. I see the best in people.”

  “Of course you do, my dear sweet girl. It is not your fault that he sought to take advantage of you and you must not think that. In fact, I forbid you to. Do you hear me? You are the victim in all this, not the guilty one.”

  Miss Darcy nodded, though it was clear that she did not fully believe it yet.

  Elizabeth’s heart contracted at the sight of the girl, who was so clearly filled with sorrow. The gall of that man! She hoped Darcy had found and punished Wickham accordingly, and if he had not, she would have to restrain herself from doing so. It was maddening!

  She looked up towards the door and jolted in shock at the sight of Darcy standing silently at the wall. He was watching her intently. Her heart almost skipped a beat.

  Her delight at seeing him again was tinged by a sense of guilt that she could not rid herself of. What trouble had he been through in the past several days? Might that have been averted if she had acted differently?

  She wanted so desperately to go to him, but how could she leave Miss Darc
y in her current state? With a heavy heart, she turned away from Darcy and took his sister’s hands in hers, hoping that she might soon calm down.

  Chapter Seventeen

  By the time she had calmed Miss Darcy down and found Darcy in his study, Elizabeth Bennet had resolved to have a frank discussion with that man without delay.

  She marched into the room and sat down across from him before he could even get a word out.

  “I apologise, Mr. Darcy. I have had days to think about my actions, and I realise that I did not do the right thing. I should have asked the maid to wait. I should have confronted them myself. It was my delayed response that made it difficult for you to find your sister. I know that, but I acted with the best of intentions.”

  She sighed. There it was. The truth. And he could react as he saw fit.

  To her surprise, he closed the book he had been reading and leaned across the table with an expression of the utmost disbelief. “What on earth are you talking about, my dear?”

  She frowned, exasperated. Did she have to say it all again? It had taken no small amount of effort to tell him the first time without crying. “I thought it was obvious. I realise my role in this.” She swallowed, trying in vain to remove the lump in her throat.

  “That is what I had trouble understanding,” he said with a heavy sigh. He leant back in his chair and regarded her. “Do you think you are in any way responsible for this?”

  “Well, yes,” she said. “I could have approached it differently. If I had only stopped to think about it…”

  Darcy sighed heavily and shook his head. “My goodness, Elizabeth, you really cannot see what I see, can you? First you traipsed all over London to find me and alert me to what was going on. Then you provided comfort to my sister that I could never provide.” He must have seen the confused look on her face. “Just now. In the drawing room. I saw you.”

  She nodded. “That was the least I could do.”

  “My goodness,” he said, taking her hand. “You have done more than enough as it is. What is this nonsense about you being responsible?”

  By now she had given up trying to stop the tears from coming. “It is just as I said,” she said, her voice wavering. “If I had reacted differently then you might have found her faster. Imagine if you… if…”

  “There now,” he said in a soothing voice. “You must not allow yourself to be upset like this. It is not your fault. You found me as soon as you could. I certainly would not have expected you to go off around London on your own. And I am glad you did not confront Wickham: he is a volatile character and goodness knows what he would have done. Do you know, his wife is nowhere to be found. I half suspect he is responsible. And all so he could marry my sister and get revenge on me for humiliating him in Hertfordshire.” He buried his head in his hands. “I ought to have known he would not heed my threats that I would ruin him unless he went north.”

  “Your? How is it your fault?” She laughed despite the heaviness in her heart. If anyone had been faultless in this whole affair it was him. “Your only crime was to step in and stop him from wooing my sister, and that is no crime at all!”

  “Yes, but this is Wickham. I know him well. I should have considered that he would seek revenge on me and what better way than targeting my sister.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “You could never have anticipated something so wicked. You are too good.”

  “Ah, but there is good and there is being a fool. I am her guardian. It was my duty to consider all of the possible outcomes of my actions in Hertfordshire. Knowing his character, I ought to have suspected…”

  She sighed. “You see, directly or indirectly, this is my fault. If you hadn’t warned him away from Lydia…”

  “Nonsense,” he said with some force. “I will not hear such a thing again. It is not your fault. In fact, this would all have been more painful for my sister if you were not here. I heard you speak to her in the drawing room. You cannot have missed the calming effect your words had on her. I certainly did not.”

  “It was the least I could do,” she whispered.

  He looked about to object again, but he said nothing. He cleared his throat.

  “Is all well? Did you resolve the matter?” She did not wish to push, but she had assumed earlier that he would tell her what had happened. She wanted desperately to know that all was well.

  He nodded. “It is well. Wickham shall not bother us again, I have made sure of it. I have been too lenient on him until now, but even I have my limits.”

  “Then that is all I need to know.”

  “Yes,” he said, seeming as though a burden had been lifted off his shoulders. “The only mercy in all of this is that Mrs. Younge and Wickham seem to have had a falling out. She was with them when I found them, mercifully.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Elizabeth whispered, feeling tears of relief sting her eyes.

  Darcy appeared similarly affected—his smile, though brave, was forced. “All that remains now is for us to return to Hertfordshire for our marriage.”

  She looked at him askance. She was torn, but she knew in her heart what she must do. “Darcy,” she said, heart pounding. “Perhaps it is best if I return to Hertfordshire alone.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  He stared at her and it was if time had stopped. Now she had some idea of the wrath Wickham had faced—not that she could ever feel sorry for that awful man. “What did you say?”

  She shook her head. She had been thinking of little else, but now she had to explain it she found herself uncharacteristically lost for words. “It is not my preference either,” she said quickly. “But consider it. Your sister has had a shocking time of it. The last thing she needs is to be away from her home in the midst of people celebrating our love. It does not seem fair.”

  He frowned. “You want to stop the wedding.”

  “No,” she said patiently, wishing she had first thought through what she intended to say. “I wish to delay it. For a short time. Until Georgiana is well again.” She swallowed. It caused her no small amount of sorrow to say such a thing, but she knew it was the right thing to do.

  “But this has nothing to do with her! We were engaged before Wickham came to find her.”

  Elizabeth stood and took his hands. “My dear Darcy, you must trust me on this point. She is a young girl who has just had her hopes of marriage dashed.”

  “It is not as if she loved him. He tricked her!”

  She smiled. How could he be so wise in some senses and so foolish in others? “She is sixteen,” she said patiently. “It does not matter that Wickham tricked her. The fact is, she loved him. Perhaps she still does. She is in pain. How do you think you would feel if someone separated us and told you we could not marry?”

  “That is what you are doing now.”

  “No, it is a different thing entirely.” She sighed. She loved his stubbornness but sometimes it was challenging. “Just think about it. Love does not simply go away.”

  They talked for hours and it finally seemed as though she had gotten through to him. Elizabeth was exhausted by then—it had been a very trying day for all of them. It was not surprising that they all decided to forgo supper in favour of going to bed early.

  Once she reached her bedroom and changed into her night things, Elizabeth realised to her dismay that she could not silence the stream of voices in her mind. No matter which way she lay, sleep evaded her. It was not the fault of the bed, for it was the most comfortable she had ever slept in.

  She sat up and stared into the darkness, frustrated by the headache that had started to pulse behind her temples.

  She soon forgot her headache when the door burst open.

  Heart thumping, Elizabeth threw off the blankets and leapt from the bed. “Who is it? Who is there?”

  “It is me. Georgiana.”

  “Georgiana?” That was the last person she would have expected to come hurrying into her room late at night. “What is it?”

  “I apologise if I frighte
ned you, but I had to speak to you. I cannot sleep because of it.”

  Elizabeth sat down on the edge of her bed feeling tired for the first time since she had retired for the evening. “Do not apologise. Come and sit down.”

  “Are you sure? I thought you might still be awake.”

  “I was.”

  Georgiana sighed and joined her. “My brother tells me you intend to delay the wedding.”

  Elizabeth gasped.

  “Does that surprise you?”

  “Well, yes. I did not think…”

  “He tells me everything,” Georgiana said. “Even though it pains him to do so sometimes, it is something I made him promise me a long time ago. You cannot know what it is like to have one’s elder brother as one’s guardian.”

  “No,” Elizabeth agreed. “I do not.”

  “I was not looking for sympathy.” The young girl sighed. “Miss Bennet, I appreciate your consideration, but there is really no need to delay your marriage on my account. I would feel positively terrible if you were to do so.”

  “But it is no trouble. Would you not prefer to stay here in peace than travel to Hertfordshire for a celebration, especially after everything that happened?”

  “No,” Miss Darcy said, sounding quite resolute. Elizabeth could not help but smile. She had thought the siblings were nothing alike only to find now that the girl shared her brother’s stubbornness. Perhaps they were not so different after all.

  “It is not an indictment on you, it would be—“

  “No. I insist on it. It is not fair on you to have to wait because of me. I do not want that. My brother loves you very much. I have never seen him like this. Even…” Her lovely face fell. “Even after what has happened…”

  If she had not been decided before, Elizabeth’s heart was set then. She felt she owed it to her new sister after everything the girl had gone through. “You are not unaffected by this, Georgiana, of course you are not. Please allow me to delay the marriage for you. What does it matter whether we get married next week or next month?” Of course, it mattered a lot, but to Elizabeth, some things were more important than her own selfish desires. She could wait. Would it not be better to have all of their loved ones in fine spirits for the occasion?