Darcy’s laughed and extended his hand to Georgiana. “Dear sister. You must show your friends what Father and I taught you to do in the snow which some might deem unladylike, but is perfectly acceptable for a country girl from Derbyshire.”
Her eyes lit up. She dropped the girls’ hands, removed her gloves, scooped up some snow, packed it into a ball, and threw it at a cluster of mistletoe hanging from a tree.
“Well done, Georgie!”
Darcy laughed at Victoria’s shock and Emily’s smile as the youngest Gardiner daughter scooped up her own snowball. “Oh, Miss Darcy. What a lovely idea!” Soon snowballs were flying.
The sound of laughter and squeals greeted Elizabeth and Jane as they exited the carriage. “Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, welcome to Netherfield,” Mr. Bingley said as he handed the ladies down.
“Thank you, Mr. Bingley,” Jane said through lowered lashes.
“It was very considerate of you to allow us to stay and be of assistance to our aunt,” Elizabeth said, turning back to the direction from where the sounds came.
“Of course, my aunt is sitting with her now.” Mr. Bingley said, extending his arm to Jane. “Would you like to come inside and take refreshment?”
Jane nodded as Elizabeth turned back to the sound of more squeals. “Are our cousins out with their nanny? I believed she was ill.”
“She is,” Mr. Bingley said. “Your cousins are with Mr. and Miss Darcy on a walk.” Elizabeth did not miss the twinkle in his eyes.
She looked over her shoulder again and then asked, “Have they been out long?”
“No. No more than a quarter of an hour. Would you care to join them?”
“I think I shall. I wish to make sure the girls’ exuberance remains in check.”
She thanked her host and turned to meander down the path toward the laughter until she saw them. Both her cousins were laying on the ground making snow angels with Miss Darcy, and Mr. Darcy was meticulously shaping a snowman. The squeals almost drowned out her approach, but Mr. Darcy looked up and saw her. His jolly countenance was nothing she expected.
“Miss Elizabeth. You have caught me fulfilling a promise.”
“A promise, sir?” She ignored the strange flutter spreading throughout her chest at the dimples peeking from his cheeks.
He laughed. “Yes. Miss Emily has professed her love of snowmen, but her hands get too cold to shape them properly. However,” he said, “she was certain I would be able to complete the task to her liking.” He grinned. “As you see, I told her I would do my best.”
“And this is your best?” she asked with a hint of humor while looking at the perfectly symmetrical orbs stacked atop one another.
“Not quite. It is missing arms, a nose, and a hat—that of which I can easily improve.” He took off his own and placed it on the snowman’s head. “There now. What do you think?”
She swallowed a laugh and said, “I have never seen such a likeness. I believe even the masters would be astonished at the similarities. I can barely tell you apart, sir.” He chuckled. “I am impressed with your snowman building prowess. I would have wagered an important gentleman such as yourself would not have the capability needed to craft such a fine example.”
“You doubt my abilities to make a snowman? You wound me, madam.” His eyes were bright from the exercise and his cheeks glowed from the chill. “I will have you know when we cousins were together during the holidays, my talents were heralded above all others. Why even when I studied at Eaton—”
“At Eaton? This is what boys study at school? Snowmen? Now I am truly all astonishment.” Her eyes danced with merriment as he accepted her provocation.
“At times, I wish that was my only concern in life. Building snowmen.” He paused at the sound of Miss Darcy and the young girls giggling in the snow. “In that I am certain of my skills.”
Words failed her at his confession. He added another pebble to its face, stood, and rubbed the snow from his gloves. “There you have it, Miss Elizabeth. One more stone and the season can commence.”
A mischievous grin played on her lips as she looked at his handiwork. “If I may?” Reaching for his hand, she took the final stone and completed the snowman’s features. “And there it is, Mr. Darcy. Your masterpiece is completed.”
They stepped back to look at their creation. “I must say, madam, your contribution added to the already exceptional work.”
They both laughed at the tease before she grew quiet. “Might you care to walk, sir? I am certain my young cousins would love to see the puppies.”
“I would enjoy nothing more.” He immediately straightened his great coat and extended his arm before calling to the girls. “Georgie, Miss Gardiner, Miss Emily, shall we go to the stables and visit Pepper?”
“Oh, yes. I have missed him so,” Emily cried, jumping up from the snow and brushing off her coat. “Lizzy, do you know Mr. Darcy built a fortress in the trees when he was young? I am certain if we were to travel to Pemberley he would build one for us. Would you not, sir?”
“I would, Miss Emily.”
“Oh, how delightful to be a boy! Come, let’s go to the stables. Last one there must hop on one foot and sing a song.” And in less than a hair’s breadth, she was off, with the other girls scampering behind her.
Darcy snickered, and Elizabeth spied him from the corner of her eye as she rested her mittened hand on his arm. “And what is so amusing, sir?”
He cocked his head to gaze at her and said, “Since the Gardiners arrival at Netherfield, I have felt transported to the Longbourn of years ago and witness to the antics of the aforementioned ‘little Lizzy Bennet.’”
A hearty laugh escaped her lips. “I assure you, sir, what you suspect would be correct. She was quite a sight to behold with her muddy petticoats and skinned elbows.”
“I am certain she was charming.” He squeezed her hand as she turned her face to hide the sudden color rising to her cheeks.
“I have something I must confess to you, Mr. Darcy, and it pains me to admit it.”
“Then please do not. I would never wish to be the instrument which causes you discomfort.” His earnest expression warmed her.
First traitorous mind, now traitorous heart? She tempered the emotions swirling within.
“I assure you, Mr. Darcy. It is only my own actions and words which have brought about my discomfort.” She slowly released a breath before continuing. “From a young age, my father has encouraged my independence, my sense of infallibility at reasoning through educated reading and discourse. I have learned at his knee how to discern many things and have believed in my flawless judgment.” She glanced up at him through thick lashes. “Throughout the week, but most recently this morning, I learned with surety I was most grievously misguided.”
He cocked his head. “How do you mean?”
“A letter arrived with our manservant from my aunt Phillips filled with the tales of”—she choked on the words—“Mr. Wickham’s absconding in the night with a mule cart belonging to the baker and…Miss Mary King.”
He stopped in place and turned to her. “He has left Meryton with a young woman?”
“Yes. With Mary King. A young girl who just recently—”
“Inherited a substantial amount of wealth,” he said, finishing her sentence for her. He paused in quiet reflection, before replying, “Miss Elizabeth, there is nothing you could have thought about me which I did not deserve.”
She was taken aback by his statement. “I assure you, Mr. Darcy, you are incorrect. I was uncharitable in my estimation of you and gave credence to claims of a most undeserving man. It would seem if I had inherited ten-thousand pounds, I too could have been a victim of a nefarious plan as Miss King obviously has been.”
“And others before her,” he said, quietly glancing at his sister.
As she looked from him to Miss Darcy, Elizabeth stifled a gasp. The possibility of what he implied caught in her throat, halting her speech. It cannot be. She began to tremble at the comp
rehension of Miss Darcy’s vehement dislike for Mr. Wickham, and she released Mr. Darcy’s arm. “I am certain, sir, you wish to be out of my company. If you will excuse—”
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, reaching for her. “I assure you, your company is all I ever want….”
She blinked back unshed tears as her heart glowed at his words. “You are too generous. I do not deserve your kindness.”
“But you do. And you shall always have it,” he whispered again, placing her hand in the crook of his arm and resting his own atop it. “Now, let us continue toward the stables before the Miss Gardiners discover a way to hide Pepper and spirit him off to the nursery.”
She attempted a smile. “That sounds like something ‘little Lizzy Bennet’ would do.”
“I would be disappointed if it was not.”
Chapter 7
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
(That Night)
The day had passed in a whirlwind of emotions for the Miss Bennets with both Mr. Darcy’s charming behavior and Mr. Bingley’s rapt attention toward Jane. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had withdrawn earlier in the day, feeling heightened symptoms of the illness which had claimed Nanny; the Miss Gardiners had gone to bed without any contention, likely from an exhausting day of fresh air, puppies, and snow; and Miss Darcy had retired shortly after dinner, claiming fatigue as well.
Elizabeth could not shake the shame which had overcome her during her earlier conversation with Mr. Darcy. “Jane, I am thoroughly humbled. To imagine I celebrated one man and derided another solely because of my own vanity!”
“Lizzy, you are taking too much upon yourself. Your beliefs are unsupported and may hold no merit. We know of no real connection between Miss Darcy and Mr. Wickham.”
“But, if my suppositions are correct, what a wretched being I am. I cannot imagine how any man, let alone Mr. Darcy, would still wish to be in my presence.”
There was a soft knock at the door. “Come,” Jane said.
It slowly opened to reveal a timid Georgiana Darcy. “Pray forgive me, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth. Might I have a word?”
“Of course,” Elizabeth said, standing and motioning for the girl to come in. “Is everyone well?”
“Yes, quite well. It is just that I spoke with my brother, and there is something I would like to share with you.”
Elizabeth looked at Jane before replying. “Of course.”
The girl sat in the chair next to Elizabeth, leaned forward and laced her fingers together before a mirthless sound came from her lips. “Please know, I have divulged this story to no one else.”
“Miss Darcy, it is not necessary—”
“But it is, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth. I have faith in your confidences. You must know the true character of my brother and his dealings with…my father’s godson.” She exhaled and began. “This past summer, I had the…occasion to go to Ramsgate with my…former companion, Mrs. Young.”
How Elizabeth managed the next ten minutes, she knew not, but she owed it to the young woman before her to remain calm as the true character of Mr. Wickham was fully revealed.
“And so, you see,” Miss Darcy concluded after relating her painful history, “Mr. Wickham did not love me after all. His only love was for my dowry of thirty-thousand pounds. Had my brother not arrived when he did…I would be, as William has said… ‘Forever shackled to a most undeserving man.’ I will be eternally grateful to my brother.”
Both the Bennet sisters remained quiet, absorbing the tale of a young man they had once believed to be an honorable friend.
“Miss Darcy,” Jane said, “be assured what you have spoken will remain in the strictest of confidence.”
“Of that I am certain,” came her reply. “I told William that I had never met more genuine friends than you, Miss Bennet, and you, Miss Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth reached for the girl’s hand. “Promise me you carry no guilt for what transpired—know you were not to blame for that man’s behavior.”
“That is what my brother repeats. But you see,” she said, her eyes looking up, “it was my vanity which he fed. Had he not flattered and charmed me, I would have kept my wits about me. But I craved his words, compliments which I believed were meant for only me. I am to blame.”
“No,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head, while tears trailed down her cheek, “you are not to blame. He preyed upon your youth, your isolation, and your trust.” She turned her head away from Miss Darcy. “Seemingly wiser women have fallen under his spell.” She turned back as she felt Georgiana’s hand squeeze her own.
“But…we both survived his machinations, did we not? William has said it shows great strength of character when the enemy is at your door, and you hold your ground instead of running in fear. I will not run, Miss Elizabeth, and I know neither will you.”
“We have both learned a lesson from this,” Elizabeth agreed. “And now we are only to lament the future of Miss King.”
“No, Miss King is safe,” Georgiana said quickly, shaking her head.
“What?” Elizabeth and Jane asked at once.
“Yes. My maid said the talk in the servants’ quarters was her uncle discovered them not five miles from here and had whisked her to Liverpool after the colonel of the regiment was called for and had arrested Mr. Wickham. He is no longer free to sully my brother’s name nor that of my family.”
“Nor the reputations of respectable young women,” Jane said.
“Yes,” Georgiana said. “At last, the world is finally free from the shadow of George Wickham.”
The fire crackling in the hearth did nothing to calm Elizabeth’s thoughts. She had been wrong. Most wretchedly wrong. She had accused a good man of numerous offenses and had bandied the lies of another around as fact. She threw the counterpane off and stood, slowly walking to the window and looking out at the night. The clouds had cleared, and there was a star-filled black sky with a large moon casting a glow across the snow and woods.
How am I to look at him? To ask his forgiveness? After my behavior, how could I expect him to bestow it upon me? She shook her head, the sorrow of being misguided weighing heavily upon her. It is not only that I erred, but in my arrogance, I disparaged a worthy man. She rested her hand on the window, her warmth causing an impression on the cold glass.
“It is all for naught. His opinion once lost is lost forever.” And now, it appears his is the only deference I seek.
She began to pace, her feet keeping step with both her heartbeat and agitation. This will not do. She grabbed her robe from the armoire, wrapped it around her, and headed to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, hoping that would soothe her and allow her to sleep.
Darcy could not sleep. The bravery of his sister’s decision to share her experience of Wickham, made his pride soar. If she wished to tell any other woman, I would fear for her reputation, but not Elizabeth. No, not Elizabeth.
He stood and stretched from the chair in the library, setting his book on the table next to him and walked to the window. I know Elizabeth’s pride. It must have been difficult to hear she was…misguided by his lies. But, she is not alone in that. Wise men—my father, our professors, numerous others—have been deceived by him.
He turned at the sound in the hallway. When no one entered, he returned to his thoughts, again looking out the window at the moon. “Now. To bed.” The morning will come early, and Miss Emily has quite the extensive list of duties for Bingley and me to undertake. He took one last drink from his glass before thinking he might like a lemon biscuit from the kitchen.
There were lemon biscuits—lemon biscuits and scones to be exact—perfect for her lavender tea. Elizabeth pulled out a kettle and sat back at the table, waiting for the water to boil. I do hope my nerves will settle and sleep will come. I fear turning into my mother. She tried to make light of her predicament, but the anguish had not abated, and her distress of meeting with Mr. Darcy on the morrow continued. He is the best of men, as Georgiana says. Why has it taken me so long to realize?
She shook her head and stirred the sugar in her cup. “He has been so engaging and solicitous. Is it only my imagination,” she asked the empty room “or are his affections as engaged as my own?”
“I assure you, Elizabeth. It is not your imagination.”
She jumped when she saw the man himself in the doorway and pulled her robe closer together. She swallowed her embarrassment as heat rose to her cheeks.
“It is…not?” Her heart raced at hearing her name on his lips.
He took a seat across from her. Seeking permission with his eyes, and finding it, he reached for her hands, enveloping them in his own. Slowly he brought one, then the other to his lips. “Might I suggest we begin anew?” His look was hopeful and sent gooseflesh up her arms.
“I believe…I believe I would like that very much,” she answered breathlessly.
He threaded his fingers through hers. “Then I believe, my dear Elizabeth, we must retire, before someone discovers us in a most compromising position and forces us to marry before you have been properly wooed.”
She said in an almost whisper, “I do not believe that to be such an impediment as I once did.”
She saw him start, and his eyes turned to black pools. Her stomach fluttered as his hand cupped her chin. “Elizabeth,” he whispered, tracing her jaw with his thumb. She closed her eyes and felt his breath on her lips when the door behind her opened, sending a gale of cold wind into the kitchen.
Both she and Mr. Darcy startled at the noise and turned to find a small bundle with brown curls clutching a puppy in the doorway.
An Unexpected Merry Gentleman Page 7