Mr. Darcy's Secret

by Jane Odiwe

  At last, the ancient stone dwelling place where they were headed on the edge of the wood came into view. But having observed the old ruin, it suddenly disappeared from view as the high hedge looming before them obstructed their vision and their way. Further along, a gap produced a stile. Mr Butler jumped over in a moment and without further ado, held out his hand on the other side to Miss Darcy. She hesitated, and it was only when he smiled encouragingly that she allowed him to take her hand.

  "Be careful, Miss Darcy, there is a muddy puddle on this side. Please, will you allow me the liberty of helping you over it?" She grasped his hand tightly and climbed over the stile, slipping a little on the greasy, wet plank. As he witnessed her unsteadiness, instead of waiting for her answer, he immediately took her up in his arms and carried her over the puddle. Georgiana was so shocked that she could not speak besides muttering her thanks, which sounded to her own ears like a strangled squeak. She could not think about anything except how he had picked her up as if she were no weight at all. In his strong arms she had felt quite small and, for all the shock it had given her, felt relieved now it was all over. Tom strode on ahead as if nothing of any consequence had occurred. Georgiana hurried behind him, running to catch up, feeling her face burning with what she hoped would look like exertion but which, she knew, was as a result of her consciousness of what had just happened.

  Mr Butler stood in front of the old stone hut. One of its walls was missing, it had only a couple of struts left for a roof, and most of its old stones were lying tumbled before the open doorway whose solid door had disappeared long since. Sheltered by a beech tree and smothered at its foot in brown bracken and ferns, it looked a sorry sight.

  Georgiana found her tongue at last. "This is the spot Mrs Darcy thought might be improved. I hope it is to your liking."

  Tom nodded and turned toward her at last, saying, "Mrs Darcy has a good eye. I think there are great possibilities here. Well, Miss Darcy, I am sorry that you had to be so troubled this morning when I am sure you have plenty to occupy you. Thank you very much for bringing me up here, I will get on immediately whilst the light is good."

  Georgiana stood for a moment, not quite knowing how to answer. Eventually she uttered, "It was my pleasure, Mr Butler." There did not seem anything else to say. Mr Butler had fetched out his things and taken up his stance, his back to her in a most dismissive gesture. Georgiana immediately felt in the way and her companion seemed entirely involved in his work. He was sketching, making rapid movements with his pencil in a small notebook. It was clear, she thought, that he had forgotten that she was even there. Without saying good-bye, she turned quickly on her heel and made her way back down the hill, taking care to avoid a hedge and stile the sight of which would give rise to much mortification.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  Mrs Darcy and Mrs Gardiner had spent a profitable day in Matlock. Laden with packages and parcels, most bought with Christmas in mind, they set off for home before darkness fell. The weather was closing in again and the temperature was dropping. Elizabeth carefully tucked a rug, kept for the purpose of swaddling cold and weary travellers, around their knees as they travelled through the villages of the Peak towards Pemberley.

  "There is a feel of snow in the air," said Mrs Gardiner. "I am pleased we have managed to accomplish so much today. I know when winter sets in here it is very difficult to get about."

  "Yes, I have heard from Fitzwilliam that the winters are very hard, but I daresay if it snows it will be nothing but a delight to the children."

  Mrs Gardiner smiled. "You are quite right, Lizzy. But I hope there will not be too much snow to prevent your family from arriving or stop your plans for a ball."

  "No, that would be most inconvenient. Well, if we should have snow soon perhaps it will have melted by the time I give my ball. I have sent out many invitations and I have not yet received one refusal. I still have a lot to do, but I know with your help and that of Mrs Reynolds, we will soon be able to forget about what has to be done and enjoy the coming festivities."

  The ladies became quiet, lost in their own thoughts as they travelled. They were entering Birchlow, a village still seven miles from Pemberley and typical of the area with its stone cottages. There were not many of its inhabitants about and those that walked along the side of the road walked quickly, with collars turned up against the icy wind, hats and bonnets firmly in place, and cloaks held tightly about them. Elizabeth rested her head against the cushioned interior and stared out of the window. It did feel quite cosy and she was feeling very tired after the exertions of the day. Just as her eyes were closing, lulled into sleep by the gentle rhythm of the rumbling coach as it rolled over cobblestones, her attention was caught by the sight of someone in the dim light, a gentleman who looked most familiar. Suddenly awake, she craned her head round as the carriage rolled past. "How strange," she said to herself, but as she observed the gentleman's appearance she chided herself for being silly and dismissed the notion. Her husband did not dress like a country farmer. Besides, she reasoned, it could not possibly have been him because she recalled that he had gone to Buxton for the day on a business matter and would be travelling home in completely the opposite direction.

  "Is anything the matter, Elizabeth?" enquired her aunt.

  "No, nothing," replied Lizzy, "I think I was dreaming, that's all."

  Chapter 8

  Thomas Butler was to continue working on his plans at Pemberley over the next day, spending most of his time outdoors in spite of the cold weather. Georgiana watched him striding across the gardens and up to the higher slopes from a window in the saloon as far as she was able, for he quickly became a small dot in the distance. She had begun to wish she could join him up there, but reminded herself that he had not seemed to want any company the day before. He had discouraged her, she felt, and yet she was puzzled. His behaviour toward her in the library had seemed friendly enough and he had shown kindness and gallantry when faced with a muddy puddle. The recollection caused her to blush. Strong arms, warm breath on her cheek like a caress, and a smell, a heady mixture of lemon-scented cologne perfumed with the sharpness of frosted earth, filled her mind and awakened her memory. He had walked further than he need with her in his arms if she recalled, though the moment had swiftly passed and there had been not even a comment nor a look exchanged between them. Was there something in her manner that he had disliked? Had she not thanked him enough, or perhaps she had given him the impression that she was ungrateful for his intervention?

  Georgiana did not know what to do with herself and could not seem to settle to anything. Drawn by any activity through the window, she had the satisfaction of seeing Mr Butler eventually reappear three hours later, head down and briskly walking. Rushing to the door, she paused, waiting to see if she could hear any sign of him come in or catch his voice talking to one of the servants. But no such sound came. "Perhaps he will not come in after all, but will go straight back to Lambton," she thought with more than a little regret. Georgiana ran downstairs as soon as she dared and, trying her utmost to appear casual when enquiring after Mr Butler, she could not help feeling disappointed when she heard Mrs Reynolds say that he would return the following day.

  By the very next morning, Georgiana had convinced herself that she had offended Tom Butler in some way and was sure that he must think her proud and haughty by her manner. She blushed with shame as she recalled that she had not managed any conversation as she accompanied him on that first day, nor thanked him properly for his gallant help over the stile, and she was determined to do something about it. As soon as she caught sight of him heading off in the direction of the stone dwelling place, she set off with her sketchbook and pencil in hand. She had to run to catch him up and got within a few yards when her courage started to fail. What would he think if he turned round and saw her chasing him? The sight of his tall, imposing figure dressed for warmth in a greatcoat, the capes of which flapped on either side of him, made Georgiana think he resembled some heavenly creature, a
dark angel with outspread wings. Her courage started to fail. The day was cold and the sky looked very grey with low clouds massing on the horizon. To finish it all, it looked as if it might rain at any second. What was she doing here out in the cold? she scolded herself. Georgiana had just decided to stop and turn tail when she had the misfortune to step onto an icy puddle, which cracked with a loud retort. Mr Butler immediately turned round and saw her looking not elegant and graceful, as she hoped she might always appear to him, but dishevelled and unkempt, with an expression of horror on her countenance, as she ended up tumbling backwards onto the ground with one of her ankles twisted and sunk at least six inches into a hole in the ground. Her cloak was muddied, she had a soggy boot that would not move, and her gloves were ruined.

  "Miss Darcy," shouted Mr Butler coming down the hill as fast as he was able, "are you hurt? Please allow me to be of assistance. Stay where you are, do not attempt to move. Oh dear, I see you are quite stuck fast. I hope your injuries are not serious."

  With sudden realisation, Georgiana appreciated the comedy of her situation and laughed. "Oh, no, Mr Butler, only my pride and my crushed bonnet are hurt. Oh dear, I was doing so very well and now I'm stuck. I cannot move my leg."

  Tom caught up with her holding out his hand to assist her to her feet. She took one look at her dirt-encrusted glove and shook her head. "You'll soil your glove, Mr Butler."

  "Take yours off," he directed. "You may have mine, though your slender fingers will be lost in my giant-sized ones." Georgiana watched him swiftly remove his gloves and proffer them. Such was his command and so impossible her situation that Georgiana felt quite unequal to argue with him and struggled with her wet gloves, peeling them from her fingers and discarding them on the ground. She looked up to take Mr Butler's gloves but before she could grasp them Tom's hand enclosed one of hers. He pulled her up towards him, steadying her with his other arm until she was upright.

  "Let's have you on your feet, Miss Darcy." His large hand felt very warm against her cold fingers, and there was something so protective about the way that he held her that she forgot at first that her foot was still jammed in the hole. "Hang on to me, Miss Darcy," he instructed, "and pull your boot out."

  Georgiana pulled, but instead of her boot coming out, only her foot appeared. On one leg, regardless of Tom's assistance, she started to wobble and hop around until he was forced into action. Up into his arms she went, very much as she had done on that other day, but this time she tried her hardest to smile and make her thanks audible, though she was unable to speak a word.

  The sky was looking thunderous, it had turned slate grey and a few feathers of snow were settling on the brim of Mr Butler's hat as she regarded him. His arms held her tightly, their strength all too apparent through the thick cloth of his greatcoat. He felt so close she could feel his breath warm against her cheek stirring the curls which poked from under her bonnet.

  "We'll make for the stone hut," he said. "I'll leave you comfortable, then return for your boot. It's only stuck in the mud."

  He carried her up the hill, entering the ancient dwelling place when he got to the top and placing her on a large, smooth rock jutting from the ground, which did very well for a seat. "I'll be back presently, Miss Darcy, do not fear."

  As Georgiana watched him run down the hill, her hands encased in the huge gloves that he had insisted on her wearing and with a stockinged foot, feeling very wet and dirty, she saw with alarm that the snow which had started so lightly was beginning to fall thick and fast. Tom returned with her damp boot in one hand, her sketchbook and pencils in the other, and with an apologetic expression on his face.

  "Miss Darcy, I am afraid it is in a sorry state, it is not going to be of much use to you."

  "Thank you, Mr Butler, I am indebted to you for your kindness. The boot is of no consequence; so long as I can hobble back down the hill with it on, it shall have served its purpose." She eased her foot back into it, tying what was left of the broken lace.

  Tom looked up at the skies. "I think it is only a flurry; it might be as well to remain here for a little while until it is over. That is, if you are not too soggy and uncomfortable. I shall light a fire between these stones; it won't take long."

  Georgiana watched him as he quickly gathered kindling and enough wood to start a small fire, which he soon accomplished with the aid of a tinderbox from his bag; the flames provided a cheerful glow and warmth. "Surprisingly, I feel quite snug," Georgiana replied, holding her hands toward the heat, "and I am sure you are right. There is some blue sky yonder, so it will be all over in a quarter of an hour. At least we are sheltered here, if not entirely by the roof then by the large arms of the beech tree."

  "In that case," said Tom, "I declare it is time for a picnic." Reaching for his bag once more, from within its depths he produced a cloth-covered bundle fragrant with the smell of freshly baked bread. A hunk of cheese, a knife, and a bottle of sweet cider completed the repast. The snowy cloth was undone and the bread sliced. All at once, Tom's face fell. "Miss Darcy, do excuse me, I got quite carried away for a moment. What must you be thinking of my peasant's meal?"

  "Oh, no, Mr Butler," Georgiana was able to say sincerely, "it truly looks delicious and I am honoured that you wish to share it. You are so generous and I am sure I do not deserve all this attention."

  Tom became the jovial young man she remembered on their first acquaintance, assuring her that he could think of nothing nicer than to share his nuncheon, even if he was sitting with the most accident-prone young lady of his acquaintance.

  "I think you mean clumsy," Georgiana remarked shyly. "I am always getting into scrapes."

  "Well, I hope if you get into any more that I shall be here to help you get out of them," Tom answered with a laugh.

  Georgiana forgot her shyness for a moment and laughed too, only stopping when she realised that Tom was staring at her. She did not know where to look and studied the chunk of cheese she was holding as if it were the most interesting object in the world.

  "It's not true what some say in the village," he said, "that the Darcys are proud and reserved."

  Georgiana looked up and, as much as it pained her to speak out, she retaliated in her brother's favour. "People only say my brother is full of pride because they do not know him. I am certain if you asked those villagers with whom he is acquainted, then you would hear a fairer report. As for myself, if I have ever given cause for offence by my manner, I am sorry for it. It was not done with intent."

  "Forgive me, Miss Darcy, I have been rude and outspoken. I meant only that on closer acquaintance I now realise that what could be perceived as an appearance of cool reserve masks other traits in your personality."

  "And now you are to accuse me of being haughty and disdainful, I suppose, Mr Butler, and I do not think I can refute it. On your first day at Pemberley I was not very welcoming, I think."

  "No, Miss Darcy, you are quite wrong. I see before me a very cordial and friendly young woman in her close circle, but one who is rather diffident and shy amongst strangers, perhaps even uncomfortable in the company of men other than those with whom she is intimate."

  Mr Butler's words startled her; it was as if he knew her mind, her most personal thoughts, and she did not like it. How dare he presume to know so much about her, she thought, as she considered his impudent remarks. Georgiana blushed and after brushing the crumbs from her pelisse, she stood up and in a defiant gesture proffered the borrowed gloves toward her companion. "I thank you for the food and for your assistance, Mr Butler, but I think I will be missed from home and must be going now. Good-bye."

  "Miss Darcy, please wait. I beg your forgiveness," he implored, jumping to his feet. "I have overstepped the mark, I know. Please accept my apology. I did not mean to be impertinent. Please let me escort you back down the hill."

  Her first instinct had been to put up her defences, the armour-like shield of stiff impenetrable pride she always wore when anyone threatened to become too close. She wanted to
deny him the privilege of walking with her, yet knew she did not want to quarrel with him. Georgiana hesitated, not knowing quite what to do, but deciding to wait for him to gather his things said rather stiffly, "Yes, I will accept your apology."

  Despite the falling snow they started to walk. Georgiana wanted to speak but could not find the nerve. "I must learn to be bolder," she said to herself before biting her lip and deciding in a rush that she would speak her mind.

  "You are impertinent, Mr Butler, but that does not mean that you did not speak the truth. I do feel at ease with people I know very well, but I do not consider that there is anything unusual in that. Are you always unconstrained in the company of those who are strangers to you?"

  "I am fortunate, Miss Darcy, that there are few situations where I do not feel equal to my company. Shyness is something I have never been troubled with, and I must admit I am surprised that a Darcy, a person richly born, significant amongst their society, and with every advantage of esteem by others, can suffer in such a way."

  Georgiana remained silent. There was too much to say that she could not possibly relate. Let him think what he wanted. Besides, she thought him quite arrogant. How dare he speak to her in that way.