by Brigid Huey
“Thank you, Darcy. Likewise.”
Darcy exhaled the breath he had not realized he was holding. Forgiveness came easily to Bingley, but there was more to discuss.
“There is something more to say upon this subject. I was wrong.”
“You have said that already, Darcy.”
“About Miss Bennet. I have reason to believe that she did care for you—very much, in fact.”
Utmost silence met this statement. Finally, Bingley shook his head. “How could you possibly know that? Who could have—?”
By the look in his eye, Darcy knew he had discerned the truth.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley groaned. “Dear God, she must absolutely hate me.”
Darcy gave a wry chuckle. “She rightfully blames me, and so all hatred is directed toward me.”
Bingley glanced up sharply. “I think you have misjudged yet another woman, Darcy. Miss Elizabeth does not hate you. That much, any fool could see.”
Before Darcy could question him further on this incredible statement, Bingley went on.
“Despite your foolishness, Darcy, it is I who am to blame. No,” he said, forestalling Darcy’s protest, “it has been many weeks now that I have known the pathetic truth. I gave up the woman I loved at the first hint of uncertainty. And now I find that I have broken her heart as well. How can I ever face her again?”
Darcy sat in the chair opposite his friend. “Though you may not believe it, I know something of what you are feeling.”
“You?” Bingley’s shock was obvious. Darcy was not surprised. He had told no one but Elizabeth of his feelings.
“Yes. And I can tell you this: the opportunity to make amends comes but rarely. If you still care for Miss Bennet, what is to be lost by attempting to see her again? To explain past faults?”
Bingley ran a hand through his hair, considering Darcy’s words.
“Only my pride, I suppose, if she were to rebuff me as soundly as I deserve.”
“Exactly. And if she does not, you can spend the rest of your life seeing to her happiness.”
“The rest of my life,” Bingley repeated. A look of relief came upon him, and he smiled in earnest. “Darcy, I believe I must leave Pemberley at once. I find my time will be much better spent at Netherfield.”
“I am glad to hear of it, my friend. Yet there is more I must tell you before you depart.” Darcy knew it was only a matter of time before the Bingley sisters learned the truth about Daisy, and he wished to share his knowledge with Bingley now before they embellished the truth.
“More confessions?” Bingley said warily.
“No, merely an interesting story with an uncertain end,” Darcy replied. He told Bingley the full tale of Daisy’s arrival, and Bingley reacted as Darcy had known he would—with shock, indignation, and an outpouring of support.
“Is there anything I can do, Darcy? Will you allow me to offer my assistance?” he asked. “I shall stay. I shall delay my departure until the child’s family has been found.”
“You will do no such thing,” Darcy declared, “though I am grateful for your offer of assistance. Miss Bennet waits for you at Longbourn, and you owe it to both the lady and yourself to seek her out now without further delay from me.”
Bingley put out his arm once more, grasping Darcy’s hand in friendship.
“Thank you, my friend,” he said. Then he left the room, an eager smile on his face, to make preparations for a hasty departure.
Chapter Four
Elizabeth felt she had rested little the night before. She had been unable to calm her mind. A day spent ruminating over Mr. Darcy’s visit had led to a sleepless night, and now she felt even more exhausted. In truth, she had slept little the past three nights together.
Be that as it may, she had agreed to accompany her aunt on her morning calls. They had saved Pemberley for last, and Elizabeth was still quite unsure of her welcome. Mr. Darcy had been more pleasant these past two days than she had ever seen him; he was solicitous of her comfort and had treated her aunt and uncle with great cordiality.
Yet, still, she was uneasy. She could not stop recollecting their encounter at the parsonage last April. The harsh words they had spoken contrasted so greatly with their current politeness that Lizzy knew not what to think.
It was only right, however, to repay the Darcys’ kindness with a social call of their own. Her uncle accompanied them, and Lizzy hoped that she and her aunt might visit Daisy as well.
Above all, Elizabeth was looking forward to seeing Mr. Bingley again. Perhaps she could try to draw him into a conversation about Jane for she still had not given up hope for Jane’s happy ending. She had watched Mr. Bingley most carefully during their conversation the previous day. Every mention of her sisters brought increased attention from the gentleman, and he had asked detailed questions regarding their health and whereabouts.
Elizabeth’s mind was quite distracted as the carriage brought them closer to Pemberley. When they arrived, they were not shown to the drawing room but to the library. Mr. Darcy appeared a moment later.
Elizabeth felt all the agitation of the previous day as soon as he entered the room. His presence seemed to fill the library, and she had to fight the urge to get up and wander among the stacks if only to escape his penetrating gaze.
He bade them all a good morning and begged them to be seated. He himself sat in a large leather chair opposite Lizzy. Her aunt and uncle occupied the sofa. Elizabeth found her mixed emotions left her rather desperate for conversation.
“Do you often entertain guests in the library, sir?” she asked, then bit her lip at her own impertinence. Her aunt gave her a glance of reproach, but Elizabeth pretended not to see.
“No, indeed, Miss Bennet,” Darcy replied a little stiffly. “I apologize if the setting is less than comfortable.”
Elizabeth raised her eyes to give another terse reply—convinced as she was that he was mocking her—when she saw he wore a rather nervous look. This only added to her confusion.
“Forgive me, Mr. Darcy,” she said. “I…I find I am a little fatigued from the events of the week.”
“Of course,” he replied though Elizabeth saw his brow darken further. For not the first time that morning, she felt flustered and confused. She had angered him with her sharp comments and was left feeling both regretful and foolish.
***
It was obvious to Darcy that she still thought poorly of him. Indeed, he guessed she would flee the room if politeness allowed. He had no wish to have this conversation with her, but it had to be done. If he were to speak with them privately, it must be now.
“Forgive me, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet, but there is a matter of some delicacy that I wish to discuss with you before we join the others.”
Mr. Gardiner nodded his understanding, so Darcy went on.
“I have discovered the whereabouts of Daisy’s mother.”
“Oh!” Elizabeth cried.
Darcy swallowed hard. How he wished he could spare her this information!
“I am sorry to inform you that she has passed.” Elizabeth’s hand flew to her heart. He winced to see her in distress and, once again, of his infliction. “Her name was Greta. She lived in London but traveled to Matlock to have the child. Her mother was from that area, and I suppose she hoped to find sanctuary with her. But she did not survive the birth of her child. I am afraid that Daisy was left in Pemberley Woods by a man—most likely her father.”
Darcy watched as Elizabeth’s eyes widened in shock. She worried her handkerchief in her delicate hands.
“Oh, how terribly distressing,” Mrs. Gardiner said softly.
“Indeed,” Mr. Gardiner agreed. Darcy could not fault the man for his displeasure at this painful announcement. “And where is this scoundrel now?”
“I am not certain, but my sources tell me he was bound for London. I am telling you this because I believe you deserve full disclosure, no matter how unpleasant. And because I must beg a great favor from you now.”<
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“A favor, sir?” Mr. Gardiner replied. Darcy noticed that Elizabeth said nothing. Her eyes remained troubled, her white teeth worrying her lower lip. Looking away from this distraction, he continued with his explanation.
“I intend to adopt the child as my ward.”
Elizabeth looked up sharply, and their gazes clashed.
“Why?” she asked at once. “Why would you do this?”
“It is my duty,” Darcy said. “Her father obviously has no interest in her welfare. I will see the man brought to justice, but I will not allow Daisy to be associated with his family.” His heart ached to hear her surprise. Did she still think so little of him that he would allow Daisy to go back to such a family? Was she unhappy with his decision?
“Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Gardiner began in hesitant tones, “you do realize that taking Daisy as your ward has certain implications?”
“I do, indeed,” Darcy replied. “I know that society may assume unjust things about her parentage, but I care not.”
“Do you mean to say that people will assume Daisy is your child?” Elizabeth asked, incredulous.
“Elizabeth,” Mrs. Gardiner admonished gently.
Darcy ignored her, looking straight at Elizabeth instead. “Yes, Miss Bennet. But I have learned recently that adherence to society’s whims can do much more harm than good in certain situations.”
She said nothing in reply but continued to stare at him as if seeing him for the first time. The look of wonder and confusion on her face was unmistakable.
“But what of the mother’s family?” Mrs. Gardiner asked. “Do they know of the child?”
“The poor woman had no family to speak of. The mother she sought out in Matlock perished last winter from influenza. No other relatives remained.”
“How very sad,” Mrs. Gardiner said.
“To the world, Daisy will be known as the daughter of a distant relation. With the exception of a select number of my servants, in whose discretion I have complete confidence, only you, Bingley, and Georgiana know of Daisy’s true parentage.”
“And what if her father claims her once you have adopted her? There is temptation there for the wicked,” Mr. Gardiner said.
“I have thought of this. I shall say only that I am well practiced in handling demands from such men.”
“And the favor you spoke of, sir?” Mr. Gardiner asked
Darcy paused. He hated to impose upon anyone, least of all Elizabeth and her family, but if Daisy were to be treated as a full member of society, it must be done.
“I ask you now that you not reveal this information to anyone as it could damage Daisy’s future.”
Elizabeth said nothing, though she continued to gaze steadily at him as if making a study of his person. Mr. Gardiner cleared his throat.
“You have placed great confidence in us, sir, and we shall not disappoint. You may be assured of our secrecy.”
Darcy nodded, relief flooding through him. Perhaps, for Daisy at least, all would be well.
***
Elizabeth followed her aunt and uncle as Mr. Darcy led them out of the library toward the sitting room where Georgiana, Mr. Bingley, and his sisters were waiting. She felt as if she walked in a dream, so muddled were her thoughts and feelings.
The notion that Mr. Darcy would adopt Daisy as his ward had never occurred to her. To think that, all the time she had been worrying over the little girl’s future, he had been planning to secure it as part of his own. Surely, she did not know the man at all!
She watched him now, walking a bit ahead of her as he spoke with her uncle. He seemed at this moment everything a young man should be: gentlemanly and kind and, she was finally able to admit, quite handsome.
As they were walking, Mr. Bingley came bounding down the stairs, hat in hand. “Ah! Darcy, there you are!” Then, upon seeing Elizabeth and her relations, he bowed. “Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet, good day.”
“Good morning, Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth said, smiling brightly.
“I am so glad to have caught you all, for I must take my leave.”
“Indeed!” Elizabeth could not conceal her surprise.
“Yes. I have a pressing matter at Netherfield I must attend to.” Mr. Bingley twirled his hat in his hands, and Elizabeth thought he looked almost nervous. Mr. Bingley turned toward her uncle. “I am very sorry to miss your visit, sir.”
“I hope your business resolves itself to your liking,” her uncle replied.
“As do I.” Mr. Bingley hesitated for a moment then turned toward Elizabeth once more. “Forgive me, Miss Bennet, for my hasty departure.”
Elizabeth regarded him with an arch look. She felt that he might be apologizing for more than his early removal from Pemberley. “You are forgiven, Mr. Bingley,” she said with a smile. “May you find the welcome at Netherfield to your liking.”
“Thank you, Miss Bennet.” Mr. Bingley turned then to Mr. Darcy, who had been silently watching the exchange. “Darcy, my sisters will be leaving tomorrow morning. They are to visit my aunt in Scarborough.”
Mr. Darcy merely inclined his head to acknowledge this information. Elizabeth felt herself to be keenly aware of his presence as she had always been. He was as silent in his exchange with Mr. Bingley as he had often been with her. Why, then, had she always perceived his silence as displeasure?
“I am sorry to deprive you of all your company, Darcy,” Mr. Bingley said, his usual jovial manner returning.
“We are, of course, sorry to see you go. However, I am hoping to rectify our lonely state.” He turned then to Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle. “Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet, my sister and I would be honored if you would be our guests at Pemberley during your stay in Derbyshire.”
Elizabeth felt certain that her nerves could not take another shock such as this. Guests at Pemberley? It was too much to be understood. She smiled at her own folly; her thoughts reminded her of her own mother. What would Mama say at such an invitation?
Her aunt and uncle graciously accepted the generous offer, no doubt misinterpreting her smile as pleasure. In truth, she could not say how she felt about this new development, so jumbled were her feelings. Before she knew what she was about, she found herself a guest at Pemberley. Her uncle was to see to their removal from the inn, and she and her aunt were finally led to the sitting room.
Elizabeth took her seat as if in a daze. Would she ever feel comfortable again? A look at Miss Darcy soon had her refocusing her attention, however, if only to save the poor girl from the attentions of Miss Bingley.
***
Elizabeth was going to be staying in his home! Darcy could scarcely believe it. He was not sure what had possessed him to ask them. He knew Elizabeth was still uncomfortable around him; that much was clear from her behavior in the library. Yet, as soon as the thought occurred to him, he had asked without any of his usual introspection and deliberation.
Whilst Mr. Gardiner was making arrangements with the inn, Darcy attended the ladies. As much as he hated social niceties of this nature, he would never leave Georgiana alone with Miss Bingley. As it was, the poor dear had been left to fend for herself for several minutes when he and the others had tarried in the hall.
He felt rather than saw Elizabeth rise at the other side of the room. She walked gracefully to the sideboard, retrieving some cake for herself and her aunt. Miss Bingley seized the opportunity to capture his attention.
“We are most displeased at having to leave so abruptly, sir. I am so very sorry to leave you all alone without company.”
“Think nothing of it, Miss Bingley. We are not alone as you see,” he replied, trying hard not to be rude.
Miss Bingley did not reply immediately. Her face was pinched in a look of deep offense. Clearly, it had not been her plan to remove to Scarborough. Bingley, apparently, had had enough. Being sent to Scarborough did not, Darcy knew, sit well with Bingley’s sisters.
He looked back at Elizabeth and was happy to find her engaged in quiet conversation wi
th his sister. Georgiana was painfully shy, just as he was. He had learned to manage his overwhelming desire to hide whilst in company, and he knew Georgiana would too. If only she could make a real friend as he had in Bingley.
His musings were interrupted by Miss Bingley’s voice.
“Pray, Miss Bennet, are the militia still quartered at Meryton?”
Elizabeth looked up, no doubt confused by the sudden question.
“No, Miss Bingley. They are encamped at Brighton.”
“Indeed? How unfortunate for your family. And did your favorite go with them?” Miss Bingley’s smile was not at all pleasant.
Darcy shifted uneasily in his seat. Caroline Bingley looked like a cat playing with a mouse. Her insinuations were bordering on rudeness. Georgiana, sitting quietly next to Elizabeth seemed to fade into the chair she was seated upon.
“Favorite?” Elizabeth replied with heavy skepticism. “I cannot imagine what you mean.”
“I understood that a certain Mr. Wickham was quite a favorite companion of yours.”
Darcy saw Georgiana blanch. Her eyes grew wide, and her fair skin grew paler still. Immediately he rose, though what assistance he could offer without drawing attention to her discomfort, he knew not.
“No, indeed, Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth said at once. “I take no pleasure in playing favorites. Miss Darcy, might I prevail upon you to show me the rose garden? Your brother mentioned it yesterday, and I should dearly love to see it.”
He had never felt more grateful. Elizabeth, his lovely Elizabeth, had saved Georgiana from agony.
***
Elizabeth was incensed. Miss Bingley’s rudeness was unparalleled this morning. She had grown quite used to her slights when the lady resided in Hertfordshire, but for her callous behavior to hurt Miss Darcy! It was not to be borne.
Miss Darcy murmured her assent and rose from her chair. Elizabeth hesitated a moment then linked arms with the girl. She could feel her shaking.
Feeling his eyes upon her, she glanced up to see Darcy, his hands fisted by his sides, looking at her with undisguised gratitude. She smiled tentatively as they passed, noticing as she did that he seemed to relax ever so slightly.