A Certain Something

by Cassandra B Leigh

  “Who is there?” Drawing the bed drape aside, she spied her little cousins, Amanda and Martha, dressed in their nightgowns and grinning sheepishly.

  “We drew a picture for you, Lizzy.” The girls held out a slate with a chalk drawing of a woman surrounded by flowers.

  Elizabeth marvelled at their innocence and joy. “You must have studied with the masters,” she said, prompting the girls to snicker behind their hands. She drew back the bedcovers, and the girls climbed into the bed with her. “What shall we do today?”

  “A picnic in the park,” said Amanda.

  Martha agreed, then added: “Ices at Gunter’s.”

  “Ah yes, both fine suggestions. What care we for frigid temperatures out of doors? We shall don our brightest summer gowns and venture out in search of refreshment as though wilting from the scorching sun.”

  The girls giggled merrily at her suggestion. Perhaps Aunt Gardiner was right; a short stay with her fanciful cousins, away from her interfering mother, was just what she needed to lift her spirits.

  Chapter 21

  Under the pretence of attending to business matters Thursday morning, Darcy removed to his study after breaking his fast with Georgiana. Since he had botched his proposal three weeks ago, the mood in the house had been far too dismal—his own and Georgiana’s. Bingley had returned to Grosvenor for the holidays, leaving Darcy House without the benefit of his resilient enthusiasm. Even though the New Year had begun, no promise of renewed hope released Darcy and his sister from gloom; neither would be content until he had secured Elizabeth’s hand. His confidence waning, he sank into the chair and rested his head in his hands. How could he concentrate on business matters with this distraction clouding his judgement?

  Bingley had invited him to return to Netherfield next week, but Darcy wondered if he would even be welcome at Longbourn. Perhaps he ought to wait for Bingley’s report to determine if he should make the attempt. After his insults, he would not blame the Bennets if they preferred to cut the connection. Even so, Bingley would not be returning to Longbourn until Monday. How would he endure another five days without knowing if he still had a chance with Elizabeth? Perhaps he ought to ride out to Hertfordshire today. It was only twenty-four miles away, easily traversed in two hours, with only one change of horses. Richard had coached him well; he felt confident in his ability to improve his address. How would he go on if he did not at least make the attempt?

  Recalling Richard’s advice, he closed his eyes and envisioned an image of Elizabeth. Richard had impressed upon him to put aside any thoughts of the mother and focus only on Elizabeth: her beauty, her smile, her eyes. If he could convince her to accept him, he would spend the rest of his life making sure she knew how much he loved her, cherished her, wanted nothing more than to be with her. How foolish he had been to allow her to think otherwise.

  A footman knocked twice and entered, as was his usual custom when the post arrived. Resolving to show no sign of his disordered thoughts, Darcy assumed his master-of-the-house façade. “An express from Hertfordshire, sir, delivered by messenger.”

  Recognizing the return address, Darcy immediately ripped open the seal and read the message.

  2 January 1812

  Dear Mr Darcy,

  I hope the New Year finds you well and brings you every happiness.

  I would be remiss if I did not inform you that Miss Eliza Bennet has left her home to visit her uncle, Mr Edward Gardiner on Gracechurch Street.

  I trust you welcome this news and will use it to your best advantage.

  Lady Lucas and Charlotte send their regards.

  Yours respectfully,

  Sir William Lucas

  Stunned, Darcy read the sentence about Elizabeth again. She is now in London? On Gracechurch Street?

  He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. Sir William’s letter could not have come at a more advantageous time. In another hour, he might have already been on the road to Hertfordshire and would have missed the express. He must find a fitting way of thanking the kind gentleman for his good offices. He had gone to the trouble and expense of sending an express to someone who was no relation, to inform him of Elizabeth’s whereabouts. Certainly, their brief acquaintance warranted no such favour. Perhaps Darcy should take inspiration from that unassuming man, then realised that he must have done it for Elizabeth’s benefit—a woman who inspired generosity in everyone she met. Indeed, if not for her, Darcy might not have taken steps to remove Wickham from the country.

  He rose to pace the room and determine how best to proceed. He recalled a conversation with Caroline and Louisa about the Bennets’ relations near Cheapside. Mr Gardiner must be the uncle they referred to, but where on Gracechurch Street? Sir William did not specify; it could be any one of fifty houses. He could not knock on every door until he found the Gardiner residence.

  He rang for his secretary, Mr Grant, and instructed him to discover the direction of Mr Edward Gardiner of Gracechurch Street near Cheapside. In the meantime, he returned to his chamber and called for his valet. If he was to make the best impression on Elizabeth, he would need to change his coat and cravat.

  Once suitably attired, he found his sister in the music room. “Why have you changed into your blue coat, Fitzwilliam?” Georgiana asked. Upon hearing that Elizabeth was in town, she gasped.

  “I hope to see her and convince her to change her mind.”

  “You must apologise for insulting her.”

  He promised to do so. “If she refuses me again, I shall throw myself at her feet.”

  “Tell her how much she means to you,” Georgiana said, tears misting her eyes.

  Darcy embraced his dear sister. “I adore you, Georgiana.”

  “I have every confidence in you, Fitzwilliam.”

  Mr Grant returned with the information he requested. Mr Gardiner, a successful, reputable tradesman, owned the house on 134 Gracechurch Street. Thirty minutes later, clutching a posy of red carnations, Darcy knocked on Mr Gardiner’s door and presented his calling card to the answering footman.

  “Mr Gardiner is not at home, sir. If you leave your card with me, I shall see that he receives it.”

  Undeterred by this disappointment, he suggested that perhaps Mrs Gardiner or Miss Bennet would receive him. The servant advised him to wait one moment and disappeared, followed a minute later by a modestly attired woman. “Mr Darcy, I am Mrs Gardiner. Have you come to see my niece?” she asked with cold civility.

  He bowed in deference to her. “Mrs Gardiner, I beg your indulgence for intruding on you in this way, but I am a desperate man. I doubt you are ignorant of my connection to Miss Elizabeth.”

  Her expression remained grave. “I know of it, and I need not tell you that you performed badly.”

  “Yes, I am acutely aware of my errors and have come to make amends,” he said, showing her the posy. “If you will allow me a few moments with Miss Elizabeth, I shall be forever in your debt.”

  “A wise choice, Mr Darcy. Lizzy will like your flowers. What she will not like, and what I shall not allow, is a repeat of your prior address. If you are any wiser now, which I suspect you are, you will beg her forgiveness.” Her voice, while not unkind, sounded annoyed, as though she were scolding a small child.

  “Believe me, madam, I intend to do so,” he said, hoping to persuade her, then softened his tone. “With your permission, of course.” He could have no hope of seeing Elizabeth if he offended her aunt.

  Although unaccustomed to being appraised by a merchant’s wife, he waited in silence as the woman studied him with a steely glare and pursed lips, then nodded her head decisively. “You may wait in the library. I will take your posy to her. If she wishes to see you, she will come to you. If not, I will escort you out myself.” She directed him to a room off the foyer and accepted the posy.

  The door closed behind him, and Darcy paced the floor, attempting to recall everything he intended to say to Elizabeth.

  Remain humble.

  Apologise for ever
y offence I have committed.

  Declare my enduring affections.

  Richard’s voice resounded in his ear: For God’s sake, say nothing to insult her.

  The door opened, and Elizabeth entered carrying his posy, which he interpreted as a favourable sign. If she had no desire to see him, her aunt would have come in her stead. However, when the door closed behind her, she stared at the floor, making no attempt to look at him.

  “Miss Elizabeth, thank you for allowing me a few moments of your time.” When she kept her head down, his confidence waned. How could he address her if she refused to look at him? “You must allow me to apologise for my conduct when last we met.” Still, she remained motionless, which confounded him. He had never known her to display the slightest hesitancy to speak her mind, nor had he expected such cautious reserve. Having no other choice, he knelt before her and gazed up into her eyes, which burned with fire.

  Renewed hope surged through him. He would much rather deal with a furious Elizabeth. A heartbroken Elizabeth would have been far too daunting.

  ***

  Although Elizabeth still fumed over Darcy’s poor choices when he last addressed her, she could not help feeling sorry for him. The sound of his strained voice led her to believe that he had suffered as much as she. Rightfully so, he deserved to suffer for his offences. She stood before him with her head down, unwilling to meet his eyes; she did not want to know whether or not he had a glow about him. If he did, her heart would melt and influence her decision; even worse, if he had no glow, her heart would surely shatter to pieces. She wanted to hear his address and decide her next course without the benefit of her gift. If he spoke truthfully from his heart, her own heart would know.

  However, when he bent to one knee, she could not avoid his repentant gaze, nor that wretched glow. How she wished she had no gift, allowing her to see the true meaning of his words. Also, decidedly unhelpful were his red carnations, which represented heartache. Considering the pain he had caused her, his despair seemed only fitting.

  “You have every right to be cross with me, Miss Elizabeth. Even my sister is disappointed in me for offending you and your family. I am a fool—a callous simpleton, unworthy of your notice, but I beg you to forgive me. Instead of speaking of the forces that might dare to conspire against us, I should have told you how much I missed you and longed to be near you, how constantly you appeared in my thoughts and dreams, and how wretched I am without you.”

  Elizabeth could not help thinking that she would have gladly accepted him last month if he had offered that proposal. Today, however, his blatant arrogance was replaced by sombre sincerity.

  “I cannot bear to be separated from you again. If you accept me, I vow to put your concerns above my own and cherish every moment with you.”

  Three weeks had passed since his last address. How different her life would have been if he had spoken with such fervour then. “That is a pretty speech, Mr Darcy,” she said, wondering if his holidays had been as miserable as her own.

  Still on one knee, he placed his hand over his heart. “I swear to you, I meant every word. I will never hurt you again. I will accept your family as my own, and they will visit us as often as you choose.”

  Despite her relief that he had returned, she still required his assurances. “You must never leave me again.”

  His gaze remained steady, as did his shimmering glow. “On my honour, I never shall.”

  She inhaled deeply, relieved that he had said everything she had hoped to hear. “I appreciate your sincerity, Mr Darcy. You are forgiven.” However, his steadfast honesty gave her pause. For the entire duration of their acquaintance, with one exception at the assembly, he had been truthful. Did she not owe him the same? “I have something to tell you which may affect your decision. When you hear it, you may decide you do not want to marry me, after all.”

  “Nothing shall alter my love for you.”

  He gazed up at her with such earnest anticipation, she could no longer bear to keep him on his knees. “Let us sit, if you please.” He guided her to a chair and pulled another to face her. Once they were both settled, she inhaled the sweet fragrance of the carnations and released a sigh.

  “I trust you will not repeat what I am about to tell you,” she said, to which he vowed his silence. “I have an ability no one else has—a gift, as some call it. I can detect falsehoods.” She paused for a moment to gauge his reaction, but he kept his gaze fixed on her, encouraging her to continue. “When Mr Wickham told me the story of your involvement with his inheritance, he became enshrouded in an ominous grey cloud. I knew instantly that he was lying.”

  “That is remarkable.”

  “Before I met him, I had only witnessed grey mists around my family and neighbours to indicate falsehoods. However, the murky air encircling Wickham turned into a black shadow when he spoke of Miss Darcy.” She trembled at the memory of that disturbing encounter. “Honestly, it was the first time I had ever witnessed anything so dreadful.”

  He reached out to hold her hand. “I am sorry you were forced to endure his treachery.” She clung to him, comforted by his strong but gentle grasp. “Wickham was the man who attempted to lure Georgiana to the border,” he said with a pained expression. While not surprised to hear this detail, as she had suspected as much, she expressed her regret that Miss Darcy had been deceived. “Have I ever been untruthful with you?” he inquired.

  She averted her eyes, not wishing to appear vain. “Not exactly with me, but you made a remark within my hearing at the assembly. I suspect you did not intend for me to overhear your conversation with Mr Bingley when he chided you for being fastidious.”

  “I humbly beg your pardon. I did not mean…” He shook his head and pursed his lips. “I should not have said anything so insulting.”

  She took his other hand and held fast. “I have already forgiven you for that remark, and you need not apologise again. However, when you spoke to Mr Bingley, I observed a grey mist around you. Other than that, I have never seen any untruthfulness in you.”

  His eyes brightened, and he nodded, as though in sudden understanding. “That is what your mother meant when she said you were gifted at the ball and that no one told a falsehood within your hearing.”

  She felt the heat rush to her face at the memory of that humiliating supper hour. “Yes, but I wish she had not. I have no desire to be perceived as peculiar or deranged.”

  He squeezed her hands. “You are beautiful, Elizabeth, and I am being honest when I tell you that I love you and wish to be with you always. I want to be the man worthy of you.”

  Her heart leapt at his tender declaration, but she had not yet disclosed her entire truth. “There is another aspect of my gift which I have not mentioned. I can see a glowing light around people who are in love.” His puzzled expression prompted her to elaborate. “Lights shimmer around people in love.”

  “If you see it around me, then you must know my love is true.”

  Despite his earnest appeal, she recalled her recent pain. “Yes, but I also saw it at home before you went away.”

  His smile vanished and his shoulders dropped. “I should not have denied my affections. I have never been in love before.”

  She hung her head, recalling that miserable time when she thought she had lost him. “Neither have I; nor have I had my heart broken.”

  He nodded sadly. “I vow to never do so again.”

  Despite his contrite appearance, the light around him continued to sparkle. “Do you mind that I have a gift?”

  He broke into a sheepish smile. “My only gift is saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

  “Tell me what is in your heart.”

  “I love you, my fair Elizabeth. I love your liveliness, your impertinence, your kindness, and your teasing smile. I see it every night in my dreams.” His thumbs drew lazy circles on the back of her hands.

  How fortunate for her that he admired her virtues and accepted her imperfections. Tilting her head, she gave him a smir
k. “I am sorry to have haunted your dreams, Mr Darcy.”

  “Oh no, my dear girl,” he said with a chuckle. “If dreaming is the only way to see you, I would much rather be asleep.”

  “I prefer you awake.”

  At this impertinence, his eyes darkened. “Do you have any other gifts?” he said, pulling his chair closer and pressing his knees to hers. “Because if you are clairvoyant, I must apologise for any ungentlemanly thoughts that may have crossed my mind.”

  The glow around him remained constant, but his eyes held a mischievous glint. “You are teasing me now.”

  He held both her hands between his. “Will you marry me?” he asked.

  She did not need to see the glimmering light around him to know that he loved her. The adoration in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. “I will.”

  He released a long breath. “Do you by any chance return my affections?”

  “I love you, Mr Darcy, with all my heart. I love your sincerity, your loyalty, your determination, and even your cautious reserve.”

  Delight radiated from his face as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “I love you, my dearest Elizabeth. I shall remind you every day.” He reached into his pocket and removed a velvet pouch. “Will you accept this token of my affection?”

  He opened the pouch and pulled out a gold posy ring embossed with a floral design. “I hope you will like the inscription,” he said, showing her the engraving inside: My heart is true.

  “Yes, Mr Darcy, I will accept your ring,” she said, and he slipped it on her finger.

  He pushed his chair away and slid to his knees. “Fitzwilliam, if you please.” He pulled her closer and softly kissed her lips. “To seal our betrothal. I shall never give you cause to doubt me again.”

  A knock at the door interrupted them, and Aunt Gardiner entered the library. Darcy rose to his feet and stood next to Elizabeth. “Have you resolved your differences?” Although her aunt attempted to appear stern with a foreboding scowl, her gentle voice proved that she had already surmised the answer.