Darcy could not listen any longer, certain the man in question was Wickham. I must steer the conversation away from him before I hear his name pass her lips.
“And how does Miss Lydia find Brighton? Does it have all the charms she hoped for?” Darcy asked, drawing her attention back to him.
She smiled. “Mr. Darcy, I am certain you remember my youngest sister. I doubt there is anywhere she would not find the charms of society enjoyable.”
“Yes. Miss Lydia is a very…lively young lady.” He smiled back at her lovely face.
Turner asked, “Is her company as enjoyable as yours, Miss Bennet?”
“I do not know. Mr. Darcy?” she asked turning to him. “Is Lydia’s company as enjoyable as mine?”
Her eyebrow arched and he recognized a dangerous question when he heard one. “Although her company has always been considered pleasing, I must say I appreciate your sparkling wit more.”
“Well done, sir,” she replied with merry satisfaction. “Well done.”
After several minutes, the older ladies proclaimed they were eager for the excursion to continue. Phillip walked towards the carriage with his sister and Mrs. Gardiner while Miss Bennet and Mr. Darcy lingered behind.
“That was very generous of you to say about my sister. I know she can be overzealous at times and not present herself to the best advantage.”
“As do we all, Miss Bennet. Miss Lydia is young, filled with much ebullience. As for not presenting ourselves to the best advantage, I myself could be accused of that as well.”
She paused. And then—“You, Mr. Darcy? No, I believe you are presenting yourself quite well, indeed.” She smiled up at him, took his hand, and stepped into the carriage. His heart glowed with hope as he approached his horse. Maybe, old man. Just maybe.
His chest tightened and his breathing quickened as his horse came alongside the carriage. It looks the same. How could it not have changed in all these years?
He had traveled this road numerous times in years past. Yet, he had refrained from coming close enough to see the entrance. He could not. The memories were too bitter, even after sixteen years.
The Millers’ house was still there, a threshold he had not crossed in years. Whatever happened to Nana Miller? And her scones… for five hungry lads fresh from fishing at the creek. He chuckled to himself and readjusted the brim of his hat lower over his forehead. They had been good friends, the Miller lads. Henry and I loved them as well as any friends could. Fishing, catching frogs, swimming in the creek. It was nice to not be one of the wealthy Darcys to them. We were but regular boys.
He dismounted Ulysses and walked him over to a tree by the entrance of the caverns. He took a deep breath and looked around to the back of the large maple. Carved into the bark, he saw them: H.D., F.D., J.M., C.M., G.W.
It took all in his power to cease the tremor which was coursing through him as he handed Miss Bennet from the carriage. “I know you to be an excellent walker but are you prepared to go down in the depths of the earth and return unscathed?” He attempted to make light of his own apprehension, only to be met by her hesitancy.
“I must confess, I fear meeting Dante’s inferno and learning which ring of hell I possess.” She touched her brow with an impish smile. “But truly, I have developed a slight headache during the carriage ride and am uncertain of the reason. But, I do not wish to be the cause of anyone forfeiting the planned events.”
Hoping to hide the concern across his face, he said lightly, “Miss Elizabeth, I would be happy to remain above ground with you.”
“I thank you, Mr. Darcy, but admit I am curious to see the caverns myself.”
He clenched his jaw.
“Sir, I am aware you are not a supporter of this trip. Is there anything I might do to relieve your present discomfort?”
“I thank you, but no.” He allowed his voice to trail off, pushing the memory from his mind. He cleared his throat and attempted to master his composure. “So, you see, madam, it is just the concern of a man who is used to seeing to the care of those around me. I am certain all will be well.”
Her soft voice was a balm to his unwittingly troubled soul. “Your concern does you credit, Mr. Darcy. I am grateful for it.”
He felt a gentle squeeze of her hand around his arm. He looked down at her but her bonnet hid her expression.
He approached Turner and controlled his tone before speaking. “Phillip, the guide you have selected for our descent into the caverns…you are certain he is reliable and experienced?”
“Yes, Darcy,” his friend said with amusement. “Do not fear. I too am capable of managing.”
“It is not that. I am aware of your capabilities. It is only that Miss Bennet has a slight headache...”
“Come, let’s meet our guide.”
The two men walked towards the ladies who were speaking to the hired guide. As he turned to face him, much of his concern abated. “Mr. Miller.”
“Mr. Darcy. I am surprised to see you here, sir,” replied the man with a thick Scottish brogue.
“I am grateful Turner hired the most proficient guide in Derbyshire! My friends wanted to see the caverns. Had I been made aware that you were to be our guide, my trepidations would not have been so heightened these last four and twenty hours.”
There was look of understanding that passed between Darcy and Mr. Miller, and he hoped no one noticed it, most of all Miss Bennet.
Chapter 8
“And we are expected to crawl on all fours like a dog through that little hole for ten meters?” Mrs. Anderson’s voice bleated.
Elizabeth and the rest of the party stood around uneasily attempting to focus their attention on something, anything, in the distance to allow the brother and sister some semblance of privacy. If only Mr. Turner had been forthright with all the aspects of this trip, Mrs. Anderson might not have reacted in such a manner.
Mr. Darcy was speaking to Mr. Miller, the guide, a shorter man of about her father’s age, with balding hair and puffy jowls. She was surprised to see them in close conversation, the older man slightly animated in his actions. She noticed the easy manner which Mr. Darcy was standing and had to reproach herself.
Elizabeth, he has surprised you with his behavior these last weeks at Chenowith. If only I could reconcile his actions towards Mr. Wickham, then maybe I could understand this man! The raised voices breaking into her thoughts brought her back to the present.
“Amelia, it is not as far as you would believe. You have crawled much further when we vacationed in Plymouth.”
“Phillip,” Mrs. Anderson cried, “I was twelve years old and we were searching for crabs in the tide pools. I am a grown woman. I will not crawl through a hole in the side of a hill no matter what beauties await me.”
“But that is the only way to enter. Amelia—”
“No, Phillip. I am quite content to remain in the carriage or beneath that grove of trees over there,” she said, indicating a grouping of maples. “I have brought a sketch pad and some chalk for the very purpose. I will not be moved.”
“But, Amelia,” Mr. Turner began in a pleading voice. “I so wanted you to see the caverns. You will love them!”
“Then, my dear Madeline will have to described them to me in detail,” she said, looking at Mrs. Gardiner, who looked back at her friend when she heard her name.
“No, my dear Amelia. I will remain with you. I am not one who enjoys small, confined areas nor the dark. I do apologize, Mr. Turner, but with my friend excusing herself, I will have to as well.”
“But then what are we to do with Miss Bennet? She cannot go in unescorted?” He looked to Elizabeth, almost asking if she would make the same traitorous decision as his sister and her aunt.
“No, sir. I guarantee you, I want more than anything to partake of this adventure. But without my aunt or Mrs. Anderson joining us, I am at a loss for how I will be able to join.” Her eyes met Mr. Darcy’s.
“I believe, Miss Elizabeth, that I might have a solution. Horace?
” he called to the guide. “Do you have a young girl who could accompany us into the caverns?”
“Aye, that I do. I will fetch my granddaughter, and we can set right out.”
“Your granddaughter?”
“Yes. Jacob’s girl.” Both men shared a small smile before Mr. Miller sent a servant to get the girl.
“That is most kind of you,” Elizabeth said to the older man. “But, I do not wish to burden her if she has responsibilities.”
“She shall be fine, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy replied. “I am certain the possibility of escaping chores would make any child grateful.”
She waited until the young girl, no more than ten or twelve years old, scampered up to them with her grandfather.
“Sandra, this nice young lady is Miss Bennet. You will be going with her into the caves.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
“I will be leading the party, and you make sure everyone is safely inside before you follow behind, you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
The reduced party waved at Mrs. Anderson and Mrs. Gardiner before making their way to the cave entrance.
“Now, lass, the lads are used to moving across the ground like wee bugs. It’ll be right hard for you as you’ll muss your dress.”
Elizabeth heard a stifled chuckle coming from Darcy as she raised her chin and replied to the guide. “I assure you, I will be well. A little dirt does not scare me, sir.”
Darcy cleared his throat, and Elizabeth gave him a side look, as the gentlemen got down on the ground to crawl into the cave. She waited until only the glow of a lantern ahead was visible before giving one last wave to her aunt and assuming a most inelegant pose. Turning to Sandra, she asked, “Is the path straight, or does it turn?”
“It is mostly straight but does bend in a few places, miss. Grandfather and the gentlemen will be waiting for us in the main chamber with the lanterns. It’ll be very dark but just keep crawling. You’ll make it in no time, and I’ll be right behind you.”
Crawling into the darkened hole, she reflected on her current situation. I am grateful Mr. Darcy is ahead of me, as it would be most improper for him to crawl towards my bottom. As it is, I am doing my best to try and not think of the fact that I am maneuvering towards his.
Her eyes slowly adjusted to the minimal light emanating from the distant lantern of the guide. She continued to shuffle down the tunnel, listening to the sounds of the young girl following behind her, when a slight movement arrested her attention. Not stopping in time, she bumped into something firm and gasped.
“Miss Bennet?”
“Mr. Darcy? What do you do here? Why did you not go on ahead?” she asked into the darkness.
“I was concerned for your well-being so I came back to check on you.”
“But, sir. You have no light.”
“Yes,” she heard him say, stumbling for his next words. “But, the tunnel is narrow and I knew I would encounter you eventually. I wanted to determine if you still remained outside.”
“Mr. Darcy, I do not have the luxury of being a man in trousers. I am encumbered greatly by my skirts.”
Although she could not see his face, she could hear the concern in his voice.
“Yes, I know. I…I am very cautious around these caverns, and I do not want any harm to come to those…I know.”
Elizabeth started as she was bumped from behind. “Miss Bennet? Are you well?”
“Yes, Sandra, thank you, I am. Mr. Darcy merely came to check on us.”
“Oh,” she replied. “Thank you, sir.”
“Yes, well,” he mumbled. “Let us move on then.”
Elizabeth could hear him shuffling onward, and with the light ahead, knew she was almost at the end.
I do hope this is worth the trouble and discomfiture. She shook her head and came out of the tunnel and into the most breathtaking sight she had ever seen.
He studied her to make sure she was not jostled around too much by the lengthy crawl. True, she was a very spirited woman, the most spirited woman of his acquaintance but not likely one to creep about through the dirt.
He tried to not smile as she beheld the first chamber. It is breathtaking, is it not?
“This is magnificent,” she whispered, looking around as she brushed the dirt from her skirts and gloves. The chamber was outfitted with torches and hanging lanterns casting a luminous glow about the cavern. Walking towards the formations, she reached up and reverently touched them. “I have read Ole Worm but did not know the stalactites could look like this.”
“You have read Ole Worm?” he asked in surprise. “The Danish scholar who gave these rocks their names?”
“Yes,” she replied not looking at him. “But, it was a little difficult, because I do not speak Danish and had to translate it first.”
Remarkable!
“Yes, well,” Turner broke in. “Mr. Miller, what delights do you have in store for us today?”
“Right this way, sir, and I will be happy to oblige you and your party.” He cast a look at Darcy and nodded, then took great pains to point out the different formations by the glow of his lantern.
They continued to walk for over an hour, when Mr. Turner said, “Is there a pillar named by Mary, Queen of the Scots? I have not seen it but know it exists.”
Elizabeth noticed Mr. Miller cast a furtive glance at Mr. Darcy. “Aye, there is, but it’s through an old chamber I haven’t been into in years. It’s not better than those you’ve already seen.”
“I really wish to view it,” Mr. Turner continued. “Might we do that before we leave?”
After a moment, she saw Mr. Darcy’s slight nod. “Very well then,” Mr. Miller continued. “If you folks’ll follow me, it’s but a walk down this passage.”
The group began their descent along the pathway with Mr. Miller in the lead followed by Mr. Turner, and young Sandra. Mr. Darcy walked in step with Elizabeth, but by the faint glow of the lantern, she noticed the tightening of his jaw and could hear the shallowness of his breathing as they entered a chamber with a large pool of water, maybe forty feet long and forty feet wide.
“Sir? Are you well?”
He started at her question. “Yes, I am well.”
“Have you traveled through these parts of the caverns before?”
“Yes, but not for many years. This room in particular was one of our favorites.”
“Our?”
“Yes,” he said, almost lazily. “The Miller boys. We would often come down here and swim in that pool.” He indicated the water in front and pointed at the back wall. “Behind that rock is a natural slide which the minerals formed for thousands of years. We would take turns sliding down and competing for the largest splash.”
She chuckled at the thought of a young Mr. Darcy so uninhibited. “Were you not frightened? Being in these caves alone?”
He gave a soft snort and quietly said, “Not as much as we should have been.” He turned his back to the water, lost in thought.
“Are you sure you are well, sir?”
“Yes, I thank you Miss Elizabeth. I am merely fatigued.”
“Fatigued,” she teased, attempting to lighten his mood. “A man who enjoys sport and activity, fatigued by a little walk?”
His slight smile buoyed her, and she continued. “I hope Mr. Turner’s desire to see the pillar does not bother you?”
“Mr. Turner’s desires do not bother me in the least.” He continued to gaze around the room. “It is only that he does not take into account the dangers that lurk in caves such as these. However, Mr. Miller is an experienced guide. Yet, the fact he has not traveled into this particular cave for years indicates…that maybe there is more to his reticence than just lack of interest. But, Phillip is a sensible man, as is Mr. Miller. I will acquiesce to them on this.”
Her curiosity was piqued at his statement, and she teased, “Mr. Darcy, I believe you would control the world, including His Majesty himself, if you were able to.”
Darcy’s expre
ssion changed immediately. “You misunderstand me. It is only that sometimes others know what is best for those who are ignorant of circumstances. There are times when the man with the least amount of say, should be in command.”
“I might not have previously agreed with you, imagining the inexperienced need opportunities to prove themselves and to make their own mark in the world. But, I am beginning to realize I might have been misled. That not everyone is who they present themselves to be.”
He clasped his hands behind his back. “This is true, Miss Bennet. However, I would like to hope I am not the person who has caused your deep reflection on the subject?”
She quietly shook her head. “No, sir. I believe in essentials, you are very much as you always were. For myself, I fear I have misjudged the goodness of men after having been assured the whole of my life in my infallibility in discerning character.” She could not meet his gaze, and Darcy turned to face her. The remainder of their party had moved on ahead to the next chamber and the flickering candle in the small lantern was their only companion.
His words broke the silence. “Might I ask what you were told?”
She remained silent for a moment, then drew in a breath of courage, ashamed of her naiveté. “That you had been boyhood companions and were once the closest of friends.”
“That is true,” Darcy concurred.
“That he was left a living by your father upon his death.”
“Also correct.”
She began to fidget and looked down at her hands. “That he had been reduced to his present circumstances and service in the militia because of your withholding of his living.”
He huffed. “Is that the story still? I am surprised he is not bored of it and another more daring version has not taken its place. Wickham shows a lack of creativity which surprises me.”
She spoke not a word, attempting to formulate a reply, when he continued. “And you, Miss Bennet? Was it so easy to believe these accusations he made against me?”
She could hear the pain in his voice—the hope that she would refute his fears. Guilt enveloped her, as she stammered a reply. “Who could have heard of his circumstances and not pity him?”
The Goodness of Men Page 8