by C. P. Odom
Mrs. Gardiner greeted him warmly in the front parlour, which was already occupied by several couples. He nodded greetings to those he knew, and Mrs Gardiner introduced him to the remaining pair. One was a painter who was beginning to be recognised, and the other taught at Cambridge. Darcy again marvelled at the diversity of people the Gardiners knew, and he was acutely aware that he found the conversation at Mrs. Gardiner’s dinner parties more engaging than at most of the other social engagements he attended.
An unfamiliar painting caught his eye, and he was brought up short when he stepped over to inspect it. The painting was an excellently rendered portrait of the four remaining Bennet sisters. He was stunned by the skill of the painter in capturing each subject so accurately, but he had little interest in three of them. His eyes were locked on the petite girl sitting in front, and he felt his stomach roil as he saw his Elizabeth looking back at him from the canvas.
Not my Elizabeth, he thought unhappily.
The portrait was large, nearly half life-size, and Darcy turned his head when he realised someone had stepped up beside him.
“Are you unwell, Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Gardiner asked.
“No, no. I just felt a little dizzy for a moment, but I am well now.”
“Are you sure? May I—”
“I was just admiring your new portrait.” He could see Mrs. Gardiner was pleased he had taken notice.
“Is it not marvellous?” she asked. “Mr. Haines finished it just last week. Each of the girls posed when they came to visit, and I think he has captured all of them impeccably.”
“It is excellent work,” Darcy agreed.
He thought Haines had captured Elizabeth with remarkable skill, but he could tell she had tried to maintain a look of serenity for the portrait.
The artist had captured more than her beauty, though that aspect of his portrait was enough to make Darcy’s heart ache with the memory of her. It also showed a look of wistful sadness behind Elizabeth’s pretence of tranquillity, and Darcy’s throat tightened with the knowledge that Elizabeth had been so unfairly trapped by the machinations of Wickham and the foolishness of her sister.
For what seemed the thousandth time, Darcy had an overwhelming impulse to ride to Hertfordshire and try again to win her affection, but then he heard Elizabeth’s voice in his ears, raised in righteous wrath as she blasted his hopes forever. He was certain he could not endure another such rejection, and he had no doubt one would be issued instantly and vociferously. No, it could never be.
***
Mrs. Gardiner saw the emotions chase across her friend’s handsome visage as he fought to regain his composure.
It was not until later in the evening that Elizabeth’s aunt had a chance to talk to her husband about what she had witnessed.
“I am beginning to think there is some past connexion between one of our nieces and Mr. Darcy,” she told him, and Mr. Gardiner raised his eyebrows at the notion.
She related what she had observed earlier. “You should have seen him. He went pale as a sheet and almost reeled against the wall, but he could not take his eyes off the portrait. And he did not hear me at first when I asked if he was feeling unwell.”
“That does sound rather curious. I wonder why the painting moved him. It is well executed, to be sure, but Mr. Darcy is far too sensible to be overly affected by the artistic merits of a family portrait.”
“Exactly! He was affected by someone in the portrait, and I am certain it has to be Lizzy.”
“Elizabeth! That is quite surprising, but you are likely correct. We know she met him again when she visited her friend in Kent.”
“And Jane was always interested in Mr. Bingley. But if Mr. Darcy were interested in Lizzy, why did he never act on the attraction? I know the scandal has tainted the sisters’ reputations, but the reaction I saw tonight looked far too strong to be daunted by the opinions of others.”
“And remember what he did for Lydia. He told us his reasons, which are decidedly reasonable if somewhat unusual. However, his actions would be even more understandable if he had been attracted to Elizabeth.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s brows knit in consternation. “I wonder why, if Darcy had developed a preference for Lizzy, he never showed any sign of it. Certainly, Lizzy has been most forthright in declaring her opinion of him.”
“Very likely he means to make a more suitable marriage, my dear. Even before the distasteful events, the Bennet family could have little to attract a connexion with such a family as Darcy’s.”
“The reaction I saw in him tonight makes me wonder. He looked in pain as he stared at the portrait.”
“Interesting,” he said thoughtfully. “But obviously, nothing could have happened between the two of them when they knew each other in Hertfordshire. It was too brief an acquaintance.”
“It was long enough for Jane to develop a preference for Mr. Bingley. She has never recovered from her disappointment when he left Netherfield.”
“True,” her husband said sadly. “Well, all of this is in the past and cannot be changed. It does little good to dwell on unhappy memories. One has to put such events in their place and move on to the affairs of the present.”
“I have a feeling Mr. Darcy would not be able to follow that advice if you were to give it, my dear.”
“That is often the case when one offers advice,” responded Mr. Gardiner with a chuckle and a twinkle in his eye.
“So, what do we do—simply ignore the situation?”
“It would probably be more prudent, but I recognise the look on your face. You want to do something, do you not?”
“I cannot ignore the distress I saw tonight. I like Mr. Darcy, and I cannot bear to think of him in such pain. And there is Elizabeth’s welfare to think of. She will be fortunate to marry a tradesman with a respectable income. She will be inclined to settle for a marriage of convenience because she dearly wants a family. We cannot allow that to happen. Can you think of anything we can do?”
“Your comment about Lizzy’s reduced prospects is pertinent. In truth, Darcy could provide a more substantial home for their children, and I do not doubt he would treat her well. It is assuredly a challenging dilemma, but we need more information. Perhaps I can raise the subject of their past if I can find the proper moment.”
“And when would that moment be?”
“It would have to be sometime when Darcy and I were alone. Perhaps I can find an occasion to invite him here.”
“It would have to be most tactfully done, Edward.” Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “It is fortunate that tact is one of your strong points.”
“And your kind heart again reminds me why I married you, my dear.” He returned her smile before easing her nightgown from her shoulders. She stepped gracefully out of it and went into his open arms.
***
Friday, October 4, 1816
Gardiner residence, London
It was almost a month before Darcy called again, responding to Mr. Gardiner’s invitation to join him for an evening of billiards. Darcy had been disturbed in the interim to find that his desire for Elizabeth Bennet was as great as ever. He had planned to depart for Pemberley by now, but he was sleeping badly and drinking more than was good for him.
The emptiness of his house was like a tomb, and he knew what was needed to fill it, but that person considered him unfit for gentle company. At least he had more diversions to occupy himself in town: friends, clubs, and a steady stream of invitations.
He usually only accepted those from close friends, but he had responded to a few from more casual acquaintances even though he knew many of them hoped to bring him into company with one or more of their unmarried daughters. He thought he might find someone who appealed to him and could make him forget Elizabeth Bennet, but as he had expected, every one of those young ladies had manners all too similar
to those of Caroline Bingley. Each evening had left him more dissatisfied than before.
The two men had been playing for an hour when Mr. Gardiner judged the right moment had come for conversation. They had said little during the evening, comfortable in silence and concentrating on the game. Darcy had consumed several glasses of port, and Mr. Gardiner could see he was feeling somewhat more relaxed than was his wont.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself at our dinner last month,” he said.
“Very much so. I found the conversation much more informal and extensive than many engagements I attend.”
“Splendid! My wife and I are always delighted to see you, and several of our guests remarked on your dry sense of humour.”
“I have been pleased to get to know others of your acquaintance. I confess I have spent far too many evenings being bored to tears. Your dinners are a welcome break from monotony.”
“Madeleine told me you made appreciative comments about the portrait of our nieces.” Mr. Gardiner tried his best to be casual as he made the carefully planned comment, and he watched Darcy closely to gauge his reaction.
He was a bit disappointed since Darcy was setting up his shot and showed no real reaction. After he successfully made a carom shot to win the game, he took a long drink of his port before looking at his host.
“I thought it a magnificent work,” Darcy said, appearing to choose his words with care. “I believe Haines is going to be much renowned for his portraits. It is a striking likeness of all your nieces.”
“Especially Elizabeth, do you not think?”
Darcy had taken another drink of his port, and some of it obviously went down his windpipe. He bent over immediately, coughing and trying to clear his throat, and Mr. Gardiner pounded him on the back to assist him.
When Darcy had recovered, he gave Mr. Gardiner a reproachful look.
“I am sorry to speak so bluntly, Darcy, but my wife was sure it was Elizabeth’s likeness that caught your eye when you saw our portrait.”
Darcy seemed stricken, and he stalked over to his glass of port and drained it.
“It is not as bad as all that, surely,” Mr. Gardiner said. “Lizzy would not be happy if she thought she had driven a young man to drink.”
Darcy said nothing as he carefully refilled his glass to the rim. He took a deep swallow, and his eyes were haunted as he turned back to Mr. Gardiner.
“Is Elizabeth truly as sad as she looks in her portrait?”
“Ah, you saw it too. Very perceptive of you, young man—very perceptive. Oh, she is not downcast in misery, but a definite sparkle has been missing these past few years, which leads me to a rather personal question, and please believe me that it is only my regard for you that emboldens me to ask it. Did you and Lizzy have some kind of attachment that was broken by Lydia’s elopement?”
“Oh no,” answered Darcy bitterly. “There was never any attachment between the two of us.”
“No?” Mr. Gardiner said sceptically. “But your reaction in the hall—”
“The attachment was solely on my part,” Darcy said bleakly. “Your niece had no intimation of it until…”
Mr. Gardiner said nothing and merely raised his eyebrows inquisitively. Darcy swirled the port around in his glass, shrugged, and took a deep drink.
“I feel I must explain my actions to you, Mr. Gardiner. Perhaps you had better fill your glass and join me in one of these comfortable chairs. It is not an easy story for me to relate, and it may take some time.”
***
It was much later before Mr. Gardiner was able to tell his wife what he had discovered. Darcy had been too inebriated to return home, so Mr. Gardiner had settled him in one of their empty bedrooms. As he related what Darcy had told him, Mrs. Gardiner listened carefully, her fingers twisting a curl of her hair in the way she always did when concentrating.
“My, my, what a tangled web he has woven!” she said when her husband finished.
“Truly, it is a puzzle. I had hoped to be able to offer some guidance, but I confess I cannot see an easy solution to any of this. I wish there was more time, but my sister sent me another letter last week, and she is very worried about my brother’s health.”
“I am of the opinion that neither Lizzy nor any of the girls will ever marry,” Mrs. Gardiner said decidedly. “Even though the scandal has relaxed its hold and life is not quite as dreary at Longbourn as it has been, there are simply no suitors willing to make an offer for any of them.”
“It is one of the disadvantages of living in a small, country neighbourhood, as we have discussed. And Darcy told me tonight, just before I got him into bed, that he is convinced no woman could ever match Elizabeth. And since there is already a male Darcy heir since Georgiana has a son, he plans to make his wishes explicit by changing his will so his nephew will inherit all his property and fortune. Of course, by the time he made this pronouncement he was so inebriated he could hardly stand. I have no idea how much of this he will remember in the morning.”
“But since the scandal has abated, why could he not simply go to Longbourn and ask to see Elizabeth? Unquestionably, after knowing him better, she would have to see his good qualities. She has already learned that Wickham’s charges were completely false.”
“Darcy told me he had contemplated doing just that on many occasions, but every time, he had the same nightmare. He arrives at Longbourn, presents his card, only to have it returned by the housekeeper, who then closes the door in his face.”
“Oh my! And Lizzy might have her do that. She is not as patient as she used to be.”
“Darcy simply could not risk such a grim and final destruction of his hopes. He was rather in his cups when he said it, however.”
Mrs. Gardiner shook her head in bemusement. “This is one case that makes me sorry arranged marriages have become so out of fashion. It appears our favourite niece and one of our closest friends desperately need someone to take charge of their lives and make such a decision for them!”
Her husband suddenly sat up straight in his chair as he tried to make sense of the convoluted idea that had just burst full blown in his consciousness. The solution to their problem was suddenly apparent to him, and he leapt to his feet with a cry of triumph.
“Whatever has come over you, Edward?” his wife asked anxiously.
Mr. Gardiner lost no time in informing her of his sudden revelation. She was doubtful at first, but as he continued with details of his plan, she began to nod soberly in agreement.
***
Saturday, October 5, 1816
Gardiner residence, London
When Darcy awoke, his head pounded and throbbed, and he did not recognise the room. Then he groaned as he remembered what he had told Mr. Gardiner the previous evening. All the time he had spent so carefully hiding his desire for Elizabeth was for naught.
He groaned again as he sat up, and he saw his clothing had been cleaned and laid out for him. Reluctantly, he heaved himself out of bed and slowly began to dress though he did not attempt to tie his cravat. A glass full of some kind of noxious-looking liquid was set behind a note on a table by the bed. Picking it up, he read:
Mr. Darcy,
My husband tells me you both imbibed considerable port last night. In the glass is my mother’s cure for an excess of spirits. It looks vile, but it should restore you in quick order. When you feel up to it, please join us for a late breakfast. We have a proposal for you that may solve several problems.
M. Gardiner
Darcy looked at the glass sceptically before picking it up and smelling it. It smelled worse than it looked, and one tentative taste confirmed his suspicion that it tasted worse than it smelled.
Holding his nose, he managed to gulp down the whole thing in one swallow. Immediately, his head reeled, and he had to sit down to avoid falling. He lay back on the
bed and closed his eyes.
If the world would just stop spinning, he thought, and then his consciousness faded.
When he awoke a half-hour later, he felt amazingly improved, and his confidence in Mrs. Gardiner’s medical knowledge reached new heights. When he arrived downstairs, he found both of the Gardiners waiting for him at the table.
“Ah, there you are,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “I was afraid we might have to send a tray to your room. How are you faring?”
“Surprisingly well.”
Mr. Gardiner laughed. “I also had one of those concoctions my wife’s mother invented. It worked for me as well.”
“Are you hungry?” Mrs. Gardiner asked.
“And, equally surprising, I am.” Darcy said, managing a smile.
“Excellent! We waited to break our fast with you.”
The meal was excellent, and Darcy was feeling passably human when he finally put down his fork and took a last sip of coffee.
“Now, perhaps we could talk about a possible solution to your dilemma with Elizabeth,” Mr. Gardiner said. Darcy immediately looked uncomfortable.
“Come now, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “You have kept your problems to yourself for far too long. We are friends. Let us help you.”
Darcy looked at her a moment, sighed, and leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps you are right. There is no way to make the situation any worse.”
“That is the spirit! Nothing ventured, nothing gained, eh?” Mr. Gardiner said. “My wife and I were talking last night. We were at first unable to think of anything that might help you. Then she brought up a solution from the past.”
Darcy looked at him rather blankly for a moment. “And that was…?”
“Very simply put, what you need is an arranged marriage.”
“You cannot be serious.”
“Never more so,” Mr. Gardiner said. “And, to be honest, one of our dearest nieces is in need of a similar solution, though for different reasons. Now, here is the crux of the problem. You are in love with Elizabeth, are you not?