Guilt shot through him. It was his fault that she was lying upstairs in pain. The apothecary believed it was nothing more than bruising, but he wouldn’t know for sure until he had spoken to Elizabeth. Darcy could not bear it if he was the cause of permanent injury to such a lovely young woman.
“No, sir. She was quite clear on that. She told me to alert her immediately once her aunt was fit to walk. I believe her exact words were that she felt she had imposed on your hospitality quite enough already.”
“That is ludicrous,” Darcy said. “It is no imposition. How can she think anything of the kind? She is…” he stopped, frowning. What had he been about to say? Whatever it was, he did not want to utter such words in front of Mrs. Hudson, no matter how much he trusted her. He shifted in his seat. “Will you send her in here when she feels well enough to come downstairs? Please let her know I wish her to stay as long as it takes for her to fully recover. I don’t believe she is in a fit state to leave this house, much less travel across the city.”
He shook his head. What had she been doing in that hellhole in the first place? He had an inkling and the more he reflected on it, the more he believed it. It would have been just like her to insist on helping. Waiting at home for news of her sister must have frustrated her to no end. She was too impatient and stubborn to sit back and allow others to act.
The whole family must be frantic with worry, he thought.
He knew the feeling well—he had felt something similar when Georgiana confessed her plan to elope. Even then, he had not experienced what the Bennets had. After all, Georgiana had confided her intentions to him, which had allowed him to act before their scandalous plans had been carried out. He shuddered to imagine how difficult it would have been to resolve if his sister had not confessed.
“I shall tell her at once,” Mrs. Hudson said.
Not long afterwards, Mrs. Hudson entered the room with Miss Bennet at her heels. Darcy was relieved to see she had regained her colour and looked infinitely better than she had when she first arrived at his townhouse.
“Miss Bennet.” He gestured to the chair front of his desk.
Mrs. Hudson helped her to the chair and then turned to leave. Darcy was gripped by a strange sense of protectiveness. Miss Elizabeth could not afford to have her name tarnished any further, and yet what had he just done? Miss Bingley was still a guest in his home and she could return at any moment. What if she learnt that he was alone in his study with Miss Bennet?
No, he thought, well aware of what that other young lady was capable of. I shall not give her an opportunity. Miss Bennet is vulnerable enough now without being further scorned.
“Mrs. Hudson,” he said sharply. He caught her eye and jerked his head subtly towards the fireplace.
He relaxed a little once it was clear that Mrs. Hudson had understood his meaning and remained in the room. Miss Bennet gave no indication of having noticed his alarm—he was glad. She was too stubborn to appreciate it and would probably have been scornful if she had known.
“Are you feeling better?”
She nodded, amusement flashing through her lively eyes. Darcy found himself captivated by her all over again. She had such life to her; such vivacity. “Much better. My shoulders are a little stiff, but I expect that will pass in time. We shall leave as soon as my aunt is feeling well enough. I must thank you again for your hospitality.”
A raft of conflicting emotions shot through him, chief among them an irrational irritation that she was eager to leave. There had been so many women who had sought to depend on him. Why was it that the only woman he admired would go to any lengths to prove how little she needed him?
“You have no need to thank me. It was my fault you were injured.”
She smiled. “In any case, you have been most kind to both of us. It must have been quite an effort to get us across the city.”
He waved his hand. It had been difficult, what with his carriage being back at the townhouse, but he had no wish to dwell on it for he would gladly do the same again. “That is exactly why I must implore you to stay. You had quite a fall. I cannot allow you to venture back out onto the streets.”
“Allow me?” she repeated, eyebrows raised. “You have no say in the matter, Mr. Darcy.”
He shook his head. She was even more spirited than he remembered. He knew there was no sense in drawing her on the matter, for he suspected he might not win in an argument with her. “Perhaps that was a poor choice of words. I would like you to stay. You were injured and the apothecary, though confident you have not been seriously injured, said he should to examine you again to be sure of it. Please. Do not feel you are imposing.”
She shook her head. “How can I feel otherwise? Like I said, it is kind of you to ask me to stay, but I do not feel right about it. We shall leave as soon as my aunt is well enough.”
It was all Darcy could do not to groan in frustration. “Miss Elizabeth, it is really no trouble. I have plenty of rooms here. I have been detained in London for longer than I had planned and if I may say so, it would be a pleasure to have your company while I remain here. It is not for that selfish reason that I wish you to stay, more than I am gravely concerned as to whether you are well enough to travel.”
She smiled, though there was something sad in the expression. At that moment, he saw the weight of her sister’s folly weighing heavily on her shoulders. The only consolation for him was the knowledge that if anyone could rectify such a terrible situation, it was Elizabeth Bennet.
“It is very kind of you, Mr. Darcy. But I confess I have matters I must attend to.”
“What matters?” he asked, immediately regretting it. Was it not enough that she had suffered this humiliation? Why should he exacerbate her pain by attempting to draw her on the subject? He continued quickly, “if there is anything I can assist with, then I should be happy to do so. Please, Miss Bennet. It was my fault entirely that you fell. And that was the cause of your aunt’s fainting spell. I could not bear the guilt if you left and your condition worsened on the journey back.”
“I am staying at my uncle’s. It is not so far.”
He shook his head. “It is in Cheapside, is it not? It is not far, that is true, but it is still a considerable journey for someone with a potentially serious injury. Promise me you will remain here until you have been seen by the apothecary? Then I shall send you wherever you wish to go.”
She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again. A faint smile traced across her face and lit up her lovely features. “Very well, Mr. Darcy. I must say, you are the most stubborn man I have ever encountered.”
He smiled, unable to keep from mirroring her expression. “That is quite a statement, Miss Elizabeth, coming from a woman with the strongest will I have ever seen in anyone.”
Chapter 10
Elizabeth took her leave of Darcy and retired upstairs to her room. Her aunt still hadn’t stirred and now she had given into Darcy’s demand that she remain his guest for a little while longer. All she had been able to think about up to that point had been Lydia, but now Darcy infiltrated her every thought.
Far from filling her with joy, though, she felt such hopelessness that it was a struggle to hold back her tears until she got to her room.
She had made a terrible error in judgement. Darcy was not the stern, cruel man Wickham had painted for her. Nor was he as prejudiced as she had first thought from that fleeting meeting at the Meryton assembly. Why hadn’t she put more weight in her opinion of him from those days spent at Netherfield when Jane was ill? They had been perfectly at ease with each other, chatting and laughing like old friends. If only her opinion had not been skewed by her prejudice towards him!
Elizabeth shook her head at her own folly. As if any of that mattered now! Why, it was plain to see that he was a very proper gentleman. She understood what he was doing when he kept his housekeeper in the room. He had not wanted to be alone with her. Propriety was clearly important to him, as well it might be.
So
why do I daydream about what it might be like to…?
Elizabeth groaned. He had never been hers, but he was truly lost to her now. After all, what would he think of her when he learnt of Lydia’s actions? He had shown himself to be a proper gentleman. She imagined he would not even wish to converse with her if he knew what her younger sister had done. Once word spread around town—and she knew that would happen soon enough—Fitzwilliam Darcy would rue the day he ever brought her into his home.
She pursed her lips. She ought to go downstairs right then, she knew, and confess; allow him to know all of the facts of her situation before generously offering to shelter her. It was only right! Yet she could not bring herself to do that. How could she admit such things to a gentleman?
“Ah, Miss Elizabeth. You look much recovered. You too, Mrs. Gardiner.”
Elizabeth smiled. It was just the three of them for dinner. She had not thought to ask if Mr. Darcy’s sister was in attendance. On any other occasion, she might have been thrilled to meet that young lady, but things were different now.
It was all arranged. The apothecary would call in the morning. Lizzy suspected that Darcy had not been as expedient as he might have been in arranging for the apothecary’s visit. Thought this was both flattering and surprising to her, she tried not to dwell on it. Because any affection Darcy felt for her would surely disappear the moment he learnt the true reason for her visit to London.
It was curious, she reflected, that he had made no remark about her presence in town. She owned that it was probably because she could have only limited reasons for being there: he must have assumed she was there to see her aunt and uncle. She was glad he had not questioned her—it was bad enough keeping the truth from him without lying outright.
“This is wonderful, Mr. Darcy,” she said truthfully. It was a bone broth, thick and rich.
“Yes,” he agreed. “It is. I believe my cook tries hard when I’m in town because the poor woman is driven wild with boredom otherwise. She’s an artistic type. Sees food as her canvas. You ought to see some of her creations.”
Lizzy smiled in surprise. “My goodness, Mr. Darcy. We could use someone like that at Longbourn. Our cook seems only interested in a handful of dishes at most.” She might have added that Longbourn’s cuisine would become increasingly important in the months and years ahead: if they could not find Lydia, no family in the area would be interested in dining with them once her actions were widely known. Lizzy could look forward to eating the same three meals for the rest of her life.
“I do not know about that, Miss Bennet,” Darcy said, smiling across the table. “I often think I would prefer simple food myself when I am presented with elaborate creations.”
“It sounds very adventurous, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Gardiner remarked.
He nodded and they segued into a discussion of the Gardiners and Mr. Gardiner’s business in town. It struck Elizabeth again how openly and freely Darcy conversed and she felt another stab of regret at having written the man off as an incorrigible snob. He now seemed genuinely interested in hearing about her uncle’s business.
“And you, Mr. Darcy? How long more do you expect to spend in town this time? It must be dull being here on your own.”
He shook his head and pushed his dish aside. “I had hoped to return to my sister before now. But it is not lonely as you say. I have been joined here on this occasion by my good friend Charles Bingley and one of his sisters.”
Lizzy’s spoon clattered into her almost empty bowl. From the gasp beside her, she could tell Mrs. Gardiner had experienced a similar reaction. Lizzy winced.
“Perhaps it is a delayed reaction from my accident,” she muttered. For if there had ever been an occasion to conceal her true feelings, now was the time.
She was filled with panic. Darcy had not asked her what she was doing in London, but surely Miss Bingley would make a point of doing so. That woman had an almost insatiable appetite for gossip and tittle-tattle, as Lizzy had discovered to her distaste when they spent time together at Netherfield. She felt confident that Miss Bingley would probe and discover the truth. Lizzy wasn’t afraid of slipping up and revealing the truth, but she was aware that Caroline Bingley had a particular skill for twisting one’s words so that the entirely innocent became something sensationalised beyond recognition. Anyone would do well to be wary of Miss Bingley even if they didn’t have something to hide, as Lizzy certainly did.
Lizzy’s good mood slipped away; she could not enjoy the good company with the spectre of disgrace hanging over her like it was. Thankfully, her spirits were renewed somewhat by the quail. She just hoped Darcy hadn’t noticed the change in her mood. She doubted he had: he gave no indication of having done so.
Chapter 11
“Excuse me a moment,” Darcy muttered, standing and nodding apologetically at his dinner guests. “I must attend to an urgent matter about which I had completely forgotten.”
Once he had closed the double doors to the dining room, he sought out his valet.
“Send a messenger to Mr. Somerset’s residence. I believe Bingley was visiting there. Please inform Mr. Bingley that there has been an emergency. A young friend of mine is staying and the apothecary has instructed us to keep the house as silent as possible. Give him my apologies and suggest he call on my friend Reed.”
Jones looked at him quizzically but did not question his instruction. “Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.” Darcy nodded curtly. “And please do not mention a word of this to anyone.”
“Of course not, sir.”
The valet departed at a rapid pace and Darcy made his way back to the dining room. He felt somewhat guilty for lying to Bingley and inconveniencing him. Not that a night or two at Reed’s would be an inconvenience. If anything, Reed’s home was far more luxurious, seeing as that gentleman spent most of his time in town. There was also the advantage of Reed’s older brother, Lord Jameson. With any luck, Miss Bingley would be captivated by the young heir and set about directing her affections towards him rather than towards Darcy.
For a moment he felt rather uncharitable for thinking in such a way, but he consoled himself by reasoning that he had done the right thing. Miss Elizabeth’s reaction on learning of the Bingley’s presence had shocked him. She had done a good job of hiding her emotions, but her clear distress had told him much. Most worrying of all, it had confirmed to him that Miss Bingley’s scurrilous gossip had actually been the truth.
He cursed himself for not sending word to Bingley sooner: what if Miss Bingley had returned earlier? He could only imagine Miss Elizabeth’s distress.
“Ah, there you are Mr. Darcy. I hope your matter was resolved satisfactorily. This tart is marvellous.”
He nodded at Mrs. Gardiner, whom he found very pleasant. “Indeed. Apologies again for my absence.”
Miss Bennet, he noticed, had regained her spirits somewhat but was still rather subdued. He remained silent for a long while, acting as if he were entirely focussed on the plate in front of him.
Darcy glanced up from his book. It was remarkable how at ease he felt in the company of Miss Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner. They had all retired to the drawing-room and set themselves on the sofas. It was as if he had known both women for decades; there was such a sense of comfort and ease between them. That was in stark contrast to the sense of irritation he felt when he retired with the Bingleys. He had taken to lingering in the dining room with Charles after dinner, leaving Miss Bingley to find her own amusements. It was terrible behaviour for a host, but he found he could no longer listen to her for any length of time—he preferred silence to endless chatter.
Not that it was absolutely silent at present. The most enjoyable aspect of Miss Bennet and Mrs. Gardiner’s company was that conversation flowed freely on occasion, but there was no sense that it was in any way a necessity. The two women appeared to put an equally high value on silence as he did and seemed to subscribe to the theory that if it wasn’t remarkable, then there was no need to remark on it.
/> Miss Elizabeth had regained enough of the spirit that was so familiar to him that she took to gently teasing him whenever the opportunity presented itself. He found himself unusually open to her mockery; even welcoming it. He did not know what had gotten into him, but he knew one thing almost as a certainty: his campaign to clear his mind of Elizabeth Bennet had been singularly unsuccessful.
Given this state of comfort, Darcy was momentarily annoyed when his valet called him out of the room.
“What is it?”
Jones bowed. “Your message has been delivered. Mr. Bingley sent word back that he would be happy to stay with Reed, whom he had intended to call on soon in any case. A servant has been dispatched with his possessions.”
Darcy nodded approvingly. “Very good.”
He returned to the drawing-room with a light heart.
“There must be no end to the draws on your time, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Elizabeth remarked. It was endearing how she made such amusing remarks without even looking up from her volume. She had a habit of quirking the right side of her mouth whenever she said something in jest.
“Yes,” he said, sounding regretful. “I am a most unfortunate creature indeed.”
Elizabeth laughed, jerking her head up and looking at him with delight. All he could do was admire the way her eyes flashed. “Yes. Only the regent himself could be claimed to have a life of such privations and misfortune.”
He laughed, shaking his head and forcing himself to be serious. It was never difficult except when he was around her.
“I received some news,” he said.
“Oh?”
The hunted look returned to her eyes: it was unmistakable. He wanted to protect her from all of this, not that she would ever allow him to do so.
“Yes,” he said quickly, wanting to spare her even another moment of discomfort. “It seems Bingley has met an old friend. He has just sent word that he shall stay at that gentleman’s house for the time being.”
Mr Darcy to the Rescue: A Pride and Prejudice Regency Variation Page 4