by Leenie Brown
“She is.”
“Then I do not see why you cannot speak with Mr. Darcy in the drawing room, and when you are through, there might still be a cup of tea for you in my study.” She winked and patted Elizabeth’s arm.
Chapter 9
Darcy held the door to the drawing room open while Elizabeth entered. “I did not realize that your aunt and uncle were the Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner who help Mrs. Verity with finding positions for some of her charges.”
“I did not know it either until yesterday when my aunt proposed my coming with her on her errands today.” She took a seat in one of the two chairs tucked into the corner of the room nearest the door and furthest from where Nellie sat playing with her son. “I was intrigued by her description of this establishment and readily accepted.”
“Your sister did not join you?” Darcy asked as he made himself comfortable next to her.
“No, Jane had promised the Gardiner children that she would play with them today, and breaking a promise is not something one should do, especially where children are concerned.”
“I could not agree more.”
Elizabeth drew a breath and expelled it slowly in an attempt to quell the flutters in her stomach. “I wish to apologize,” she began. There seemed no better way to get the ordeal over with than to simply begin without a long prelude or drawn out exchange of pleasantries.
Darcy’s brows drew together. “For what?”
“I have thought and spoken very poorly of you. I judged your character incorrectly.” She dropped her gaze to her hands. It was so difficult to look at the startled and slightly sad look on his face. She would be hurt if she had been abused as she had abused him. “I truly hope that you will not hate me,” she murmured.
“I do not see how I could,” he replied.
She lifted her eyes and gave him a sad smile. “I believed what Mr. Wickham told me about you. I thought you were arrogant and rude and deserved to be spurned, and so I spoke harshly about you to my friends and relations.” Her gaze dropped once more to her hands. “It was wrong, but that is not the worst.”
“It is not?”
She shook her head and searched for her handkerchief in her pocket. She was quite certain that she would not complete this part of her confession without needing it. “Your sister made it clear to me that I had been deceived in my opinion of you, and I have seen by your behaviour in the times when we have met here in town that you are not arrogant and rude. You are reserved and perhaps a bit aloof at times, but not improperly proud as I had accused you of being.”
She shook her head. Oh, what would he think of her when she told him what she had believed about the child who was squealing in delight over something his mother had said.
“When Mrs. Verity was giving us a tour today, I was surprised to see your maid in this room. Mrs. Verity explained that Robert was one of the children in her care and the result of a gentleman at Nellie’s place of employment using her badly. I knew she worked for you.” Elizabeth’s voice faded as her heart pinched and threatened to break at what she must confess.
“You thought I was Robert’s father?”
Elizabeth nodded and then covered her face with her hands.
“You think so little of me?”
Elizabeth could hear the pain in his voice, and the tears that threatened began to fall. She had no voice or words, so she simply shrugged and shook her head. She did not think of him poorly, not now. His good opinion, for which she had longed since their first meeting, was something she knew she had lost forever. How could it not be lost after thinking something so dreadful?
“I see,” he said as he rose from his chair. “Thank you for informing me before I made a complete fool of myself.”
“Please,” Elizabeth choked out. “Please, forgive me. I was so wrong, so very wrong.”
“I shall consider it,” he replied softly. “Nellie, Harris will see that you are returned to Darcy House.”
“Please,” Elizabeth begged.
“I will consider it,” he replied again. “I need to think,” he added and then quit the room, leaving behind a softly sobbing Elizabeth.
She had thought he was Robert’s father? She had considered him the sort of man who would use a maid employed in his own service in such a fashion? Did she know nothing about him? Had his insult and the tales of that blasted scoundrel blinded her to seeing anything of value in him?
He took his hat and gloves from the table near the door and, placing his hat on his head, stepped out onto the front step. He looked up the street and then down. Deciding that going up the street was perhaps the best place to find a hackney to drive him to who knows where — anywhere that she wasn’t — he descended the steps and after a quick word with his driver, turned right and began walking.
He had not gotten very far before…
“Mr. Darcy! Mr. Darcy!”
He turned to find Riley running after him with a walking stick in his hand.
“You forgot this, Mr. Darcy,” Riley said as he finally reached where Darcy was.
“Thank you, Master Riley,” Darcy said, taking his walking stick from the lad.
“Mr. Darcy?” The boy called as Darcy turned to continue walking.
“Yes.”
“A good man forgives, does he not?”
Darcy’s brows furrowed. “Of course.”
Riley nodded as a sad look crept across his face. “That is what I thought.”
Darcy watched the boy walk back toward Mrs. Verity’s. His shoulders were slumped, his hands were stuffed in his pockets, and he kicked at nearly every pebble which lay on the walkway. That was not how Riley normally carried himself. “Master Riley,” Darcy called.
The boy stopped and turned toward him. “Yes, sir.”
Sir? Darcy blinked. Riley used his name, not sir, whenever they spoke. “Are you well?”
The boy’s chin lifted. “I am.”
Darcy shook his head. “No, I do not believe you are.” He took the few steps necessary to reach where the lad stood. “I have offended you in some way. I can see it on your face and hear it in your words. What is it?”
Riley lifted his chin once again and gave Darcy a very imperious look for one so young. “A good man forgives, sir.” He gave a sharp nod of his head. “If you will excuse me, I have duties which need my attention.”
Darcy stood staring after the child. Being scolded by a younger sister was nothing compared to being called to correct behaviour by an orphan who at one time worshipped the ground on which you walked but now hung his head in disappointment at your actions or lack thereof.
He trotted up next to Riley. “I just needed time to think,” he explained to the child, “to sort through the thoughts in my mind.”
“She was scared,” Riley blinked back tears. “I told her good men forgive.”
“Miss Elizabeth was scared?” Darcy asked. Now that he thought about it, she had seemed rather nervous when she had greeted him. Her eyes had not met his nearly as much as they normally did.
“Yes.”
“Of what?”
“She was afraid that you would not forgive her,” Riley replied. “Oh, she did not say it was you, but I could tell.”
Darcy felt as if Riley had hit him in the gut.
“She thinks you are a good man,” the boy said, adding a second blow.
“She thought I was Robert’s father.” Darcy was unsure why he felt a need to explain this to a child.
“But you are not, and she knows that now.”
When stated like that by a lad of eleven, it sounded rather obvious.
“You did not know she had thunk any of those things.”
“Thought,” Darcy corrected. “I did not know she had thought any of those things.” He shook his head and slowly expelled a breath as he looked over Riley’s head to Mrs. Verity’s. “She did not have to tell me, did she?”
“No, but, when she asked what she should do, I told her what Mrs. Verity always says when we do something that is n
ot right.”
Darcy’s lips curled into a rye half smile. “Apologize?”
Riley nodded.
“It was good advice, and it is advice I should follow.” He blew out a great breath. “You are a good lad, Master Riley.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” The boy ducked his head, and his ears turned red. “I want to be good like my papa and like you.”
Ouch. If Riley’s words before had felt like a punch, this new revelation was more like a piercing of a sword directly to Darcy’s heart.
“Master Riley, I have no doubt that you shall be among the best of men.” He placed an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Is she still in the drawing room?”
Riley nodded. “She was when I left. Nellie was caring for her.”
“Then she is in good hands, is she not?” Darcy asked.
“She is,” Riley agreed.
“I’m going to tell you a secret, that my father told me,” Darcy began as they approached the front of the house. “Good men make mistakes, and when they do, they make amends as best they can.” He smiled down at the boy’s upturned intent expression. “And making amends becomes even more important if the person you harmed is very dear to you.”
A smile split Riley’s face. “You love Miss Elizabeth?”
Darcy nodded. “But, that is also a secret. I have not told her, and I do not know that my affections will be returned, especially now.” He looked toward the window of the drawing room. “When I first met her, I said something that was not nice, Master Riley. I was in a foul mood, and I allowed it to get the better of my tongue. I have not yet properly apologized for that either. I know,” he said in response to Riley’s horrified look, “I have been remiss. My sister has already reminded me to apologize, and yet, I have not.” He removed his arm from around the boy’s shoulders. “Wish me well.”
“Mr. Darcy,” Riley called to him. “She is a good lady,” he said when Darcy turned back to him.
“She is,” Darcy agreed.
“Good ladies will forgive, but,” the boy’s brows furrowed, “not always right away.”
Darcy chuckled. “You are far wiser than you know.” He gave the boy a small bow and continued on his way up the steps and into the house to offer both his forgiveness and his own apology.
Darcy placed his hat and gloves back on the table just inside the front door and leaned his walking stick in the corner. Then, after straightening the sleeves of his jacket and aligning the buttons on his waistcoat, he sucked in a deep breath, expelled it, and with a slightly trembling hand, opened the door to the drawing room.
Elizabeth still sat where he had left her, but Nellie knelt beside her, rubbing her arm from elbow to shoulder and back as she whispered to her. Robert had climbed up onto the arm of the chair and was patting Elizabeth’s back. Darcy closed the door quietly, dug his handkerchief out of his pocket, and approached her.
Nellie looked up at him, displeasure clearly written on her face.
“I have considered it,” Darcy began. “I would be a fool to not forgive you.” He knelt before Elizabeth. “I only hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” He placed his handkerchief on her lap as she raised her tear stained face to look at him. How he wanted to gather her into his arms and attempt to erase the pain he had caused! But instead of acting on his desires, he turned to Nellie.
“Thank you,” he said.
His maid looked at him warily.
“I promise I will not leave this room until all is resolved,” he told her.
Nellie nodded and rose from her position. Then, gathering her son, she retreated to the other side of the room, and Darcy returned his attention to the weeping lady before him.
“I am rarely rational where Wickham is concerned,” he began. “However, that does not excuse my reaction. I was startled.”
“And hurt,” Elizabeth whispered.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I would never use anyone as Wickham does.”
Elizabeth nodded as she dried tears from her cheeks. “I know.”
Her voice was still soft as if she feared that raising it would open a new wound or bring on more tears. The thought tore at Darcy’s heart. “What can I say to make amends? I fear I have erred far more gravely than you. I insulted you at the assembly — a patent lie.” He shrugged and smiled softly when her eyes grew wide. “You are beautiful,” he whispered before continuing.
“I was disagreeable and standoffish while in Hertfordshire instead of friendly and welcoming as I should have been. My behaviour has been deplorable. I would not think highly of me either. Added to that, is the fact that I returned to town, intending to dissuade Bingley from returning to Netherfield. I judged your sister’s attachment to my friend to not be as great as his to her.” He shook his head. “Who am I to decide such things? Can you ever forgive me for such arrogance and rudeness? Can we, at least, be friends?” He held his breath as he waited for her to respond.
“You thought Jane indifferent?”
He nodded.
“You would have separated them?” Her tone held a hint of anger.
He expelled the breath he had been holding. It was perhaps too much to expect a ready forgiveness after the sins he had committed. “Yes. I told myself it was so my friend would not be injured.”
“It is not because you despised my family?”
He grimaced. “I will admit that I find it difficult to abide some of your family, but that was not the reason.”
Her lips twitched for a brief moment. “I find some of them difficult to abide as well,” she admitted before her brows drew together in question. “You said you told yourself it was to protect a friend, but that does not mean that Mr. Bingley’s welfare was your true reason for separating him from Jane, does it?”
Darcy sat back on his heels. “It was not my sole reason.” He swallowed and allowed his eyes to lower from looking at her face to watching her twist his handkerchief in her hands. “You had stolen my heart, but you were not what I thought I should consider for a wife.” He heard her soft gasp and lifted his eyes once again to her face. “I was wrong about that as well. I do not believe I have erred as much in the entirety of my life as I have in the past nine months. First, I nearly lose Georgiana, and then, because of my abominable pride and my foul temper, I have likely lost my chance at ever winning your good opinion, let alone your heart.”
“You wish for my good opinion?” There was no small amount of incredulity in her voice.
“I do. More than I can ever describe.”
Her lips curved into the most beautiful smile of delight he had ever seen.
“I have wished for yours since the assembly,” she confessed, ducking her head.
“You have?” It was his turned to be startled.
“I have,” she said, meeting his eyes.
“Then, might we begin again?”
She nodded.
“I am forgiven?”
Her lips twitched, and that teasing left eyebrow arched as her lips parted to speak.
“Riley assures me that good ladies forgive,” Darcy said quickly before she could say anything.
Elizabeth laughed, the sound filling Darcy’s heart with hope that he might one day be able to claim her as his.
“Then, Mr. Darcy, I have no choice but to forgive you.”
He grasped her hands. “If you had a choice and did not feel forced, would you forgive me?”
She nodded.
He expelled a satisfied sigh.
“Do you wish to have tea with Mrs. Verity?” he asked as he rose from the floor and extended his hand to assist her from her chair.
Instead of taking his hand as he expected, her hand flew to her face. “I must look a fright,” she cried.
“Not to me,” he replied. “Never to me.”
She pursed her lips and cocked a brow.
“Very well, your eyes and nose are rather red, and your complexion is somewhat wan. However, I assure you that while my eyes might see those temporary imperfections, m
y heart sees nothing but beauty.” He smiled at the way her face reddened at his words. “Be that as it may, I will see if I can persuade Mrs. Verity to allow me to bring you a cup in here.”
Chapter 10
Elizabeth peered through the front window of her aunt’s sitting room. It had been a week since she and Mr. Darcy had come to an understanding of sorts in the drawing room of the orphan house. Mr. Darcy, with Mr. Bingley at his side, had called at the Gardiners each day, and she had welcomed him most happily. Today was no different. Her heart skipped, and a smile spread across her face of its own accord as she recognized the carriage which was driving up the street. He was nearly here. She tucked her work basket under her chair, making sure the square of cloth she was embroidering with leaves and scrolls was well-hidden before returning to watch out the window for Mr. Darcy.
“I take it our callers are nearly here,” Aunt Gardiner commented with a laugh. “To think that the man you criticized so thoroughly in your letters could make you flit about as you are!”
“I am not flitting,” Elizabeth retorted. “I am merely hiding a gift.”
“You are flitting,” Jane assured her sister as she crossed the room to join her. “And I am certain there is nothing wrong with it.”
“Oh, there is nothing wrong with it at all,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “In fact, I am quite pleased to have you both flitting about my house in anticipation of your gentlemen’s arrival.” She also joined them at the window. “I am delighted that you have both found such wonderful young men to love and who love you in return. It will not be long until we hear the banns being read for you both. Of that, I am certain.” She placed an arm around each girl’s shoulders.
Love. The word had been playing in Elizabeth’s mind for two days now — ever since Mr. Darcy had declared his love for her in that drawing room while she used his handkerchief to dry her red eyes and nose. Her aunt had hinted even before that that Elizabeth might be in love with Mr. Darcy, and Elizabeth who could not accept that fact then was equally incapable of denying it now. She woke each morning with anticipation of seeing him in her heart and closed her eyes each night imagining his smile, and the hour or so he spent with her each day was the best part of her day.