Caroline was determined that this trip she would finally extract Mr. Darcy’s proposal. There would be no women with fine eyes trying to hoard all of his attentions. Her brother had implied Darcy was feeling lonely these days, and she could charm Miss Darcy. Yes. She needed all of these trunks and bags. Charles might be going for the summer, but she intended to stay.
∞∞∞
Darcy, unaware of Miss Bingley’s plans, was looking with great pleasure toward summering in the country. Being in London, he felt like a caged animal. He had been fidgeting all morning. If he were at Pemberley he would go for a ride, but here he was at a loss for what to do. Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley had left early that morning to enjoy some shopping. He had been having trouble focusing on reading and had already completed his correspondence for the day. Now it felt as if all his mind would permit him to do was to think of Elizabeth and what his future would look like without her. He dreaded the feel of a big empty house and was loath to think that once Georgiana married, this would be his constant reality.
Cedrick walked toward his study carrying a letter. The echo of his footsteps only served to remind Darcy how lonely he would be. As if to gather strength, he thought, In a few days’ time I will be back at Pemberley. By bringing a large party to summer with him, it was unlikely he would again find himself alone.
“A letter, sir,” Cedrick said upon entering the room.
Several moments of silence passed while Darcy tried to pinpoint when it was solitude had shifted from a pleasurable reprieve to torture. Cedrick watched his master patiently. He was growing worried. Cedrick coughed. He had not meant to. He had a persistent cold that he simply could not shake.
The sound of the cough roused Darcy from his thoughts. He turned and looked at Cedrick. “You seem to have lost some weight, Cedrick. Have you seen a doctor?”
“I just have a cold, sir. I should be fine in a week or so.” Darcy frowned. Cedrick would be staying at the London house this summer. He would need to ask the head housekeeper to keep an eye on the boy. If he did not improve, she should insist he see a doctor. Cedrick walked closer, “Your letter?”
“Thank you,” Darcy said taking the missive and turning it over. “It is from my steward.” He broke the seal and quickly scanned the contents before adding, “It looks as if I will be leaving for Pemberley tomorrow.”
“Is it serious?” Cedrick asked with concern.
“No. But please see that my things are readied.”
Chapter 27
Darcy’s ride from London had been long and exhausting. He had been so anxious to get back to Pemberley he had not gone out of the way to locate especially comfortable inns. The end result being he was now tired, dirty, and a touch sore. But when his horse came over the crest and he could see the green expanse of his estate spread out before him, he knew it was all worth it. A sense of serenity filled him, and he felt the surge of new energy. He listened to the sounds around him: the twittering of birds, the wind whispering through the trees, a distant babble of running water. He still longed for a bath and a nice log nap, but he no longer felt the stress of any physical discomforts.
He rode to the stables. The groom was surprised to see him, but the conversation was kept brief. Darcy closed his eyes briefly and inhaled the scent of gardenias, honeysuckles, and rosemary. He was home. His own personal paradise. Here at Pemberley, he could envision himself happy, even without her by his side. He walked up the back road and noticed the doorway to the hall was opened. He hopped up the steps two at a time. He could hear his gardener inside the hall giving someone details about the house. It was almost certainly someone he did not know for he was expecting no visitors. He was curious who the visitor might be and would certainly sneak a peek. But if it was as he suspected, he would quietly slip in and hurry up the back stairs to the sanctuary of his bedchambers.
As he crossed the threshold, he noted that his gardener was engaged in conversation with a middle-aged man whom he did not recognize. He was about to step toward the stairs when his eyes caught sight of something, which turned out to be someone. And not just any someone… it was Elizabeth! He blinked and stared in wonderment. Was she truly here? At Pemberley? Their eyes had locked onto each other, and he could see the color rise in her cheeks just as he felt the heat growing in his own. She looked away, and this seemed to bring him back to his senses. He walked toward her, making the rest of those in the room aware of his presence.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, his voice betraying the excitement and surprise he felt, “welcome to Pemberley. Is your family well?”
“Yes, very.” Lizzy’s embarrassment had left her a little tongue tied and she could not form a more complete response.
“I did not know you were traveling to Derbyshire. When did you arrive?”
“Late yesterday, sir.”
“I see,” Darcy looked at her hair. A lock had escaped her bun and cascaded down her neck in a spiral. The dark tress against her alabaster skin seemed to call to him. It looked so soft and silky. Oh, how he longed to touch it. “And when did you arrive at Pemberley?”
“Today. We arrived an hour ago and just completed a tour of your home. We were about to explore the gardens.”
“Hummmm,” he said not really listening to any of the words they were exchanging, instead listening to the light, musical tones of her voice. “And when did you arrive in Derbyshire?” he asked again not comprehending that he had asked the question before.
“We arrived in Derbyshire in the evening, yesterday. We have not explored much yet as we went straight to the inn upon our arrival.”
“I see. And how is your family?”
“Very well, thank you,” Lizzy’s cheeks burned with intensity. She should never have come here. What must he think of her being here at his home?
“And did you just arrive at Pemberley?”
Lizzy would normally be very amused by Mr. Darcy’s level of distraction, but her own discomfort prevented her from faulting him for his awkward and circular conversation. She felt a sense of relief when, after a few moments of silence, he eventually excused himself and went up the staircase.
Darcy ascended the stairs, all thoughts of napping long forgotten. She was here. She was not a fantasy or an apparition. She had spoken. His mind replayed the conversation and without the beauty standing before him distracting him, he was able to process her words. Dear God! Had he really been such a fumbling idiot? He put aside all thoughts, determined to concentrate on washing and changing clothes as quickly as possible. She was here and it was clearly a sign. He needed to get back to her before the opportunity was gone.
He reached his room and considered ringing for a valet, but feeling this would cause too great a delay, he readied himself. It seemed he had not been gone for more than fifteen minutes, but she was no longer in the hall. Of course. The gardener had been speaking to them. Undoubtedly, he could find them on the grounds. He hurried outside and schooled himself on making a proper impression this time. No more incoherent, repetitive mumbling. He had been presented to royalty, he had spoken in front of audiences, he would find a way to keep it together and maintain a conversation. He stepped out onto the back porch and descended the steps he had climbed less than half an hour before. He did not note the sights, sounds, or smells that surrounded him this time. He was focused exclusively on finding Elizabeth.
His staff were often asked for tours of the house and grounds. They tended to follow a specific route. Darcy hoped that today would be no different, although she had managed to surprise him a great many times. It would not be unheard of if she asked to explore some obscure path. The thought made him quicken his pace. He spotted them through a clearing in the trees and breathed a sigh of relief. He knew exactly which path they stood upon. He hurried toward the end of the route they would be walking toward. Moments later, he once again came face to face with Elizabeth and her party and his relief was overwhelming.
“Miss Elizabeth, I apologize for my earlier departure. I hope Mr. Wa
lters has been able to answer any questions you have as you explore the park.”
She looked as nervous as he felt. “He has done a wonderful job of showing us your delightful estate. Pemberley is simply charming.” Lizzy colored a deep red as soon as the words had left her mouth. What must he think of her appearing at his estate like this? And then her praise! He must think her a mercenary come to her senses who had hunted him down in an effort to solicit a second offer.
Darcy could not have been more pleased to hear she liked Pemberley, and had he any inkling she would consider a second offer he would have dropped to his knees and begged for her hand, despite the pain and humiliation he had felt so acutely the first time. But she could not make eye contact, and she showed obvious discomfort, leaving him with no doubt that she was not here on his account.
Chapter 28
Lydia put on her prettiest gown and her new bonnet. She pinched her cheeks to give them a nice rosy appearance and bit down on her lips, hoping to add color as well as perhaps some fullness. She lifted a small bottle off the vanity. She had placed the rind of an orange as well as several fragrant flowers in a small vial of water two days prior. She removed the lid and smelled the concoction. Her nose wrinkled, and she quickly set it back down. Oh, how she wished she had purchased some toilette water.
A small series of soft taps came from her window. She hurried across the room and looked down to find George holding a handful of pebbles, about to toss one more in her direction. She waved and he silently motioned for her to come join him. With effort, she suppressed her urge to call out to him. But the excitement of sneaking off and the fun of shocking everyone were more powerful than her desire to sing to the heavens that she had found love.
Lydia had always known that she would be the first to marry, but she could not discount the help she had received from Mrs. Forster who had managed to convince her husband to spare George so they would have an escort. It did not take long to discover he was smart, dashing, athletic, and charming. It would not have hurt if he had been given his rightful inheritance, but now that she was in love, money was of no importance. The moment she was certain they were meant to be together occurred on a particularly hot day. After exploring the library, the trio had planned to stop by the dress makers and view some new shipments. Mrs. Forster had come down with a splitting headache and needed to go home to rest.
“Please do not feel you must return on my account, Lydia,” Mrs. Foster said pulling Lydia to the side. “You are hardly in need of an escort walking through the center of town. With so many eyes, it would be impossible for any sort of impropriety to occur. Besides, I trust Lieutenant Wickham.” So it was settled, and for the first time since leaving home, Lydia found herself alone with a man.
As they walked toward the shop, George wiped his forehead. “It is rather hot. I know of a place we could cool down. Do you want me to show you?”
It took very little to entice Lydia to agree. She loved adventure, and after so many weeks, she longed to explore somewhere other than the shops and the camp. George led her out of town to a trail in the woods. It was ever so exciting being away from those ‘many eyes.’ She felt a little wicked, and she liked that feeling. Soon they arrived at a rather large stream. It appeared to be six feet deep at its center was probably ten feet across. It looked so refreshing and cool. They both sat on a rock near the edge and dangled their feet into the running water. After several minutes, George asked if she would mind if he went for a quick swim.
Lydia thought it would be hilarious to see a man walking back to camp in clothes that were dripping wet. To see such a sight she not only agreed but encouraged him to give into his folly. Imagine her surprise when he undressed to his short drawers and shirt and then dove into the water! It happened so quickly, and she was so stunned, she did not know how to respond. Once she recovered her senses, she laughed. But oh, once he popped up to the surface and she saw the wet shirt clinging to his toned chest… that was the moment she knew she was in love.
Lydia could have replayed that day over in her mind a million times, but another pebble hit her window pane and jogged her from her thoughts. She nodded to him and walked to the door of her room. It was still before dawn so the room was very dim. She had not wanted to light any candles for fear it might alert someone to her plans. Quietly she turned the door knob and started out the door. Then she stopped, turned back, and retrieved a letter she had written from the desk. She would leave this somewhere a little more noticeable. With her missive in hand, she glided down the stairs as stealthy as a cat. This morning was the start of her bright future, and she could not imagine feeling happier.
George impatiently waited outside. He shuddered to think what would happen to him should this clandestine meeting be discovered. A large part of him wondered why he was even here. Maybe he held a small amount of resentment toward Elizabeth. When they had first met, she had seemed very taken with his charms, but now her treatment was dismissive. He did not like the shift and took it somewhat personally. Or maybe it was because Lydia shared some facial features and expressions with her older sister, and if he looked at her just right, he could pretend the child was really Elizabeth. No. Those might be contributing factors, but the truth was he was tired of this life.
George had been paid five and twenty pounds to join the militia. He was fulfilling the obligation of a man whose father owned a very small estate, and it would be impossible to extract any more money from that family. Military life was tolerable enough at first, but here in Brighton they slept in tents, the shop owners had seen enough of the militia to deny credit to every officer, and his days were filled with either drills or chauffeuring around a giggling chit. Ruining a girl would prevent him from returning in a day’s time with his tail between us legs. Once he took Lydia Bennet away from Brighton, this chapter in his life would finally be closed, and no amount of fear would allow him to reopen that door.
Lydia closed the front door behind her so softly George double checked to make sure it was really closed. She was about to speak when he held a finger to her lips as a signal to remain silent for now. It was not until they were a ten-minute walk from the Forsters’ house when she was finally allowed to speak.
“Oh George, I am so excited! I have never been to Scotland before. Do you think we should stay there for a few weeks after the ceremony on holiday?”
“I have a better idea, my love. I know how you adore London. What if we holiday in London first and then go to Greta Green? I would not suggest it except I know how we have both missed the city, and London is a thousand times more interesting than Scotland.”
Lydia considered his proposal. If they were to go to London, perhaps they could marry there and Kitty could meet the new Mrs. George Wickham. She was dying to see the look of envy on Kitty’s face. The two agreed and set off on a path that would forever change both of their lives.
Chapter 29
Lizzy was holding a letter from Jane entirely unaware that more than two hundred miles away her sister had recently created the most salacious of scandals. Had she considered it, she would have assumed it was she who had levied the most embarrassment upon her family by visiting the estate of Mr. Darcy without invitation and causing such an awkward scene. But over the past few days, she had begun to reconsider her thoughts on the matter. Mr. Darcy had been extraordinarily kind and civil to all members of her party, even going so far as to call on them at the inn, introducing them to his sister, asking them to dinner, and inviting her uncle to join him in fishing on his estate.
It was rare that Lizzy felt she had completely misjudged another. Yet Mr. Darcy’s hospitality, kindness, and civility had caused her to seriously doubt her ability to discern one’s character. Mr. Darcy also began to doubt his feelings as they related to Elizabeth. He had arrived at Pemberley believing he could accept the inevitability of a life without her. He had even hoped one day he could encounter her and feel nothing more than one might feel towards a friend. But every minute he had spent near her
over the last several days had convinced him they were made for each other. Watching her and Georgiana interact, he was certain that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was supposed to be part of his life forever. The idea she could one day marry another, made him feel ill. He needed to do all that was in his power to fix his mistakes and win her heart.
As he strolled to the inn, he determined he would begin by attempting to undo the pain he had caused her favorite sister. He had long struggled with telling Bingley what he had learned while at Rosings Park, but now he felt resolved to reveal all to his friend. He entered the inn, at last feeling hopeful toward his future with the woman he loved. After asking to see Miss Bennet, a servant brought him to an upstairs room.
When the door opened, Miss Elizabeth was standing just inside the threshold an open letter in hand. It appeared she was about to exit the room. Her manner, color, and expression showed something terrible must have happened. It took everything in his power not to embrace her. The servant was sent to retrieve the Gardiners while he waited with her. At length, she confessed that her youngest sister had eloped with George Wickham. She took full blame for the misfortune, feeling she had not done all in her power to alert her family of Wickham’s true character. These admonishments cut deep, for Darcy too had thought it was his own failings that had led to this disaster. Had he been more forthcoming about Wickham’s misdeeds, this would never have happened. If he had not been so guarded of the Ramsgate incident, Elizabeth might have felt able to share at least some of it with her father, providing her sister with some protection. He had known better than any that Lydia Bennet lacked propriety and self-restraint, her father imposed no control, and Wickham was just the sort of man to take advantage of such a situation. Elizabeth had never been an impartial observer and would not be able to predict this course of events, but Darcy knew he could not claim the same.
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