Darcy had never seen Bingley so fiercely angry.
“While you are in your chambers, I will tell Louisa what you have done, that you are the entire instigator of this nasty allegation and that if she repeats it, you will both suffer the consequences. She and Hurst can return to London. Darcy and I will also leave here. You can stay and do as you please.”
Bingley stared at her. “Go now.”
She looked at him and then at Darcy. He felt faintly sick.
“Mr. Darcy …” she said, in honeyed, winning tones. “There must be some terrible mistake …”
Bingley jumped between them again. “You will not dare to speak to my guest after doing him such a dreadful wrong. If you think you will ever see or speak to Darcy again, you are sadly mistaken. Now. Go. To. Your. Chambers.”
The colour left her face, leaving just the two red spots on her cheeks, and she turned and marched from the room, fury in every line. Darcy wasn’t sure his own face had any more colour, but at last he could allow himself to breathe more easily.
“Thank you, Bingley. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.”
His friend smiled mischievously. “I quite enjoyed myself, in a strange way. Caroline has needed putting in her place for a long time, and I’ve been remiss in just allowing things to slide.” He looked a little anxious. “Do you think she will remain silent on the matter?”
Darcy grimaced. “I would like to think so, but I am not sure. Hell hath no fury, as they say.”
Bingley laughed. “I am glad you are still able to quip, Darcy. Now, let’s arrange for the coaches to be got ready and the bags packed.”
He beamed at Darcy. “I will take all the coaches, so Caroline is stuck with merely the chaise, but may I travel with you to London?”
Darcy bowed slightly. “I would have been delighted, Bingley. But, if you will forgive me, I will go to Pemberley.”
Bingley’s smile was sad. “I can understand that, Darcy. But do not stay and lick your wounds for too long. You must be seen in Town soon.” He bowed respectfully. “I will do whatever I can to ensure Caroline realises the consequences of what might happen if she is tempted to speak out.”
3
3rd inst.
Dear Uncle Henry,
I hope you are all well, and Aunt Alice is fully recovered from her cold.
However, I am writing about a serious matter for which I would very much value your advice.
4th inst.
I’m sorry, Uncle. I spent some time yesterday trying to think of the best way to describe my difficulty and could not begin. However, I am in great need of your assistance, so I will do the best I can.
Last week, I was staying at the new country estate of my friend, Charles Bingley, whom I think you have met. Unfortunately, his unmarried sister has long had designs on me — she is a most unpleasant lady, with ideas well above her station as the daughter of a tradesman.
I have always been most careful to avoid any risk of being in any sort of compromising position with her, indeed, I was so concerned that I was about to cut short my visit.
I was too late. Miss Bingley made the allegation to her brother that I had visited her bedchamber and that I would marry her. I am sure you can imagine my feelings.
Bingley, fortunately, knows his sister very well. He utterly refused to believe her, told her that he would never consent to a marriage between us, and said that if she made the allegation public, she would be ruined forever, because I was already betrothed.
Of course I am not, but I am grateful for him being willing to utter that fabrication on my behalf, for it silenced Miss Bingley for a few moments at least.
I have returned to Pemberley while I think what I am to do. Three days alone in the coach afforded me much solitary time to think and I have come to accept what I know you will advise, that I have waited far too long to marry.
Perhaps this was needed to bring home to me the seriousness of failing to wed. I have been thinking very much of Georgiana were Miss Bingley to make her allegations public — and I am sure she will be tempted to do so, to try and force my hand.
So I must marry, and very soon, but I am at a loss. I do not wish to marry Cousin Anne, which will of course disappoint Aunt Catherine, but it cannot be helped.
But if I do not know any suitable young lady, what am I to do?
Also, any so-called lady who could be persuaded to marry a strange gentleman, no matter how wealthy, must surely, herself be equally as reprehensible as Miss Bingley.
I am, therefore, at a complete loss, and look to you for your best advice. I confess, however, that if I find it unpalatable, I might not pay it any regard. But I will consider it to the best of my ability.
I know I have little choice in the matter. I do think it unfortunate, however. I would have liked to have chosen a wife with more care and a developing affection, such as you have with Aunt Alice. However, it cannot be helped.
I have written enough and I will await your early response,
I am, Sir, your affectionate nephew,
Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Darcy sat back, frowning. He wasn’t content with the way he had explained himself, but he simply could not wait further, and he folded the letter and wrote the direction.
Henry Fitzwilliam, Earl of Matlock
Matlock House, Berkeley Square
London
With a sinking feeling of sealing his own fate, he dripped hot wax from the candle to seal the letter, and stamped the ornate Pemberley seal on the wax as it cooled.
Leaning back, he reached for the bell. “Express post, please, Mr. Payne.” The butler bowed and departed with the letter, and Darcy could now no longer change anything.
4
Elizabeth was upstairs in the nursery, listening to Peter laboriously reading his book to her, when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” she called, startled. Sarah, the junior housemaid, put her head round the door, looking flustered.
“Excuse me, Miss Bennet, but there is a gentleman come to see you. He says he is your uncle, and he has spoken to Mrs. Adamson, who told me to call you downstairs.”
“Of course.” Elizabeth tried not to look as surprised as she felt. “Are you to stay with Peter?”
Sarah nodded. “Yes, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth hurried downstairs. Surely nothing could have happened to Aunt Gardiner, or one of the children?
Uncle Gardiner stood, waiting uncomfortably, in the small drawing room.
Elizabeth’s employer sat in her usual chair, and Elizabeth curtsied to her.
“Thank you for permitting me to see my uncle.” She turned to him.
“Is anything wrong at home?”
“Good morning, Lizzy.” He looked tired and strained, as he had for many months now. Elizabeth wanted to rush to him and give him a hug, but protocol kept her still.
“No, everything is well, I believe. But, as I have explained to Mrs. Adamson, I have an appointment with my family lawyer, and he has asked that you accompany me today.”
“Now?” Elizabeth turned startled eyes to her employer.
“Yes, Miss Bennet.” Mrs. Adamson nodded at her. “As I have explained to your uncle, I am very pleased with your work and Peter is fond of you. I wish to be reasonable, so I am permitting you to go with your uncle today. He assures me that you will return forthwith.”
“Thank you, Madam.” Elizabeth curtsied again and turned to her uncle.
“I’ll just fetch my coat and hat.”
They sat in Uncle Gardiner’s one remaining coach, and Elizabeth wondered sadly how long he would be able to maintain it. She took a deep breath.
“Tell me, Uncle, are you sure everything is all right? No one is ill?”
He shook his head. “No, Lizzy. Everyone is well. I had to come up with an excuse your employer would accept and that would not jeopardise your position there. So on the way back, you and I will have to invent a reason for you to have been asked to come with me.”
She
gave him a long look. “Can we not tell her the real reason?”
“No, not yet,” he said comfortably. He glanced over and laughed at her expression.
“No, really. He is my family lawyer — at least, one of his juniors is. I was there yesterday on business matters, and I raised the fact that I was searching for a more suitable and secure position for you.” He smiled, looking satisfied, and Elizabeth felt her heart beat a little faster.
“So what is the position? Will it allow me to send a little more money home to Mama?” She tried not to let herself hope too much.
“It is apparently as a companion for a fifteen year old girl, I believe. She is his niece, the ward of her brother. She is, I understand, very reserved and quiet, and has recently had a little trouble, and the family is looking for someone to be a friend to her and help her gain some confidence in herself. If it — and you — suit, they want her companion to be there for her for at least two years, or until she is ready to be out and seen in society.” He glanced at her. “It is a very good family, and there will be no financial worries at all.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I can do that.” She had already had to pack away her hopes and dreams for her own future. In two years, she would be twenty-two, settled into a life of service. She must push away her sadness, and she made herself smile at her uncle.
“I’m so grateful to you for making these enquiries for me.” She bit her lip. “I hope they do not think I’m dressed too poorly.”
He glanced at her. “No. I would think you might get an advance on your salary to purchase a suitable costume.” He patted her arm. “You look fine, Lizzy. You are just the sort of person I am sure they are looking for.” He chuckled.
“You will also be heartened by the fact that, although there is a house in London, the family’s country estate is in Derbyshire, not far from where your aunt and I are thinking of moving to.”
“Oh, Uncle Gardiner!” Elizabeth wanted to jump up with excitement, but sitting in the coach precluded that. She had to satisfy herself with bouncing on the seat, and he laughed.
“If anyone can help a girl gain confidence, you will be able to, Lizzy!”
She smiled and turned away, watching the houses along the road becoming larger and smarter. Wealth was becoming very apparent. These people wouldn’t be suffering as were the people of her own class, and those below.
She had always despised these people, these prideful aristocrats. They looked down on her, on those she loved, and she could not forgive it.
But there was something else not quite right about this whole arrangement. How had this wealthy family offered to consider her, just the niece of a client in financial trouble? Why consider her, when there were so many other, far better qualified — and to be honest — higher-born ladies, who would be better able to move in society with their charge?
She trusted Uncle Gardiner absolutely, but he wasn’t telling her the whole truth, she knew that. This was more important, or he would not have taken her without warning from her current situation to see this position, which was only a possibility.
She steeled herself and turned back to her uncle. “So, who are we going to see today?”
“We will be seeing the owner of the law firm today. He wishes to assess whether you would be a suitable companion for his niece before you meet her and her guardians.”
Elizabeth nodded. That was to be expected, she supposed. “Who is he?” she asked idly.
“He is the Earl of Matlock.” Uncle Gardiner said. “When you are speaking to him, you refer to him as Lord Matlock the first occasion you meet him that day, and after that as my lord.”
Elizabeth stared at him. A titled family? “They won’t approve of me, Uncle. You must know that. Aristocratic families will find a maiden aunt or someone they know well to be this girl’s companion.”
“Well, I don’t know,” he said. “I did not ask him to employ you directly, in fact I have rarely met him. As I told you, I deal with one of the juniors in his firm, and I just asked if they knew of anywhere that I might find you some suitable employment.”
“I understand, Uncle, and I do appreciate you taking the trouble to ask on my behalf, especially when you are so busy with your business.” She looked out of the window again.
Something was definitely not right, but Elizabeth decided she would enjoy the experience of meeting an Earl and not expect any more.
She curtsied politely when they were shown into the huge ornate drawing room at Matlock House. It was the biggest house on Berkeley Square, among other enormous mansions. This wasn’t the right place for her. She wondered what the country estate was like, perhaps they could spend more time there.
The Earl was a portly gentleman around the same age as her uncle. He smiled kindly at her and introduced her to his wife.
Elizabeth curtsied again. “Good day, Lady Matlock. I am pleased to meet you.”
“Good.” The older lady nodded. “Come with me, Miss Bennet, and we will take tea while the gentlemen talk their business.” She led Elizabeth over to the great fireplace, with a large and unnecessary fire leaping in the grate.
“Sit next to me, Miss Bennet.” She patted the sofa beside her and Elizabeth sat down cautiously. Something was most definitely not right. But Lady Matlock seemed a pleasant person and not too proud.
Two footmen carried in tea and pastries on silver trays, and when they were alone again, the older woman smiled.
“So, tell me about yourself, Miss Bennet. I understand you were left in a difficult position after the sad loss of your father.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Yes, my lady. He was a wonderful gentleman and I miss him very much.” Then she pulled herself together. She must gain this position. Whatever she thought of wealthy people, she would be able to help Mama and her sisters. She must do this, whatever it cost her.
Surprisingly, Lady Matlock barely talked of her niece, the girl who needed the companion, but instead subjected Elizabeth to an exhaustive questioning about her past, her experiences and education, and watched her thoughtfully the whole time.
Elizabeth would have resented this, but Lady Matlock was kind, perceptive and sympathetic, and Elizabeth found herself pouring out her lost hopes and dreams. She didn’t know how, but she even found herself telling the older lady of her mother’s anger when she refused Mr. Collins.
“Why did you refuse him, Elizabeth? I may call you Elizabeth?”
“Well, if you had met him, my lady, you would be in no doubt why I did so. But it was not just his — personal unattractiveness, but his arrogant assumption that I would not refuse, his failure to even consider that I was too distressed by the loss of my father to be thinking coherently …” Elizabeth shook her head and glanced at her hostess. There was a very strange look on her face.
Elizabeth jumped up. “I’m sorry, my lady. I have said too much.” She had ruined everything.
“Not at all. Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked so many questions.” Lady Matlock patted the seat beside her again. “But before you sit down, ring the bell, my dear. We will have some more tea, and you can tell me what you have learned in the last few years and whether you would have done anything differently, knowing how much more difficult things have proved than you could have imagined two years ago.”
An hour later, Elizabeth and her uncle were in the coach again and approaching the Adamson’s home.
“Well, I think your idea is as good as any I have, Lizzy.” Uncle Gardiner rubbed his face tiredly. “Just say that you have no idea what it was about, that you took tea with the lady of the house while I talked with my lawyer.”
“I will have to, Uncle Gardiner.” Elizabeth reached over and kissed him on the cheek. “Because we’re here now, and we have no other tale to tell.” She was a little worried by his manner. He was different now, a little unsure of himself, and she wondered what he and the Earl had talked about.
As for herself, she was quite sure she had been too indiscreet — much too indiscreet to be offer
ed the position. She was disappointed with herself. It would have been rewarding to help the girl gain her confidence, and also very pleasant to be in the calm surroundings of unremitting wealth.
She sighed.
“Don’t worry, Lizzy. Everything will come right in the end.” Uncle Gardiner patted her arm. “Are you going to come and see us on your next half-day?”
“I will, thank you, Uncle.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I do not know if I will lose it because of today. If I do, I will write instead and come the fortnight after.”
“All right, Lizzy. I didn’t get the impression that you would lose that time.”
“We will see. Thank you for bringing me home.” Elizabeth reached for the coach door.
“You’re welcome, Lizzy. And if I hear any more about — today’s business, I’ll let you know.”
Elizabeth stood and watched the coach drive away. This was the hardest part of being in service, such a very long time between seeing her family. She smiled sadly. She wrote very often to Jane and Aunt Gardiner, but knew they could not afford to receive too many letters, so she saved them up until she had a long missive to send.
Mrs. Adamson was quite understanding, and permitted Uncle Gardiner’s coach to personally deliver her aunt’s letter once a week, to save the cost.
Elizabeth turned and went to the back door. How long would these difficult times last? When Papa had passed, she had never imagined that employment would be this hard.
“Good afternoon, cook.” She smiled cheerfully at the buxom woman who was rushing round the kitchen with only one maid to assist her.
“So you’re back, Miss Bennet. I’m pleased to see it. Master Peter has been difficult, I think, so Sarah will be glad when you get upstairs.”
“Oh, dear. I’m sorry about that. I will just tell Madam I have returned, then I’ll go straight up.” Elizabeth took off her bonnet and patted her hair.
Forever, Darcy Page 2