by Ola Wegner
"Yesterday," Fitzwilliam started hesitantly, wincing visibly, "I met her during her stroll around the grounds and walked a bit with her."
"And?" Darcy demanded.
"She started asking me about Bingley and his sisters. I did not think much about her enquiries, believing it innocent gossip, nothing more. I told her how you were such a good friend to Bingley because you had saved him from most unfortunate marriage. I had no suspicion that I was speaking about her own sister."
"Do you remember how she reacted?"
"Yes, she paled considerably and soon excused herself, saying she had a sudden headache. I am sorry, Darcy; it was not my intention to harm you. If I had known that it was her sister, I would have kept my mouth shut."
Darcy waved his hand with resignation. "It does not matter now. She must have had some suspicions before that, and you only unknowingly confirmed them."
Colonel Fitzwilliam gave his cousin a long, thoughtful look. "Darcy, what do you have against Miss Bennet? She is very beautiful, and seems terribly kind. I would say that she is too good for Bingley. Their family is not as bad as you claimed them to be. Those Gardiners give a very good impression, you must admit. True, they are in trade, but it is hardly a scandal nowadays. I would say that the future of this country belongs to people like them, the entrepreneurs, merchants—certainly not the landed gentry and aristocracy like us."
"I know, I know…" Darcy acknowledged reluctantly. "I dug a hole for myself, and now I have to find my way out of it. I only hope that Elizabeth will forgive me."
Colonel Fitzwilliam put his drink away and stood up, "I am certain that she will marry you. After all, her choices are limited after her father's death. She cares for her family deeply, that is obvious, and I am sure that she will marry you to help them. However, I do not envy you. She seems to hold a lot of resentment towards you."
Darcy shook his head, his heavy frown mirrored on his forehead, "It only a misunderstanding between us. We shall be fine," he insisted with determination, as if he wanted to convince himself to believe his own words.
"If you say so." Colonel Fitzwilliam put his hand on his cousin's arm. "I truly wish you every happiness with her."
***
Darcy awoke quite late the next day. He had a headache and was slightly hung over from his late evening and brandy with Colonel Fitzwilliam. On the other hand, the alcohol had helped him to fall asleep without trouble, and he truly needed his rest.
He took a bath and spent more time than any other day to dress himself and look presentable.
It was almost eleven when his carriage stopped in front of Gardiners'. He was more than uneasy about the visit, not being certain of Elizabeth's behaviour. The apprehension squeezed his throat, tightened his chest, and knotted his stomach. taking one deep, calming breath, he gingerly knocked on the door.
He was let in immediately and led into a drawing room he had seen yesterday. He did not wait long before Mrs. Gardiner appeared.
"Mr. Darcy, we were expecting you," the woman greeted him with pleasant expression.
Darcy allowed himself to relax at Mrs. Gardiner's warm smile. She seemed to favour him, and it was a good sign.
"Madam," he bowed, "I hope that you and your family are well today."
"As well as the sad circumstances can allow us to be, Mr. Darcy. We still find it hard to believe that Mr. Bennet is not among us anymore. He was such a prominent figure in our family."
"I regret that I did not know him better," he said, and he was truthful speaking the words. The few occasions he has been in a company of Mr. Bennet, he had never tried to engage the older man in conversation. Perhaps if he had done so, taken the effort, Elizabeth would have looked at his suit in a more favourable light.
"I believe that you would have grown to like him, Mr. Darcy. He had his own little habits and peculiarities, which greatly affected his wife's nerves, but he was an interesting man, very well read, having well defined opinions on many subjects. He loved his daughters very much, even though he seemed not to be able to show his affection for them in many situations."
"How is Elizabeth feeling today?" he asked cautiously.
"She managed to have a few hours of sleep, as her sister assured me. You must see how devastated she is, Mr. Darcy. Her father meant the world to her, even though they did not always agree on certain matters. She will not be herself for a long time, I am afraid."
"I would wish to… make her suffer less."
"I do not think that is possible, but I am sure that the awareness that her mother and sisters are well taken care of will ease this time of mourning for her," the woman assured him smoothly.
"May I see her?" he asked, his heart nearly jumping out of his chest at the fear that he would hear a negative answer.
Mrs. Gardiner nodded with a smile. "Of course. She is upstairs with Jane, awaiting your visit; however, my husband wanted to talk to you first. He had to go to his office, as he has to settle some matters before our trip to Longbourn tomorrow. Would you mind seeing him there? I shall send the servant to show you the way. It is just across the street."
Despite the nagging feeling that the reason for which Mr. Gardiner wanted to speak to him was not a pleasant one, Darcy agreed to meet him without hesitation. Mrs. Gardiner, on her part, assured him that Elizabeth would be waiting for him once he returned.
Darcy refused the company of a servant when crossing the street to enter Mr. Gardiner's warehouses. He was not a child, and he could find his way. He was rather impressed with the scale of the business. There were many workers employed, all of them looking very busy and preoccupied with their work. The place was loud and full of energy. He gave his name to an older man who looked to be a sort of foreman, asking that he be directed to the office of Mr. Gardiner.
"Come in, come in, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Gardiner invited him with wide gesture, standing from behind his desk strewn with thick account books and many opened letters. "Please take a seat. Forgive me for admitting you here, but there is so much to do before our trip to Hertfordshire."
"I understand, sir. No need to apologize. It is you who should forgive me for taking so much of your time away from your business," Darcy offered, politely taking his seat.
"I will speak briefly, Mr. Darcy, as I believe that you are rather eager to see my niece."
Darcy allowed himself a small smile. "Indeed I am, sir."
"Yes," Mr. Gardiner cleared his throat, leaning over his large desk, his hands folded in front of him. "My wife and I talked with Elizabeth after you left yesterday. She was very… emotional about your proposal, your behaviour, and some of your attitudes."
Darcy suddenly felt his blood run cold. "She was?" he whispered, his voice unusually high.
Mr. Gardiner looked straight into his eyes. "You failed to mention that she refused your offer."
"Sir, I…" Darcy started but was interrupted.
"Mr. Darcy, let us not go into too much detail. I am really not interested in your private conversations with Elizabeth. I want the best for my niece, and I think, my wife supporting me on this, that you are the best that could happen to her. You are not only wealthy, but you seem to like her. My wife thinks you love her, judging the way you look at her. I believe you wish to make her happy and take care of her, which is good enough for me. However, I know how stubborn Lizzy can be, and if she will insist on rejecting you, we will not force her to do otherwise."
"I see," Darcy murmured with heavy heart. It was not quite what he wanted to hear, but at least he knew where he stood. "Thank you for being sincere with me."
"For now, we have convinced her to talk to you. It was all we could do," Mr. Gardiner informed.
"Thank you."
"I am not certain whether you know that she holds certain matters against you. She mentioned some officer... Wickham… It is my understanding that he told her some disturbing story about how you hurt him in the past, refusing him the living left him by your late father, almost leaving him starving on the streets."
"That is absolutely not true," he spat, rising from his chair. "Wickham is a despicable liar… I swear I did nothing like that. He refused to take the living and was paid off. Two thousand pounds, which he spent as soon as he got it."
"Mr. Darcy, calm down, please. Sit down." Mr. Gardiner walked over his desk, gesturing him to take his seat. "We believe you," he spoke with force. "Madeline, my wife, told Elizabeth that she did not have faith in Mr. Wickham's history, knowing your outstanding parents and their reputation from the times of her childhood spent in Derbyshire. I think it gave Elizabeth something to think on, but still you have to explain this her."
"I will, sir, be certain of that," he grunted angrily.
Mr. Gardiner glanced at the clock on the wall, his expression apologetic. "Forgive me, Mr. Darcy, but I have a meeting in twenty minutes for which I need to do a bit of preparation."
"Of course," Darcy stood up, extending his hand in the direction of the older man. "Thank you, Mr. Gardiner," he said as they shook hands, "I am more than grateful for your support and for being honest with me."
As Mr. Gardiner walked the guest to the door, he spoke, "One more word of advice, if I may."
Staring into his face with a frown of concentration, Darcy gave the man his full attention.
"Elizabeth is very independent, and she does not appreciate when people tell her to do things in a certain way, or even worse, order her around. You can very well say that she was, to a certain degree, spoiled by her father's attention, and he always encouraged her free thinking. Try to listen to her more, and perhaps ask about her opinions on some matters. Even if you know that you are absolutely right, it is always good to say something in the lines of ‘What is your opinion, dear?’ or ‘Do you have another suggestion?’ Let her participate more, and avoid announcing your will to her. She does not react well to that."
Darcy sighed. "I have noticed."
"Good luck." Mr. Gardiner clapped his back lightly. "You will need it in order to convince her."
Chapter Six
As Darcy left Mr. Gardiner's office and was walking through the warehouse back to the Gardiners' house, his emotions were conflicting, but there was one very clear one; he hated Wickham. That bastard was always in his way, trying to destroy the little peace and happiness Darcy had. Deceiving his father and trying to seduce Georgiana was not enough; now he was trying to turn the only woman in whom he had ever taken a serious interest against him.
"I want him finished, no longer walking on the surface of the earth," he muttered fiercely as he passed through the busy street.
Before knocking at the door, he took a few deep, calming breaths. He had to keep his temper in check, and control himself in order to face Elizabeth and hopefully convince her. He must hold his anger in check. Elizabeth was an innocent here; he could not allow himself to take out his resentment on her, or he would further alienate her or worse—lose her completely.
He was let inside by the servant and allowed directly into the drawing room. The whole family sans Mr. Gardiner seemed to have gathered there, including the Bennet sisters.
His eyes swept over the women and children before stopping on Elizabeth. She was not looking at him, but she stood up the same as Jane to greet him.
When she kept avoiding his gaze, Darcy glanced with desperation at Mrs. Gardiner.
The woman seemed to understand his silent plea for help. "Lizzy, I believe that you and Mr. Darcy were supposed to discuss certain matters," she suggested, her tone gentle, but decided.
To his relief, Elizabeth agreed without hesitation, "Yes, Aunt," she spoke evenly. "Do you think that Uncle would mind if we go to his study?"
"No, of course not, dear." Mrs. Gardiner smiled reassuringly. "No one will disturb you there."
Elizabeth nodded. "Thank you, Aunt." She walked to the door, "Shall we go, sir?"
Her voice was neither angry, nor resentful. She seemed sad, but calm.
Elizabeth led them through the house to the same room where he had been the night before. As he closed the door behind them, she walked straight to the tall window, opening it wide. The study was situated at the back of the house, and the window looked into the small but intensely green garden.
He stepped closer, standing near her. Her eyes were closed as she inhaled deeply.
"It is the main disadvantage of London, I believe. The air smells much less appealing than in the country, and you cannot go for a truly long walk," she spoke wistfully. "Will you not agree, Mr. Darcy?" she asked, looking up at him.
He did not answer, but merely drank in her sight, wanting to make sure that she was well. She was paler than usual, without that healthy glow to her skin he liked so much. Her eyes were puffy with dark circles underneath. Her hair was pulled back smoothly, without the usual, curls framing her small face. She looked much younger like that, and so very innocent.
"Mr. Darcy," she said quietly, regarding him carefully.
"Forgive me, Miss Bennet." He came out of his musings. "I only wondered how you are feeling today."
Her eyes met his, and pain shot through him as he saw the heartbreaking sadness in her face.
She shuddered, and he reached to close the window, thinking her to be cold. She was wearing a gown he did not remember ever seeing her wear. It was pale pink, and it was the first time he had seen her in that colour. She usually wore white, yellow, cream, mint green, and she had one deep red dress which he remembered fondly. She had worn it often while nursing Jane at Netherfield. He guessed that the pink dress did not belong to her, as it hung shapelessly from her delicate shoulders.
"I owe you an apology, Mr. Darcy, for my behaviour yesterday. I was rude to you. I understand that you wanted to help me."
"No, no," he assured quickly, surprised with her words as he had expected her to call him on his actions yesterday rather than apologize for her own. He wondered briefly whether he owed this to the Gardiners and their influence on Elizabeth. "That is perfectly understandable. You had every reason to be upset," he continued, wanting to show her that he, too, could be remorseful. "Perhaps I should not have… I might have been too forceful when planning our journey. You are right though, I only wished to help you."
Her eyes searched his face, but she said nothing.
She was looking out the window again, and he was at a loss to what she was thinking.
He gathered his courage and reached for her hand. She allowed him the touch, which he thought to be a good sign.
"Elizabeth, please," he beckoned her closer, pulling her slowly to him. He waited till their eyes met before continuing. "I am aware that matters between us are not as they should be, but I am certain that we should be one, that we do belong together, that…" his voice cracked, "we will be right together."
She stared straight into his face for what felt like an endless moment. He had to fight the urge to avert his eyes, and retreat into the safety of his usual haughtiness.
She lowered her head, and he could see the indecision painted on her face. He cupped her cheek, making her look at him again.
"Trust me," he whispered, his voice low, deep and soothing. "I swear that I will take care of your mother and sisters. I will adore you, worship you. Trust me."
"I would wish to," she responded with sincerity, and even, he hoped, longing, "but I hardly know you. Once married to you, I will have no possibility of going back. I know so little about you, and what I know cannot convince me to trust you."
His hand dropped from her cheek. "You are referring to the matter of Bingley and your sister," he said knowingly. "I admit that I was mistaken in separating them; however you have to believe me that at that time, I was convinced that I was acting in my friend's best interest."
Her eyes narrowed. "His or your best interest?" she demanded harshly.
&nbs
p; He froze, feeling as if she had slapped him. "Yes, that is correct, I wanted to remove myself and all the people close to me from you and your family's company. I was confused and terrified with my rapidly developing feelings for you," he admitted.
"You sound as if liking me was a punishment for you, a great misfortune, something which may bring you down, ruin you," she uttered with resentment.
"No, Elizabeth, no." He closed the space between them, putting his hands on her thin shoulders, feeling her delicate, smooth skin against his thumbs. "I want you; I cannot imagine my life without you. You are my happiness, everything I need to be whole, perhaps for the first time since my mother's death. I was not prepared for all those emotions you evoked in me, and it terrified me. I was not certain how to deal with them. I am still not. However, I cannot walk away from you."
She stomped away from him, freeing herself from his touch, frowning. "I do not know what to think about you. My aunt and uncle seem to like you… and I trust their judgment, but…" She put her hand to her mouth, and started to chew on her fingernails. When she realized what she was doing, she removed her hand from her face quickly, embarrassed.
"I know what you are thinking about," he said, not being able to remove the coldness from his voice. "Wickham." He hated to mention his name in her presence, even worse was the necessity of discussing this sad affair with her, but there was no other way. He only hoped that he would say what he needed to say now, and then they would never again return to this subject.
"Uncle mentioned him to you?" she guessed.
"Yes, and I am furious at the lies he told you," Darcy said in a harsh, authoritative voice, that he was not in habit of using when speaking to her. He noticed that he had caught her attention immediately, her eyes widening slightly at his tone.
"Will you allow me to explain this from my standing?" he asked formally.
She nodded, and he began speaking without delay. He was precise, and spoke to the point. He poured out all the resentment he felt for the son of his father's steward. He told her how Wickham had been cruel, even as a little boy when they had been growing up together, how he had wasted his opportunities in the university, how he had refused taking over the parish and had been paid off. The hardest part was telling her about the last summer when Wickham had tried to seduce his sister, who had been only fifteen at the time.