Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
T he park was quiet, and pearl-grey clouds dotted the sky. A bracing wind stung Darcy’s cheeks; at his side, Elizabeth shivered, and he asked if she were cold.
“Not all,” she replied, colour rising on her cheeks.
“Then why do you tremble?”
She gazed at him through long dark eyelashes in a way that made his pulse race. “I do not know,” she whispered.
They sat upon the same bench they had before and she said, “Darcy, what happened last night?”
The maid who had accompanied them was far enough away not to overhear, and no one else was about. He could tell Elizabeth of his worries, but as her expressive eyes, so full of concern, peered into his, he faltered. How could he reveal his sister’s shame and its aftermath to Elizabeth? Had he not exposed her to enough of his family’s misdemeanours? She has suffered so much, and now she is to learn that she will marry a man who might spend the rest of his life paying strangers to keep the truth hidden.
Elizabeth placed her hand over his. “No more secrets. That was our promise.”
No man alive could resist her pleading yet trusting tone. He cleared his throat and decided to break every promise he had made to himself and others regarding Ramsgate. In a lowered voice, he told her everything—of Wickham and his betrayal, the money paid to him upon Darcy’s father’s death, and how he had seduced Georgiana. After assuring her that his sister was recovering, he told her of the threatening letters that would destroy Georgiana’s reputation and rob her of every chance of future happiness. Shock was etched across her face.
“I beg you never to reveal what I have just told you to another soul,” he said. “Fitzwilliam knows, of course. He is Georgiana's other guardian, and I could not keep it from him. I would do anything to keep her safe.” He closed his eyes briefly, seeing his sister’s anxious face the day before as he persuaded her that there was no urgent reason behind her immediate removal to Pemberley. Her image was replaced by the haunting memory of Dominic’s body, lying grey and cold in a field. A rasping, choking sound escaped his lips and he repeated, “I must keep her safe.”
Elizabeth’s tear-filled eyes were fixed on his. “My poor Darcy!” she cried. “This is what you have been carrying in your heart and upon your shoulders all this time? When did the first note arrive?”
“About the same time as the insufferable articles about us began.”
“You believe this unknown person intends to spread word of Wickham’s reprehensible conduct soon?” His heart sang when he heard Elizabeth’s instant condemnation of Wickham. It was a subtle point, but it was gratifying to hear how quickly she attributed the blame to Wickham.
“I do not know.” A knot tightened in his stomach. “But after my failed gamble that the villains behind this would be tempted to reveal where they had come by the information for a lesser sum than they had demanded, I dare not take any more chances.”
“May I write to Georgiana?”
Darcy shook his head. “Not of this matter. She does not know of it.”
Elizabeth’s brow arched, and she insisted gently, “You must tell her. She cannot be the last to know.”
“I shall, when the time is right.” Privately, he added that it would be whenever he felt Georgiana was strong enough to withstand the shock. Elizabeth said nothing, and he felt compelled to defend himself. “You might think I am wrong to conceal this from her, but you do not know her as I do. A girl of her sensitive disposition would not be able to bear the pain of a public scandal.”
“I know you believe you are acting in her best interests, but how would she feel if she learnt of it from anyone other than you?” She continued hurriedly, “To discover that society thinks ill of her and she was unaware of it will only serve to augment any feeling of powerlessness she already has. At least, that was my experience. Promise me that if you hear any hint of rumour about her, you will tell her at once.” She ran her hand along his arm in a soothing gesture that was nearly painful in its intimacy. “Do you not see that these secrets are destroying you. You have borne too much alone.”
Moved beyond words by the tenderness of her touch, he could only nod. With the greatest reverence, he pressed her fingers to his lips in a kiss, overcome by how much he adored her. Their hands, still intertwined, fell to Elizabeth’s lap.
“Now you know the reason for my absence. Am I forgiven?”
Elizabeth gave a cry of surprise. “Yes, of course! I was disappointed, but I accept that your priority must be Georgiana. I am only sorry that I cannot help you.”
He dearly wished he could kiss her properly, but given their public location, it was impossible, and he contented himself with an affectionate squeeze of her fingers.
“You are of the greatest help to me, Elizabeth. No one makes me laugh as you do. I implore you to tease me out of this miserable hole I have found myself in. Remind me there are good, kind people such as yourself in this world, and I shall not lose faith in it.”
Her eyes shone with sympathy. “You are commanding me to make fun at your expense? Are you sure you know what you are about? I am every bit as merciless as my cousins.”
Darcy laughed properly for the first time that day. He smiled at her, revelling in her beauty.
“I highly doubt that, my dearest Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth warmed her hands by the fire and considered the letters she wished to write; she had been shamefully neglectful of her correspondence of late. How am I to commit into words all that has happened to me? So much of it cannot be revealed! Her mind drifted back to Darcy and their conversation that morning, her heart torn between sympathy at his confession and a bittersweet sense of honour that he would entrust her with such a painful secret. How could she ever have thought him proud and unfeeling? Their first meeting in Meryton seemed almost a dream, so different was he to the man she met then. Henceforth, I shall endeavour to be worthy of the trust he has placed in me.
She did not know how long they had sat side by side in the park, but eventually he had recalled her uncle’s request that they not be absent long. They had returned to the house, and Darcy accepted Mr and Mrs Gardiner’s invitation to stay for tea. He had not been able to remain long—of course, Elizabeth understood the reason why—but in the time he was with her uncle and aunt he was courteous and attentive. Every so often he would glance at her for guidance in their conversation, and she was glad to intervene, to make some teasing remark that put a smile on his face. Their farewell had been in front of Mr and Mrs Gardiner; he had bowed low and kissed her fingers with a touch so light it had caused her hand to tremble.
Her eyes fell to her recent letters, and she was reminded of Jane’s news of Mr Wickham and Mary King, which led her to recollect meeting Mr Wickham and how quick he had been to disparage Darcy. Might he be the person sending the wicked notes about Georgiana? She took out her writing materials. An explanation of the Morning Gazette ’s latest scandal was overdue. Determined to complete her task, she dipped her pen into the ink and began a letter to her father. She hesitated. Her pen hovered, and a drop of ink fell onto the paper.
She thrust aside the ruined sheet. If Papa is troubled, he can write to me himself. I cannot live my life in fear of what others may think. She knew she had done nothing wrong, whereas Georgiana Darcy did have cause to repent. Elizabeth resolved to save her energy for matters that were truly worth caring about. She began a new letter, and this time, the words came easily.
Dear Miss Darcy…
The next morning, Darcy found the Morning Gazette placed carefully on the tray bearing his tea and toast. By the anxious creases around his valet’s eyes, it did not bring glad tidings.
“It is about a third of the way down on page two, sir,” Cartwright said as he set down the tray.
Darcy dismissed his man with an impatient wave of his hand. Biting back a curse, he snatched up the paper and searched for his and Elizabeth’s initials. For his own sake, he might learn to ignore these hateful articles, but Elizabeth’s good name was being dragged into the gutter, and that was insupportable. A name caught his eye, and his heart almost stopped. It was not Elizabeth’s. It was Dominic’s.
Today we commemorate the short life of Dominic Fitzwilliam and pray his family might find solace in a Cheapside wedding, which is sure to take place soon. If the impending nuptials do not cost the groom too dearly, then perhaps the happy couple might enjoy a sojourn to sample the hedonistic delights of the seaside. We hear a great deal of pleasure can be found at Ramsgate and that a budget of five hundred pounds should suffice to cover the cost of visiting this illustrious town.
Darcy clutched the paper, his fingers white. Five hundred pounds. Was it a reference to the hush-money? To use Dominic’s name as a vehicle for this insistent persecution of his family was abhorrent. Setting aside the tray, Darcy began to pace about the room. What was the best course of action? Had he done the right thing in sending Georgiana to Pemberley? Would it seem as though he was trying to hide her away from society? Doubt began to take hold, and his mind raced. Then Elizabeth’s image came to mind, and instantly he was calmer. He must speak to her, to see how she fared after this latest incident.
Calling for his valet, he dressed hurriedly, recalling his promise to Mr Gardiner that he would not arrive unannounced, and wondered when was the earliest he could call upon her. In the end, the decision was made for him. A letter came from Mr Gardiner, requesting—politely, but firmly—to meet with Darcy that morning.
Darcy was immediately shown to Mr Gardiner’s study. Elizabeth was behind her uncle’s desk, her dark curls bent low over several large newspaper sheets. So engrossed was she in her activity, she did not immediately look up, and he was allowed a few moments to appreciate how lovely she looked.
“Mr Darcy is here, Lizzy,” Mr Gardiner announced. He indicated that Darcy should sit, doing so himself.
Elizabeth’s head jerked up, and Darcy’s heart nearly burst when he saw the pure, unfiltered affection in her eyes.
“I presume you have seen the latest piece of ridiculousness.”
He nodded. “I am not sure what to make of it,” he said carefully, not wishing to mention Georgiana’s name in front of Elizabeth’s uncle. “Dominic’s death was years ago, and it did not happen at this time of year. May I ask what you are doing?” He lowered his eyes to the papers in front of her, trying to guess what she had found so engrossing.
Elizabeth looked from him to Mr Gardiner. “May I please speak to Mr Darcy privately for a few moments? There is a matter I wish to discuss with him.” Unblinking, she held her uncle’s gaze until the older man eventually relented.
“I shall permit you a few minutes only, and the door must remain open.” He stood and gave Darcy a meaningful nod before leaving them alone.
“He likes you. I am sure of it.” Elizabeth smiled broadly at Darcy as soon as her uncle was gone.
“He does? If that is what his friendship looks like, I should not wish to be on the receiving end of his ire.”
Elizabeth attempted to give him a reproving look, but her eyes shone with amusement.
“Never mind that for now. We have much to discuss.”
“We do,” he agreed, moving to stand next to her. “I came as soon as I read the paper. We are not named, but between the mention of my cousin and a Cheapside wedding, it was clearly meant to capture my attention. Has it upset you? I would understand if it did. I admit, I am alarmed by the reference to Rams?—”
“But that was the most interesting part,” Elizabeth interjected, her voice breathless.
He regarded her with confusion. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Does it not strike you as a rather remarkable coincidence that, just as you refuse to yield to that unknown person’s demands, the Morning Gazette suddenly includes an article alluding to it?”
He sat back, suddenly understanding.
“Whoever has been sending me demands for money in exchange for their silence about Ramsgate is now in collusion with the paper.” He groaned softly, feeling stupid for not realising it sooner. “If that is the case, then it will not be long before Georgiana’s secrets are advertised and she is ruined. She is not strong enough. It will destroy her.” He buried his face in the palms of his hands, desperately seeking a way to escape this fate.
An instant later, he felt the comforting pressure of Elizabeth’s warm hand on his shoulder.
“Do not give up hope that we might yet find a way to stop this.”
He looked at her and was surprised when he saw how serene she was. “Would that I had your confidence.”
“If they wanted to draw attention to your sister, they could have included her initials, as they did with you and me. While you refuse to meet their demands, you still have the upper hand. Once the details of Ramsgate are out in the open, they lose the ability to extract any money from you.”
Her eyes were bright, and her chin was set with a determination he found charming, despite his present anxieties.
Speaking more to himself than asking her, he muttered, “But how ought I to proceed now? Writing to the editor again is useless. He would only refuse to provide any valuable information, such as who wrote it and where they obtained their information.” He snorted. “Information! What a ridiculous word, given most of the drivel he publishes is a work of fiction.”
“But this time, it was not.” Elizabeth lightly squeezed his shoulder. “Whoever is behind this had the opportunity to print a true scandal, but they chose only to make a veiled reference. It makes me all the more certain that there is a connexion between the person sending you those horrible letters and the newspaper editor. They will try anything to force you to pay them. Their last attempt did not work, and so we have this morning’s article. Naming your cousin was meant to cause you more distress.”
He nodded, accepting her reasoning, and said, “It still does not answer the question as to what we should do next.” He did not know precisely what he said that pleased her, but the look she gave him was one of deep tenderness.
“What I thought we might do,” she said softly, “is look through the previous notices about us. I was glad to learn that my uncle had the foresight to keep them, and I have been studying them.”
She reached across the desk, and in so doing, leant close enough that he could smell the rosewater on her neck. He felt unsteady in her presence, but she appeared unaware of the effect she had on him. Having retrieved the papers, she ran her finger absently across the first article, saying, “‘Miss B’. I always thought it strange that I was singled out.”
After checking the date on the front page, she made a note of it in a small leather book that had been resting, unobserved by Darcy, on the corner of the desk.
Catching his confusion, she explained, “It is my diary.”
“What do you hope to find?” he asked, gesturing to the stack of newspapers.
“Any clue as to why precisely I became a person of interest to the Morning Gazette .” Stopping at a page in her diary, she read it, made another note, and then repeated the same steps for another article. “It would appear that we had only met each other once when the first notice was written and twice when the second one was published.”
“How would you interpret the significance of that?”
“I cannot be sure. But do you not find it odd that I should be chosen when we knew each other so little?”
“I do. There must be more that we have not considered. Did anything else noteworthy happen at that time? I had recently arrived in Meryton. I knew no one there.”
“Whereas I was already acquainted with everyon—” She stopped abruptly, her cheeks red, and he encouraged her to continue. “I had recently met someone new, apart from you, Mr Bingley, and his family. Indeed, people were speculating that I had caught the notice of…” She averted her gaze. “ Him . You know to whom I refer.”
Darcy nodded grimly. “You need not mention that scoundrel’s name again. I do not see why he would be involved. We did not know each other, thus he could have no reason to make my life difficult.”
Elizabeth’s brow creased, and she returned her attention to her diary. “There must be a missing element, something we are overlooking. The more I think on it, the more I am convinced that whoever is demanding money has a connexion to the paper. Could Mr Wickham be involved? I could write to my uncle Philips, who is well-acquainted with Colonel Forster. He might be able to tell us something of inter?—”
“Elizabeth, you do not need to ask questions of your uncle.” Darcy shook his head slowly. “Georgiana is my responsibility.”
She tilted her chin towards him, “And one day she will be my family too.”
The sonorous echo of Mr Gardiner’s footsteps in the corridor indicated his return, and Elizabeth moved away, murmuring, “I forbid you to shoulder this burden alone. You must allow me to help. There is a vital element that connects everything, and if we work together, both investigate in our own ways, I am sure we can uncover why this is happening and, more importantly, who is behind it.”