by Pamela Lynne
Table of Contents
Beginning
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Acknowledgements
Coming Soon
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Dearest Friends
Copyright © 2014 by Pamela Lynne
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any format whatsoever.
Cover art by JD Smith Design
Layout by EnterpriseBookServices.com
For Lance, my calm after the storm.
Chapter One
* * *
London, January 1812
Darcy’s eyes fluttered open at dawn after another restless night spent in the company of melancholy thoughts and fine port. He stared up at the canopy, released a heavy sigh, and then turned to the window, which showed pale whispers of light through the gloomy London fog.
Another day. He forced himself out of bed. Another day of duty and obligations. He would breakfast with Georgiana, though neither of them ate much, then spend hours at his desk tending to estate duties. Afternoons were spent in the library as he tried to concentrate on the words on the pages. He would always wander into those dark places that were becoming all too familiar: thoughts of his parents, of Wickham, of Bingley, of Georgiana, and always thoughts of her.
Elizabeth.
She was there, just under the surface of his everyday existence, the what-if that nagged at his conscience, teasing him with thoughts of a life just out of his reach. He left Hertfordshire months ago, but his heart, what little there was of it, remained there with her.
He longed for her. He wanted to bask in the warmth radiating from her fine eyes and to be the object of her tireless devotion. This longing added to the terrible ache in his chest that had been growing since his mother died nearly fifteen years prior. He wanted to go back for her, but that would mean facing Wickham and Bingley and setting aside the obligations he had struggled to meet all his life—obligations of society and family, obligations to Georgiana, who was slowly succumbing to her own sadness. No, fulfilling his obligations in no way meant tending to his own happiness, which added bitterness to that terrible pain.
He strode to the window and placed his hand on the glass. He spread his fingers on the cold pane and stared as light streamed between them. Darcy was not a man who needed the company of others to keep him occupied. He never felt the need to perform to strangers or friends for that matter, but this new kind of solitude weighed on him. He closed his hand into a fist as his memory drifted back to November when he had danced with an angel but then found the devil waiting for him when the music stopped.
He shook his head, refusing to think any more on that night. He needed to get out, to move. He turned from the window and allowed his thoughts to focus on his sister. She was nearly as miserable as he was, and he had no idea how to help her. The near elopement with Wickham left her heartbroken and crushed what little confidence she had previously claimed. They tried to talk about what happened, but his own anger and hurt over the situation kept him from being truly open to her. Perhaps I shall go shopping and find a little something for her that will bring a light to her eyes, if only for a moment. Setting his course for the day, he turned from the window and rang for his valet.
********
Elizabeth stood at the window of her bedroom in her uncle’s London home and pressed her head against the cold glass. How long is this going to last? She never let sad thoughts overtake her or even linger long, but this ache had been with her constantly since she left Longbourn in December. She loved her uncle and his family dearly, but their liveliness and care had not been enough to lift the somber mood that had settled over her. She tried her best to put on a happy air but knew she was failing to convince those around her that she was content. She was, in fact, very lonely. The feelings of anger and betrayal toward her family that had dominated her mind in the first few weeks of their estrangement had given way to grief and a severe longing that she feared would be her constant companion.
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself as she called to mind her last months in Hertfordshire. She remembered hopeful conversations with Jane and spirited debates with her father. All her memories caused her pain, but those were the ones that pierced her heart. They had been her entire world, at least the best parts, but that life was gone. She wondered now if it had existed anywhere but her own mind. Was she so willful that she saw only what we wanted to see, and not what was real?
She also remembered a pair of deep-sapphire eyes that had followed her for weeks. She had believed those eyes held a look of superior hauteur, but looking back, she recognized the same fear and longing she saw in her own reflection.
Mr. Darcy.
She reflected on their brief acquaintance with something like regret. She had allowed her wounded vanity and the venomous words of a man she now knew as a rake and a liar to keep her from knowing the most intelligent and fascinating man she had ever met. If she had not been so foolish, perhaps she would have at least one friend in this lonely, gloomy city.
Elizabeth sighed heavily and stood away from the window. She could not allow things go on this way. She was not, after all, formed for ill humor. She had decided the evening before that it was time to stop spending every spare moment lost in melancholy thoughts. Her aunt was taking her shopping, and she planned to buy new books and music that would help her transform into a truly accomplished lady, not just one who would pass in Hertfordshire. She drew a determined breath, grabbed her pelisse and bonnet, and headed for the stairs.
********
Darcy made long strides down the street from his townhome to his favorite bookstore where he hoped he would find a rare treasure. The proprietor, Mr. Lawrence, would sometimes come across rare editions, which would be set aside for Darcy’s viewing before they were made public. Perhaps fortune would be in his favor. The brisk walk had done him good as his spirits began to lift slightly.
As he approached the bookstore, the sight before him made him stop suddenly. Just ahead of him, walking toward the store from the opposite direction, was Elizabeth Bennet. She was with an older woman, and they were speaking amiably. As they came to the storefront, they stopped and embraced each other’s hands. The older woman then turned and crossed the street while Elizabeth slipped inside the bookshop.
His heart beat wildly as he approached the door. Inside was the woman he had admired for months and was certain he would never see again. Could he approach her? Could he speak to her, look into her eyes, smell her fresh lavender scent, and then walk away? After once more being in her presence, would he have the strength to fig
ht his attraction and face a life of loneliness and desperation? Coming to a decision, he drew a determined breath, squared his shoulders, and opened the door.
********
Elizabeth walked into the store and gave a slight smile to the man behind the counter. She breathed in the intoxicating smell of leather and parchment and felt her spirits somewhat lighten. As she covetously caressed the volumes of poetry, she made her way to the aisle containing works of French philosophers and historians. Today was the day that she was to begin a rigorous study of language and music, not only to fill her time, but also to prepare her for whatever the future held. She had always known that she could one day have to seek a position of governess or companion to support herself, but until now, she did not truly believe that would be her path. As she resolved to face her future—whatever it brought—she heard the door to the shop open and looked up.
Their eyes met as soon as he walked through the door. She had spent so much time thinking about him since she came to London that she was unsure if it was actually him or if she had somehow conjured the figure in the doorway. She soon saw the reality of his form as he stood before her and bowed elegantly.
“Miss Bennet. What a great pleasure it is to see you. I trust you are well.” Though his tone was formal, Darcy managed a warm smile. Nerves wracked his body, but he was somehow able to keep his voice steady. The vision before him was one he had seen in his dreams almost every night. Her simple elegance, her beautiful chocolate curls, her expressive eyes, everything about her called out to him. Just as it had been from almost the first moment they met, he could not take his eyes off her.
Elizabeth felt a slight blush sweep across her face as she basked in his warmth and replied, “I am well, sir, and happy to see you again. You are in good health, I see.” She managed to smile as she spoke, but neither she nor Darcy believed it.
He studied her curiously. Is she unhappy in my presence? Something is making her uncomfortable. She seems almost sad. “I am. And your family? Are they all well?”
She swallowed and looked down. “I believe so, sir. The last I heard, they were all in good health.”
He noticed her expression darken, and his concern increased. “When did you come to London? Do you plan to stay long?”
“Yes, I have come to stay with my aunt and uncle Gardiner. I have been here since early December and have no plans to leave anytime soon.” Again, a look of sadness swept across her delicate features. His heart sank at the idea that something had happened to make her somber when she had always been so lively and sweet. What could be so terrible that it would change her so?
Darcy was not one to break propriety, but her sadness compelled him to reach out to her. He traced a gloved finger softly down her temple to her jaw and spoke softly. “Forgive me if I presume too much, Miss Bennet, but does something trouble you? The beautiful glow that is an integral part of your countenance seems to have faded somewhat. Is there a reason you are no longer at Longbourn?” Her hand now rested in his as he looked down at her with a sincere expression of concern, his eyes begging for her confidence.
His entire demeanor, coupled with the firm but gentle grasp of his hand, made her want to fall into his chest and release all the emotions that had plagued her for the last two months. Just as she was opening her mouth to unburden herself, they heard a voice coming from behind him.
********
“Mr. Darcy, what a pleasant surprise to see you. It has been far too long.” As the feminine voice flowed over them, Darcy released Elizabeth’s hand and turned to face their new companion. He bowed but, Elizabeth noticed, did not take the lady’s hand.
“Lady Grace. Indeed, I am surprised to see you in this store as well.”
Elizabeth glanced up at him and saw the same look of hauteur he displayed at all social functions in Meryton. Apparently, it was not only country society he disdained, but high society as well. The lady herself was quite beautiful with blonde curls and green eyes. She was adorned in feathers and jewels and was far more interested in being seen than shopping for books.
“Lady Grace, may I introduce you to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire. Miss Bennet, this is Lady Grace Barry, daughter to the Earl of Barrymore. Her brother and I attended Cambridge together.”
“Your Ladyship,” Elizabeth said as she curtsied. She rose with a polite smile on her face, which was met by a cold nod. Elizabeth bit her lip in an effort not to smirk at the intended slight as the lady turned her attention back to Darcy.
“Mr. Darcy, Mother is across the street at Gunter’s. You must join us for tea.”
He studied the woman in front of him. She was typical of the ton: beautiful, accomplished with a flashing smile, and no soul. She had been after his money for as long as her mother had been after his person. Her family had provided him with one of his first hard lessons about London society after his father died.
Her brother, David, had been, Darcy believed, a good friend during his years in Cambridge. Not long after Darcy came into his inheritance, David began pushing his elder sister at him. After she gave up and married some baron, David repeated this behavior with his younger sister, Lady Grace. Every meeting involved hearing all her virtues and how the connection between the two families would be mutually beneficial.
All the while, their mother was making overtures of her own.
Though one of England’s oldest families, the Barrys had lost much of their fortune due to Lord Barrymore’s extravagant lifestyle, which included gambling and many, many women. These were habits David had taken up as well. The desire for a union was less about felicity and more about their need for Darcy’s money. The whole business turned his stomach, and he eventually stopped accepting invitations to their home or to any outing with David. This behavior was repeated with several other acquaintances, and he was left with few people he could be certain were real friends.
Darcy looked at Elizabeth and saw she was more amused than offended at the situation in front of her. He could not stop a small smile from escaping. She was so sweet and unaffected by the shrew in front of her who tried to make her feel like less than nothing. Even in her current sadness, she was life itself. No, indeed, he could not again be in her presence and walk away.
“My apologies, Lady Grace, but I am escorting Miss Bennet during her shopping this morning. Please give your family my regards.” He made a slight bow as he looped Elizabeth’s arm through his and then all but dragged her from the store.
They were a few steps away from the shop when Elizabeth stopped and tugged on his arm, causing him to stop as well. He had the pleasure of her acquaintance long enough to know she would not appreciate being dragged anywhere. He hung his head slightly and turned to face her, expecting to be upbraided or at least teased for his officious handling of the awkward situation. As expected, she did not appear pleased and anticipated an explanation.
He sighed as he placed his hand over the one that still held his arm. The warmth returned to his eyes as he spoke. “Forgive me, Miss Bennet, I fear I prevented you from making your purchases and gave you no choice but to tolerate my company for the rest of the morning. We were having a conversation, and I was annoyed by the interruption and wanted to return to it as soon as possible. I promise to make it up to you. Please forgive me.”
The sensation of his hand caressing hers while looking into his pleading eyes nearly made her knees buckle. She resisted that impulse, however, but gave in to a more familiar one. She smiled and answered, “Mr. Darcy, I am afraid I must question the sincerity of your apology. I do not believe for one second you are sorry to have left the bookstore as you were so obviously unhappy with the company there. I think my desire to stay or go never entered your mind.”
He looked down at her and tried to curtail his amusement at her impertinence as he answered, “I am sorry for having inconvenienced you, Miss Bennet.”
She replied with a questioning look and an arched eyebrow.
“Very well, Miss Bennet. I am a sel
fish being and thought only of how I could continue the pleasure of your company and escape the displeasure of hers as quickly as possible. I took no consideration of your own feelings and offer my most sincere apology. Does that answer satisfy you, madam?”
His eyes danced as he watched her. He had missed their exchanges and loved the fact that she was not afraid to challenge him as no one else ever did.
Then something happened that had not occurred in weeks. Elizabeth laughed.
“Mr. Darcy, your reluctant honesty has earned you a reprieve from my ire. I was quite annoyed at being torn away from my perusal of French philosophies, and I prepared to spend the next hour painstakingly choosing thread and sampler patterns just to torture you. Instead, I only ask that you help me select new sheet music.”
The pleasure Darcy felt standing on a busy London sidewalk with Elizabeth on his arm, her beautiful smile directed only at him, was overwhelming. This is what life is supposed to feel like—warmth, joy, and companionship. Elizabeth.
They started walking as he replied, “I will gladly follow where you lead me, Miss Bennet. Whether it be to the music shop, the milliners, or anywhere else you wish to go.”
She laughed again. “That could be dangerous, Mr. Darcy. Are you sure you wish me to have such power?”
He caressed her hand again and, before he could think about what he was saying, replied, “With all my heart, Miss Bennet.”
********
The next half hour was spent discussing their favorite arias and operas as they perused the vast collection of sheet music. Elizabeth chose a piece she would have previously thought above her skill, but with her new determination to better herself, she decided to attempt it.
Noticing her selection, Darcy asked, “Do you speak Italian, Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, but very ill, which is why I selected this particular piece. I should be able to improve both my skill at the pianoforte and my Italian at the same time.”