Mr. Darcy's Promise

by Jeanna Ellsworth

  Georgiana did not want to admit to what she had done. She swallowed back more tears. She hadn’t meant to hint that she had tried to stop Wickham. All of it was beneath her, and she deserved to lose any and all of William’s trust in her. She walked away and looked out the window. Not seeing his reaction would help her admit to it. “I mailed some things to him. I only did it a few times but he wanted more. I was going to come to you and tell you because his last letter demanded money.” Her voice was barely audible.

  Elizabeth gasped as the piece fell neatly into place, “It was you who took William’s pocketwatch and the silverware and my necklace?”

  Darcy turned a confused look to Elizabeth, and raising his voice again said, “Your necklace? I did not know your necklace was missing! The one I gave you the night of the theatre?”

  Elizabeth looked heatedly at Darcy. He had made no attempts to apologize, even now. “Yes,” she said stiffly. “The same necklace.” She wanted to say more— to tell him how much he had hurt her, but it was clear that Georgiana needed him right now. His duties as a brother could supersede that of a husband. She motioned to Georgiana whose back was turned away, but whose gentle sobs were getting louder. Then she turned to leave. She did not need to be hurt by him any further. She felt worse than she did on her wedding day. At least then she knew he didn’t care. At least then she hadn’t known he could be kind and gentle. At least then she didn’t have hope for a happy marriage. At least then she didn’t love him and at least then her heart broke for different reasons. Now she knew he cared for her, which made his assumptions and hateful words hurt even more.

  Darcy reached for Elizabeth’s arm. “My words just now . . . do not leave. Please . . . just let me handle Georgiana right now. I am sorry . . . Elizabeth . . .” But he watched her pull her arm away, lift her chin, and turn to leave. His heart dropped as he saw her skirts twirl around and her squared shoulders slump as she reached the door. What have I done? He realized he had just made a difficult situation worse by his intense reaction. He had just offended; no, he had done worse than that. His actions had been unforgivably cruel to Elizabeth. And here was his dearest sister in tears. He didn’t know what to do. Should he follow Elizabeth or comfort Georgiana?

  He was slightly embarrassed that Georgiana would do such a thing and his instinct from being her guardian for all these years wanted to discipline her, but her sobbing softened his heart. She was already feeling bad enough. He lowered his voice and walked over to her. “Is it true, Georgiana? Did you send him those things?” Her shoulders shook with her crying and she nodded, bowing her head even further. He reached for her shoulders and turned her towards him and wrapped his arms around her. “Shhh, everything will be all right. He cannot hurt you anymore. I will not allow it.” He was struck with memories of telling something similar to Elizabeth the night of the ball after Wickham kissed Elizabeth. Although he was with Georgiana, he ached to apologize to Elizabeth. He prayed he had not ruined it completely. Please let her forgive me. He shook his head a little. He could not force her to do anything. All he could do was beg her forgiveness, and beg he would. He turned his thoughts back to Wickham’s threatening letters. Something had to be done.

  *****

  As much as Elizabeth was hurt by his heated words to her when he thought the letter was hers, she knew they had plenty of time to reconcile. This was just a storm, and it too would pass. They would eventually talk about it, he would eventually apologize, and she would eventually forgive him, but right now she needed to see the chicks. They were less than a day old. Ironically, her realization that she loved William was not much older.

  She hurried to the only place that always brought her peace when she first came to Pemberley, the barn. Yes, she was hurt, but now a more dire possibility came to her. What would William do now that he knew of the threats? Would he challenge Wickham? She could not bear the idea, even now, that he would injure himself. Fresh tears came to her eyes. I cannot lose him!

  Chapter 11

  A

  lthough apologizing to Elizabeth was at the forefront of his mind, Darcy had a few things to work out before he could go speak with his wife. Less than an hour after Georgiana’s revelation in his study, Darcy was deep into conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam. “These are the rest of the letters that he has sent,” he concluded, spreading them out across the desk. “Georgiana promises me that there are no more. It appears that he is demanding money now, and far more than what Georgiana would be able to access. Wickham most certainly knows this,” Darcy said heavily.

  “And now she must turn to you. You think he wants you involved now,” Richard said. Darcy nodded grimly. Richard picked up the most recent letter. “And he thinks you will pay this ten thousand pounds to him? Why? What in the world makes him think you would?”

  Darcy gazed out the window at the lawn below. Compounding his guilt over hurting Elizabeth was the knowledge that he was partially responsible for this situation. He knew the seriousness of the situation was worsened by his actions in the past. “There is something I did not ever tell you about Ramsgate and Georgiana. But hear me out before you judge me too harshly. God knows I deserve to be beaten, but I only did what I thought was best.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam walked over to Darcy and put his hand on his shoulder. “Cousin, I doubt anything you did concerning Wickham could make me want to beat you; now him, yes, but you, no. What could be so bad that you could not tell me?”

  “I never told you I walked in on that scoundrel kissing Georgiana. A habit I seem to be taking up,” he added under his breath. Richard’s eyes flickered with confusion but Darcy ignored it. “I was so angry that he would dare attempt to compromise Georgiana that I nearly threw him out of the house myself at the very moment. But then he made a vile threat, and it is not one I should have listened to. He said he would tarnish her reputation if I did not pay him to keep quiet. He was going to tell our Aunt Catherine that I was allowing Georgiana to sell herself to the highest bidder, that I encouraged her to act so wantonly. As you know, we had such hopes for her that summer, and the two thousand pounds he demanded seemed a small price to secure her future happiness. In return, I demanded that he leave the area and stay as far from Pemberley and Darcy House as possible. I also instructed him to never contact Georgiana again. Well, it shall not be a surprise to either of us to hear that he cannot keep his promises. He had not come near us, and I thought that was all in the past . . . until he and Georgiana met at Longbourn, just as she told you. When I realized he was in Meryton, and for a justifiable reason, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I did not think he would pursue her like he has. So you see, this is all my fault.”

  Richard laughed and shook his head. “So, my dear cousin, you think because you paid him once, you are responsible for every decision that he makes–– that you–– not him, made the decision to do what he did? Now that is classic Darcy logic.”

  Darcy sent his cousin an exasperated look. He didn’t care to be laughed at and especially about something so serious. “Richard, I am being serious. If I had not caved once to his extortion, then he would not have tried a second time.”

  “Oh, very well. Play the martyr. It is all your fault that a man would prey upon an innocent young lady twice in one year.” Richard reached over for Darcy’s decanter, still left out from the other day, and poured himself a glass of brandy. “Let us just drop the subject of who is really at fault because I fear we will not agree. What are you going to do about it? And more importantly, how will I get a chance to be a part of it? He cannot go unpunished after all that he has done.”

  “I agree,” Darcy said emphatically. “I am leaving for Hertfordshire in the next hour. I am going to find him, and once and for all, end this. I need you to stay here with Elizabeth and Georgiana in case they need you.”

  Richard coughed on a swallow of his brandy. “You are not actually going to duel, are you? It is illegal!”

  “No, indeed not. I would and will if necessary. I admit that
the idea is tempting, but such behavior is unconscionable from a husband and brother. In fact, I was hoping you might have a better idea.” The risk was too great, even if Darcy knew that he was the better swordsman.

  Richard’s frown deepened, and he sat his brandy glass down with a heavy clink before he reached for the letters. “Do you not realize what you have here? This is proof that he not only was threatening the safety of Georgiana but that he was demanding money to . . . now, how did he put it? Ah yes, to ‘stay his hand.' No magistrate will ignore this, Darcy. They do not look kindly on extortion from any man, least of all from those who wear his majesty’s uniform.”

  Darcy picked up one of the letters. It was true that they held power, but could they really solve their problem? “You truly think we could get him convicted with the letters? This is wonderful! All I need do is to ensure that he is brought in to a magistrate.” He paused after a moment, feeling his heart sink. “Could it really be that simple?”

  Richard frowned. “This is coming from years of serving in the army, Cousin, nothing is as simple as it sounds when you are dealing with thinking, irrational, and conniving enemies.”

  *****

  Elizabeth stepped easily back towards the house, feeling as if a weight had been lifted after visiting the chicks. She paused in front of the house, gazing out at the carriage that was being loaded with suspiciously familiar trunks. “Mr. Reynolds,” she called, walking towards him, “whose trunks are those? They look like my husband’s.”

  “Yes, madam, he will be leaving for Hertfordshire in the next half hour.”

  Elizabeth’s brows drew together and her mind went spinning. Why was William going to Hertfordshire? And why so suddenly? She drew in a sharp breath. Why hadn’t he told her he was going, or asked her to accompany him? She could not imagine any reason that he would go besides confronting Wickham, and the fear over the scenario nearly took her breath. Suddenly she knew what she needed to do.

  “Thank you, Reynolds,” she said quickly, turning on her heel to go find Serafina. Luckily, her maid was in the midst of some mending in her room.

  “Serafina,” Elizabeth said quickly. “I need you to pack my trunks as soon as you can, and get a footman to bring them down. I am going with my husband and we do not have a moment to lose.”

  “Of course, madam,” Serafina said, following as Elizabeth led the way upstairs. She quickly changed into traveling clothes, fastening her bonnet under her chin and gazing back at herself in the mirror, gathered her confidence. She would need all her wits about her to convince William of her plan.

  Serafina came up behind her and curtsied. “I believe I have it all packed, unless you want to bring the silk nightdress . . .”

  “No. Not yet.” Her throat felt stiff as she said it.

  “Then I will call for the footman right away.” Serafina reached for Elizabeth’s hand and pressed it. “Travel safely, madam.”

  She nodded her thanks and headed downstairs. She passed the study on her way out, noting, thankfully, that the door was still closed. Perfect. I am not too late. She slipped outside and into the carriage, bracing both hands against the walls to pull herself inside. The carriage rocked as her own trunk was loaded, and she let out a breath, gazing out the window. Soon she heard William’s voice outside and she scooted further back into the carriage, out of sight.

  “Is everything secure?” Darcy asked.

  “Yes, sir.” The footman said.

  “Then I shall only be a moment, I need to talk to Mrs. Darcy and then we shall be off.” He turned to walk back into the house. Elizabeth will not be happy.

  “But Mr. Darcy, she is already waiting in the carriage.”

  Elizabeth braced herself. This was the moment she knew must come. She wished she was looking outside to see his expression at hearing this news; surely he was not happy. She waited for what seemed like several minutes until she finally heard him open the door to the carriage, and raised her gaze to meet his.

  Darcy’s face was tight with a frown of puzzlement. Sure enough Elizabeth was inside. “Elizabeth? Why are you in the carriage?” he asked, careful to keep his voice quiet enough that the servants could not hear. He didn’t like having his servant tell him something he was supposed to already know, like the fact that his wife thought she was coming along. He saw her look blankly back at him. “Elizabeth, this is not a social call. We shall arrange to visit Hertfordshire together at a better time.” She did not respond, but looked steadily back at him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Please get out of the carriage,” he said firmly. She lifted her chin in response, and he let out a small, exasperated breath. This is ridiculous!

  He climbed into the carriage and sat next to her. “I have to go, Elizabeth, and we both know that the business I have is not pleasant. Please, get out of the carriage.” She looked back at him and squared her shoulders as if readying herself for a battle. He threw up his hands, “Elizabeth, this is not a request! You simply cannot accompany me!” Her lips tightened, and she opened her mouth as if to speak before looking away.

  Darcy paused, and then gentled his tone. “You need to be here for the Autumn Festival and to help Georgiana during this difficult time. She needs you.” She looked back at him, just once, but it was long enough to see that her face was flushed and her eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Dearest Elizabeth, do not cry. Please, I cannot bear it.” He withdrew his handkerchief and held it out to her. She looked at it, her face twisting as if it was filthy and she had no desire to take it from him. He let out an exasperated breath and dropped his hand. “You are so stubborn, Elizabeth!”

  She gave him a half smile before resuming her frozen expression. He leaned back against the back of the carriage and sighed. He couldn’t physically remove her from the carriage. He couldn’t force her against her will. He sighed, “Very well, but we will talk about this. Have you even told anyone else your plans? Or am I the only one surprised?” She mutely shook her head. “No, you have not told anyone? Or no, I am the only one surprised?” Her expression did not alter. “Good grief Elizabeth! I said you could come, can you just communicate with me?”

  Elizabeth let out a deep breath of relief. She was not sure how far her conviction would carry her. “I asked Serafina to inform Mrs. Reynolds, but I admit I gave no thought to the Festival. I do not know what to do about that.”

  In spite of all his concern, Darcy let out a hearty chuckle. Relieved he didn’t have to interpret her defensive body language anymore, he said, “I must thank you, Mrs. Darcy,” he said, bowing his head to her. “I had begun to worry that the woman I married had long since left Pemberley.” She raised her eyebrows quizzically and he smiled back at her. Now that he knew he had her attention, he said, “It is more like you, my dearest Lizzy, to chirp loudly rather than silently.” She covered her mouth with a gloved hand, but not until he heard a small laugh escape.

  Darcy thought quickly on the matter. “I will speak with Mrs. Reynolds. We will simply postpone the Autumn Festival for a few weeks. The freeze is still at least a month off.” She nodded, her gaze attentive. “But other than my permission to have you accompany me— which you have won from me only reluctantly, I might add— may I do you any other service?”

  “No. Thank you,” she added after a moment. Ideally, she herself would make these arrangements with Mrs. Reynolds, but she would not give him the chance to slip away from Pemberley without her. He gave her a small bow before exiting the carriage, and she gazed out the window at the beautifully tended lawn. In a few short minutes, he returned and settled into the seat across from her. She had assumed that he might care to sit next to her. Darcy tapped on the roof and the carriage started.

  The roads from the storm last night were not pleasant to travel on. They rode in silence for a half hour, the carriage rocking them back and forth in spite of all the driver’s care, and she finally cleared her throat. The silence was thick and she felt she had to say something. Her emotions were in a jumble over the last few hours. “You
called me stubborn.” A small smile crept at the corner of her mouth even though she tried to suppress it.

  Darcy looked back at her, relieved just to hear her break the silence, and then broke out into a roaring belly laugh. “You have found me out, Mrs. Darcy. I will confess to all my crimes if only you will reveal why you were so insistent on accompanying me.”

  Elizabeth was silent for a moment, one finger trailing the seam of her gloves. She owed him an answer. How does one finally open one’s heart? How does one explain irrational fears? How does one place one’s heart out in the open, exposed for all to see? One doesn’t–– not yet–– not fully. “I was worried about you.” She knew it was no closer to expressing her real feelings than what she said after the kiss the night of the fire.

  She saw him raise an eyebrow at her. She knew he was asking for a better explanation. “I could not let you leave after all that had occurred, being asked to pray for your health and safety. You did not even tell me you were going, which means you knew I would not approve. And if I did not approve then I was not going to let you do it. And if I let you go by yourself I would have no influence on you. And if I had no influence then I would be powerless.” She knew she was rambling. She took a deep, courageous breath, “I cannot lose you William.” She bowed her head and looked at her hands. If she had been looking at him she would have seen his eyes smiling and hope shining brightly from them.

  He leaned forward and shifted across the carriage to sit by her before he took her chin in his hands, lifting it and studying her face: the beautiful curve of her chin, the delicate rosiness of her lips, her bright and bewitching eyes. “I cannot lose you either, dearest Elizabeth.” He brushed his lips across her cheek, and her eyes rose to meet his, locking them together before the carriage interrupted them with another lurch. They both laughed quietly, disengaging and sitting side by side. This time it was Darcy who took a deep, courageous breath. “I thought I had lost you,” he murmured, half to himself.