A very serious Mr. Bennet replied, “It seems you have been granted great power, Elizabeth. Use it kindly and wisely.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you, Father.” And she was gone.
* * *
Bartholomew returned to the room and resumed packing, observing his employer as he did so. His master still sat quietly in the wheel-chair, but his demeanor had changed. When once he was angry and dejected, he was now calm, but it was obvious that he was waiting for something — something he was not sure was coming, but hopeful all the same. Bartholomew certainly did not expect Miss Elizabeth to knock on the door.
“Mr. Darcy,” said she as she entered, eyes downcast. “I must speak to you. I must apologize. Will you grant me an interview?”
Mr. Darcy looked at her, outwardly expressionless, but projecting a nervous energy. “I am at your disposal, Miss Elizabeth.”
Miss Elizabeth looked up, gratefulness apparent on her face. “I thank you, sir.” The girl had a blush to her cheek, Bartholomew saw. He was certain it was from her shame for her offenses against his master.
She glanced meaningfully in the valet’s direction, and Mr. Darcy noticed it. Bartholomew was certain he was about to be dismissed, and his sensibilities rebelled against it. He did not want Mr. Darcy alone with this harridan again no matter how pretty she was.
Instead, Mr. Darcy did something surprising. “The weather is sunny and calm, Miss Elizabeth. I own I would like to enjoy the fresh air of your mother’s garden while we have our conversation. Would that suit you, or do you think it too cool for your comfort?”
Miss Elizabeth blinked. “No, it was perfectly comfortable earlier, and I am sure it has warmed since then. I would be happy to accompany you outside.” She smiled a little. “You should know I seldom refuse an opportunity to ramble about the countryside, Mr. Darcy.”
His master’s look had warmed. “I have noted your preference very well, particularly as it coincides with mine.”
Miss Elizabeth blushed anew, and even Bartholomew knew that this time it was not from shame. How the valet kept from rolling his eyes he would never know.
“Give me a moment, sir, to fetch my coat.”
“I shall await you at the front door, madam.” Mr. Darcy returned Miss Elizabeth’s smile, and it remained as the young lady left.
Bartholomew groaned as he prepared Mr. Darcy for his interview. He was certain that his master had decided to forgive the young lady, and he was coming to the conclusion that he had other plans for Miss Elizabeth, as well — permanent plans.
Bartholomew always knew Mr. Darcy had to marry, and he supposed Miss Elizabeth would do, as long as she received more polish. He would not have the mistress of Pemberley be an uncultured country miss! As for the lady’s other charms, they were quite lost on the valet.
He had no intention of marrying — that was certain! It was too much trouble!
Chapter 19
ELIZABETH WAS SURPRISED WHEN Mr. Darcy requested their conversation be held outside. She was anxious to end their disagreement and prevent his removal from Longbourn, so she did as she was asked and met the gentleman in the front hall. He, too, was dressed for the cold weather, sitting in the wheel-chair, his valet Bartholomew standing beside him. Mr. Darcy explained that the garden might offer them some privacy without violating propriety, and he hoped she was of a mind to agree to his scheme. Elizabeth nodded in understanding, and the party was soon off, stopping only to transfer Mr. Darcy from the wheel-chair, which was quite useless for the rough ground of the garden, to the Bath chair.
The two were soon at the desired spot — a stone bench some small distance from the house but within clear sight of the west-facing windows. The air was cold, but sunny skies and the lack of wind assured comfortable conditions for the two, and once Mr. Darcy made sure that the blanket he insisted Bartholomew bring was offered and accepted by Elizabeth, he dismissed his servant and turned to Elizabeth. He said nothing, however; his countenance indicated that he expected Elizabeth to begin the conversation. Meanwhile, the valet returned to the house with reluctant steps.
This was a sad state of affairs, for Elizabeth had grown shy in the meantime. Her desire to explain herself, so imperative ten minutes earlier, was overthrown by his steady stare. Elizabeth could not look at him for all the world.
Finally Darcy’s rich, deep voice broke the silence. “Miss Elizabeth, I believe you wished to speak to me.”
Elizabeth took refuge in her wit. “I believe my tongue has caused you great trouble. I am astonished you wish to hear anything I might say.”
“I am always happy to hear your voice.”
“Even my unkind words of this morning?”
Darcy looked down. “Our conversation was painful, that is true. But even when you suffered from a misapprehension, you always spoke truth to me. That is a rare commodity, one I do not have the pleasure of enjoying as much as I might wish. It is refreshing.” He turned to her. “I would rather hear truth from you, madam, even if it pains me, than all the flattering nonsense I experience in London.”
Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. “This is too much.”
“Nay, not nearly enough.” Darcy seemed to catch himself, and his face lost some of the earnest expression he displayed. “Pray, tell me what you wished to speak of inside.”
“I have come to learn that there is more to this disagreement over Sally’s treatment than I originally considered. Will you answer some questions for me?”
“Of course.”
“Sally and her family have left Meryton. Do you know where they have gone?”
“Yes, they traveled to London, to the townhouse of the Fitzwilliams of Matlock.”
“And why did they go there?”
“My cousin, the viscount, has taken Sally and her family into his service.”
They were to work for Darcy’s family? Astonishing! “Why would your cousin take them all in? He does not know Sally.”
“My cousin’s reasons are known only to him. He is an honorable man, and they will be well-treated.”
Elizabeth could not yet voice the question she most wanted to ask, so she tried something else. “I saw men moving their belongings out of their house into a wagon. One of the men said they were working for a gentleman he would not name. Did you hire men to move her family’s things, as well?”
Darcy looked away. “If you are asking whether men in my service helped Sally’s family relocate, then yes, that is so.”
“Someone must have informed the viscount about Sally and her situation. You said this morning that positions had been secured for everyone in her family. It is reasonable to assume that you were the person who brought them to your cousin’s attention. Did you do that?”
Darcy did not immediately answer. “I made some small inquiries.”
Finally, Elizabeth could bear it no more. “Why? Why would you do that?”
He glanced at her. “It was not because she spilled wine on me.”
Elizabeth flushed in humiliation. “Oh! Please do not repeat what I said! I am so ashamed of myself!”
Darcy frowned. “You should not be. It was not an unreasonable conjecture.” He forestalled her startled objections. “Miss Elizabeth, I am a man of the world. I know gentlemen — more than I should — who would indeed demand the immediate dismissal of another man’s servant for doing far less. It is certainly not in my character to do such a thing, but you would have no cause to know that.”
“I should, I should!” Elizabeth returned with some heat. “You have treated the staff here at Longbourn with nothing but generosity and respect, in some cases, better than my family does. I had no reason to doubt you. And now it appears you are the saving of Sally’s family. But you have not answered my question. Why did you find a new position for Sally?”
Darcy seemed to struggle for an answer. Finally, he shrugged. “Because it was within my power to do so.”
Elizabeth took a moment to absorb the immensity of his short statement. “Then yo
u are a great man. You have my gratitude, and I pray you accept my deepest apology for my unjust accusations.”
To Elizabeth’s astonishment, pain flashed across Mr. Darcy’s face. “Pray, do not say such a thing. If I have been of service to Sally and her family, I was happy to do it. But do not thank me for it.”
“Why not? You deserve all the thanks in the world!”
“I did not do it to earn accolades. I do not want anyone’s gratitude.”
Elizabeth thought about that for a moment. “That is perhaps the silliest thing I have ever heard.”
“I — I beg your pardon?”
Elizabeth frowned. “No, I was wrong. That is the silliest thing I have ever heard! You do not want anyone’s gratitude? That is preposterous! Gratitude is given, not earned. You cannot say whether someone ought to feel thankful or not. It is not in your station or anyone else’s to determine what a person should feel. I shall be grateful as I choose, and if I think you the most wonderful man in the world, you can have nothing to say about it! You will just have to accept it!”
Elizabeth caught herself. Mortified, she turned to Mr. Darcy, eyes cast down. “Oh, I have done it again! I am ashamed of myself! Mr. Darcy, please excuse me. I should not have put it that way. It was ungracious of me.” She glanced at him and, instead of censure, saw what could only be a look of indulgence that sprang from the deepest love.
“That is quite all right, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy said with a smile.
His smile brought on hers. “But I must insist that you accept my thanks for everything you have done.”
“It seems I must accept your gratitude if I wish to keep your good opinion. Very well, I thank you.”
Elizabeth continued. “I also should not have spoken as I did to you this morning. Will you accept my apology?”
“If you will accept my apology for my words.”
“I was more in the wrong.”
Darcy shook his head. “I disagree. I coldly dismissed you when I should have shown more forbearance. As I said, your assumption, while wrong, was not unreasonable. I allowed my temper to get the better of me. I should have acted differently, and I will hold to that, Miss Elizabeth. I shall not be moved.”
Elizabeth frowned at his obstinacy. “How can that be? I made such terrible accusations!”
“What did you say I did not deserve? You called me selfish and unfeeling, and I cannot deny it. I have been a selfish being all my life — in practice though not in principle. As a child, I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately, I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves — my father particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable — allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world. Otherwise, I should have been open about my plans and dealings and not thought you were undeserving to know my mind.
“Your father and I spoke, and it was only then that I saw the justice of your words. You were a lady I hoped to please, and yet I would not be honest with you! How should you know me if I did not allow it? Foolish, foolish pride!”
Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide. A lady I hoped to please?
“But I will be forthright now. I must thank you for all you and your family have done for Georgiana. You have brought her back to the girl she once was.”
Elizabeth shook her head at the change of subject. “You . . . you thank me for Georgiana? Whatever for?”
Darcy colored. “I shall tell you, but I ask you keep this to yourself. I believe Colonel Fitzwilliam has told you something of my family’s misfortune at the hand of Mr. Wickham.” At Elizabeth’s nod, he continued. “Well, we have suffered more mistreatment than you know. Actually, Georgiana has.”
“Oh, my goodness! You do not mean — ”
“It is not the worst, Miss Elizabeth, but it was bad enough.” He quickly told her of a plot between Wickham and Georgiana’s former companion, a Mrs. Younge, to facilitate an elopement for Wickham and Georgiana and seize the girl’s dowry of thirty thousand pounds. Fortunately, Darcy learned of the scheme before his sister could be taken from her rented house in Ramsgate, and he was able to stop the two malefactors. Elizabeth was horrified.
“You say this happened earlier this year? But Georgiana is so young.”
“Her youth must be her excuse for believing herself in love and trusting her adult companion. But she has suffered greatly, mainly from guilt. Please know I blame her not — others were at fault — but my sister is of a sensitive and trusting nature. Her confidence and self-worth were deeply harmed. It is only by daily intercourse with your family that she has shown improvement. I have my dear Georgie back, and I owe it to the Bennets.”
“I will accept your thanks on behalf of my family, but in truth, who could do less for dear Georgiana? If we have been of any help at all, we are happy.” Elizabeth then frowned. “But that rogue! I admit when I heard that Mr. Wickham was to go to prison for debt, I felt pity for him. But now — gaol is too good for him! He must be severely punished!”
“He will be punished enough. It is exile and Canada for him.”
“It is better than he deserves! At this moment, I regret these times. Is there no chance of persuading the Regent to break out the rack in the Tower? At least Wickham will be far away from Georgiana. If we are fortunate, he may be eaten by a bear!”
Darcy laughed. “This is a new side to you, Miss Elizabeth — such a doom for George Wickham!”
Her chin jutted out. “I defend my friends, sir!”
The gentleman sobered. “You have been a better friend to me than I deserve, especially after insulting you so abominably at the assembly in September.”
“I admit that my pride was hurt at the — Wait! Your sister’s troubles, did they happen shortly before your journey here to Hertfordshire?”
“They occurred not three months before.”
“Oh! No wonder you were so reserved! You could not have wished to be in society so soon after that!”
Darcy allowed a small smile. “You know me well. I am never at my best in a ballroom in any case, but my mind was still full of Georgiana’s pain. Bingley was badgering me, and I wanted him to leave off. I should not have said such a wicked falsehood.”
“Falsehood?”
Darcy’s eyes grew dark. “Miss Elizabeth, surely you know that you are exceedingly handsome, and . . . remarkably tempting.”
Elizabeth flushed and modestly looked away. “You should not say such things.” Of course, she meant not a word of what she said. No captivated young lady would. And Elizabeth was truly and completely captivated by Mr. Darcy. She longed to hear more expressions of love from him.
However, Darcy drew back and looked towards the house. “Quite right. I apologize, Miss Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth was frustrated. First he hinted at admiring her, but when given the chance to expand upon that surprising and delightful condition, he withdrew. Teasing, teasing man! She changed the subject.
“You say that you are not at your best in a ballroom. How is that? Do you not like to dance?”
“Dancing is not a favorite occupation of mine, that is true, but the real reason is that I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers. I am very reserved and am only comfortable with those whom I know and know well.”
Elizabeth could hardly believe his explanation. “Sir, you are a man of sense and education who has lived in the world. Why do you feel ill at ease around new acquaintances?”
“I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy, “of conversing easily with those I have never met before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation or appear interested in their concerns as I often see done.”
“That, perhaps, is the case. If you say so, it must be true. However, you seem to be able to overcome this affliction. Look how you have charmed the entire Bennet family!”<
br />
Very earnest was his reply. “I did not do it a-purpose, save to — how shall I put it? Take the trouble of practicing. To show I have taken your rebuffs seriously and have tried to improve myself.”
“Rebuffs? What do you mean? Our argument was but an hour ago. Your kindness to my family began long before that.”
“Oh!” Darcy sighed. “You have found me out. I shall be honest, as I said. I am afraid I overhead you justly berating me several weeks ago.”
“When was that? I do not recall — ”
“It was in this very garden. You were with Miss Lucas.”
Elizabeth gasped. “I am mortified! I recall that unjust conversation.”
“You were right.”
“No, I was not!” Elizabeth insisted. “I was blind and spiteful! I foolishly held your comments at the assembly against you. I have lately come to understand your character, and I am heartily ashamed of myself. You are not the only one who had their shortcomings pointed out to them. My sisters defended you most strenuously. I know now I jumped to an unjust conclusion about Sally, and I am thankful my family has reproached me for it. Until then, I did not truly know myself.” Elizabeth smiled. “Mr. Darcy, when a young lady takes the trouble of apologizing, you should be a gentleman and permit it, if but for form’s sake.”
“I am a better man for your criticisms.”
His compliments were too much for her if he did not mean to act upon them. “Why do you say such things?”
“Were I not in this chair, I would say more.”
Elizabeth looked upon him. “I . . . I cannot understand what you mean.”
“Can you not?” he growled as he sat up in the Bath chair. “Elizabeth, I cannot court you from a wheel-chair! I said I would be plain, and plain I will be. I am an invalid, and I will not take advantage of your pity. But once I return, will you allow me a private interview?”
Her joy at his declaration was tempered by one word. “Return?”
“Yes. I am glad we have had this conversation. You cannot know of the depths of my appreciation. It allows me to leave Longbourn, not in the bitterness of spirits I owned this morning, but with a heart lightened by hope.” He reached over and took Elizabeth’s gloved hands. “Georgiana and I will return to London tomorrow. Too much has been done to alter our plans, but our reasons have changed. It is for the best, after all. In Town, I can be better cared for by Mr. Macmillan. I am determined to be on my own two feet in time for Bingley’s wedding.”
Mr. Darcy Came to Dinner Page 24