12. Chapter 12 An Overdue Discussion
Wednesday, 1 July
Darcy House
Darcy
A knock sounded upon my study door. “Come in.” I lowered the letter from Mrs. Reynolds, my housekeeper at Pemberley.
My footman Joe entered. “Sir, Mr. Miles Darcy has just returned.”
He is here. “Thank you, Joe.”
With a nod, he departed.
I threw the missive on my desk and strode to my brandy decanter. My hand shook as I poured, and a few drops landed on the tray. I drained the glass in two gulps. The past five days since I had met with Elizabeth had passed in a fog of misery. To stand before her captivating person and render her freedom had required every jot of my fortitude and self-discipline. Afterwards, I had been unequal to facing anyone and spent the next two days in my chambers. For Georgiana’s sake, I emerged on the third day and attended the dinner meal, though I made for paltry company and lacked an appetite.
Thereafter, when not locked in my study, I spent hours fencing, boxing, or riding. The activity provided a temporary distraction from the agony of my heartbreak. Elizabeth’s image continued to haunt me, but I clung to the belief that, if I could be assured of her happiness, I should find a way to be at peace.
I left the study and came upon my brother in the hall. “Welcome home, Miles.” I extended my hand and forced a smile.
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam.” He grinned, gripped my shoulder, and gave my hand a hearty shake. “I am glad to see you.”
“When you are ready, come to my study. I need to speak with you.”
With a slow nod, his expression sobered. “By all means, let us talk now.”
“As you wish.”
In the study, we took seats near the fireplace. Despite having had several days to anticipate this moment, I had not prepared a speech. I followed my first impulse—to clear the air and minimise his unease. “Your letter mentioned news you needed to convey, but I am already aware of what has occurred.”
“You know?” Crinkles fanned out from his eyes. “But how could that be?” His head flexed to the side. “Oh, I see. Miss Bennet must have told you.”
“No, she did not say a word.” I released a long breath. “I spoke to Berkeley the Saturday before last, and he revealed his suspicions to me. At the time, I believed him to be mistaken. But upon my return home, I spoke to Mrs. Annesley. She had observed you… with Miss Bennet in your work-room on that Friday.” I should not need to be any more direct for him to take my meaning. Yet Miles made no movement or gesture to acknowledge the significance of my declaration. He could not be this obtuse.
“Miss Bennet and me.” He scratched the side of his head. “I do not understand. What did Mrs. Annesley profess to have seen?”
Blazes , would he make me utter the words? “You know very well what she saw.”
“No, I cannot imagine what you mean.”
“There is no point in denial!” My hands clutched the arms of the chair with enough force to make my fingers throb. “Mrs. Annesley saw you and Miss Bennet in a romantic embrace. She returned upstairs and related to Georgiana what she had observed. This is why Georgiana feigned an indisposition and kept to her rooms.”
“Mrs. Annesley saw me and…” His eyes flared and his hand flew to his chest. “Oh no! I had no idea. Neither of them revealed a word of this to me. Poor Georgiana…and you…you must think the worst of me!”
With a slow inhalation, I willed my raging pulse to settle. “I do not blame you, and I shall not stand in the way of your happiness. I have already given Miss Bennet her freedom.”
“ You did what? ” Miles launched from his chair. “ Blast , this is my fault. I should have waited until you returned home to leave for Canterbury. If we had spoken then, this mishap could have been avoided.”
“What do you mean? More than anyone, I understand why you fell in love with her. Lady Matlock urged the two of you to spend time together. I do not suppose either of you wanted this to happen.”
“I have the utmost respect for Miss Bennet. She and I are friends, nothing more.”
“Why do you persist in lying?” My voice took on a sharp edge.
“I am telling you the truth!” Miles threw his hands at me. “Mrs. Annesley saw me with Miss Hawkins , the lady I fell in love with two years ago. She came to the house that day. Unbeknown to me, she had defied her father and broken off her engagement. I proposed to her, and she accepted me. I went to Canterbury because she had asked me to go and meet several of her close friends.”
It took a few long seconds for the significance of his statements to sink in. My heart raced. The temptation to believe him overwhelmed me, but I had to be certain. “How could Mrs. Annesley have mistaken this lady for Miss Bennet?”
“They are both slender and petite with dark, curly hair.”
I released a pent-up breath. Yet this did not explain Berkeley’s testimony, and he was far more perceptive than most people. “Why did Miss Bennet spend several hours with you here on that Friday? And why did Berkeley believe you were evasive with him?”
“I did not want him to know Miss Hawkins had been here. I had asked Miss Bennet to keep our engagement a secret. My betrothed is penniless and estranged from her father. I thought you might object to the match.”
“On the contrary, you have my full support.”
“Thank you. There is a second matter I kept from Berkeley. In retrospect, my secrecy contributed to this misunderstanding.” He beckoned to me. “Come, and I shall reveal it to you now.”
I followed Miles to his workshop. He knelt before a canvas covered by a sheet and leaning against the wall. He lifted the painting to an easel and removed the cloth. The sight of the entrancing image pulled me closer.
My God , Miles had created a flawless likeness of Elizabeth. He had captured the sparkle in her eyes, the brightness of her smile, and the disobedient beauty of her lush, dark locks. The image, so true to reality, rendered a placating effect even as the ache in my heart increased.
“I hope you approve of the portrait.”
His words stirred me from the painting’s allurement, and I spared him a glance. “It is superb. I do not believe anyone could have done a better job. I should have deemed it impossible to recreate the liveliness and depth of feeling in her eyes as you have done.”
“The painting was meant to be your wedding present. Of course, I could not have completed the work without Miss Bennet’s cooperation.”
How many hours had she sat for him? Had they spent the time alone together? “I do not imagine she relished the necessity to remain still for so long.” I attempted to sound nonchalant.
“She only sat for me twice. On the first occasion, I made several sketches of her at the Gardiners’ home and used them to complete the bulk of the work. On the Friday before last, she posed for me when I painted the final details of her face. With the unexpected arrival of Miss Hawkins and her aunt, she ended up remaining here for several hours.”
My momentary sense of relief died a quick death, for Elizabeth had chosen to end our engagement. For reasons unrelated to Miles, she no longer wanted me.
He stepped closer. “Earlier, you said you gave Miss Bennet her freedom. What did you say to her?”
I recounted the gist of our conversation.
“She loves you, Fitzwilliam. I am certain of that fact. She must have assumed you no longer wanted to marry her. For all she knew, you had no other reason to raise the topic.”
Could he be correct? I pressed my palm to my forehead. “My God, what have I done?”
He clapped me on the back. “Nought that cannot be fixed, I am sure.”
I grasped his shoulder. “Forgive me for not saying this sooner, but I congratulate you on your engagement and wish you every happiness. I am eager to meet Miss Hawkins.”
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”
My sight returned to Elizabeth’s enticing image. “And I cannot thank you enough for the painting. It is extraordinary.”
“The pleasure is mine. I am happy you are pleased.”
I rang the servants’ bell. “I am for Gracechurch Street.”
“May luck be with you.”
“Thank you.” I gave a silent prayer that she still loved me and would forgive me.
By the time I reached the Gardiner residence, the surrounding trees cast long shadows upon the front of the house. Barnet opened the door and bowed. “Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy.”
“I am here to see Miss Bennet.”
Rather than step back to allow me in, he remained in position, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “She returned to Hertfordshire on Saturday.”
Damn , of course she had. Why would she stay if she believed I no longer loved her?
“Mr. Darcy, this is a surprise.” At Mrs. Gardiner’s frosty words, Barnet moved aside. Elizabeth’s aunt drew herself erect and glared at me.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Gardiner. I had hoped to see Miss Bennet. It seems I am too late.”
With her slight nod to Barnet, he departed. Her hand fluttered, urging me forwards. “Come in for a moment. I should like a word.”
“Yes, of course.” I entered and followed Mrs. Gardiner to the sitting room.
She turned towards me. “I have a vague idea of what happened between you and my niece. Despite what she believes, you do not strike me as the sort to be fickle in matters of the heart.”
“No, not in the least. Nevertheless, I now realise I may have led her to think otherwise. When I last saw Miss Bennet, I had been operating under a misconception. I intend to explain myself and repair the damage I have wrought.”
Her lips edged upwards, lightening her countenance. “Then you are for Hertfordshire?”
“Yes, at first light tomorrow.”
“Then God speed to you, sir. And the next time I see Lizzy, I expect her smile to be restored.”
“I shall do whatever is in my power to make that happen.”
Thursday, 2 July
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
Darcy
Hill stood in the entrance and beheld me. His grip on the door tensed along with his deportment. “Good day, Mr. Darcy.”
“Good day. I am here to see Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Please wait in here, sir.” Hill stepped back and directed me to a room off the vestibule. He took my hat and coat and disappeared down the hall.
Too restless to sit, I paced in the small room. I dug out my pocket watch, which showed five minutes past one. What would Elizabeth have to say? I almost hoped she would rail at me—I deserved no less.
Hill returned and beckoned to me. “Please come this way.” He led me to the study. Had Mr. Bennet granted her the use of the room? But Elizabeth’s father and no one else occupied the study. At Mr. Bennet’s nod, Hill left, closing the door behind him.
Mr. Bennet’s cold, steely eyes settled upon me. “Mr. Darcy, I cannot imagine why you are here.”
I bowed. “Good day, Mr. Bennet. It is of the utmost importance I speak to Miss Elizabeth—or rather Miss Bennet. I must rectify a momentous misunderstanding from our last meeting.”
“There is no need for that. The two of you were mismatched from the beginning. My first instinct had been to deny your suit rather than postpone your engagement. If I had refused you, though, Lizzy would have fought for the betrothment all the harder. Now, everything is as it ought to be. She is at home where she belongs, among those who love her.”
“ I love her! And I believe she loves me. If you would allow me to—”
“No.” Mr. Bennet stepped around the desk to confront me. “You may be a wealthy, important man, but this is my domain. I gave you the opportunity to marry my daughter if you waited, and you bungled your chance. You will not toy with her feelings again.”
With a slow inhalation, I attempted to contain my outrage. “You mistake me, sir. I have the utmost respect for Miss Bennet. My primary object is to ensure her happiness and well-being.”
“If that has been your goal, then you have failed. From what I have seen, you have brought her misery!” Mr. Bennet removed his spectacles and tossed them upon the desk. “I do not know what occurred between the two of you, and I do not care to know. But my daughter returned home a shadow of her former self. Now, thank the stars, her former vigour is making a slow return. She is free of you, and so she will remain.” He rang the servants’ bell.
His words rent through me, and my ready retort died on my tongue. I had hurt Elizabeth. In my mind’s eye, I had a clear picture of her running from me that day at the Gardiners’ house. I had attributed her haste to her eagerness to escape the uncomfortable situation. Afterwards, I remained too consumed by my own misery to entertain other explanations. Since my conversation with Miles, the magnitude of my blunder had become overt.
Hill opened the door. “Yes, sir?”
“Mr. Darcy is leaving. Show him out.”
“Wait, please.” I could not leave like this—not without seeing Elizabeth! I sought a penitent tone. “I deeply regret having caused Miss Bennet distress. If you would allow me to apologise to her, I am certain—”
“No, I will see to Lizzy’s happiness now, and you will not go near her.” He raised a hand to Hill, who passed me my hat and coat.
“If you please, Mr. Darcy, you must come with me now.”
I trudged from the room, following Hill in a dismal haze. In the courtyard, a young stable boy brought my stallion, Regal, to me. I stroked my horse’s neck and stared into his dark eyes. What should I do now? Could Mr. Bennet have the right of it? I loved Elizabeth—I needed her. But did I deserve her?
Regal poked his nose in my chest, jolting me from my bleak rumination. I should not quit the area until I had spoken to Elizabeth. This time, I should leave no room for misunderstanding. I should stay at the Huntsman in Meryton tonight and find Elizabeth on her morning walk tomorrow.
Longbourn
Elizabeth
I knocked on the study door and entered at my father’s invitation. “You asked to see me, Papa?”
“Indeed, yes.” He pointed to the chair. “Have a seat.”
When I complied, the alarming flush tinting his complexion drew my notice. “Papa, your face is quite red. Do you have a fever?”
“No, no. I am well.” He indicated an empty glass. “My brandy is to blame—I indulged in a dram a moment ago.”
“I see.”
“Have you finished Epistles on Women ?”
“No, I have not.” At my reply, his grey eyebrows crimped together. I shuffled my feet upon the red-and-gold Turkish carpet. I had not mentioned my writing to anyone yet. Would Papa disapprove, or perhaps mock my efforts? “After I read the introduction, a new…um…project distracted me.”
“Oh? What is this venture?”
“I am composing a story—a novel, a…romance.” The last word came out in an undertone.
“This is a surprise since you have never before mentioned an interest in writing.”
“I began on a whim. My work may lack merit, but the process is both exacting and rewarding.”
“I commend you for this ambitious project. You are clever enough to excel at any endeavour you set your mind to do.”
My breath rushed out. “Thank you, Papa.”
He paused in a tense attitude. “Is this story of yours based upon yourself and Mr. Darcy?”
“No, the plot is entirely fiction—no characters or situations will resemble actual people or events in my life.” I bit the inside of my mouth. Whilst I had spoken the truth, the male protagonist in my story, though disparate in physical traits, shared many intrinsic qualities with Mr. Darcy. He still dominated my thoughts day and night.
“That is a wise choice.” He adjusted his weight to the right, propping his elbow upon the chair. “Your revelation makes my plan all the more fitting.”
“What plan is that?”
A smile played over Papa’s mouth, and his brown eyes shone. “I want you to accompany me to Bedford to stay with my old friend Mr. Baxter. I thought we should sojourn there for a fortnight. What say you—would you like to take this journey with me?”
“This is sudden. You have not mentioned your friend in a long while.” Mr. Baxter, a former university professor of Papa’s, had stayed at the house many times in my youth, but over five years had elapsed since his last visit.
“Well, I received a letter from him this week, and he reiterated his offer for me to be his guest. Too much time has passed since I have seen my old friend.”
“I should like to go, but are you certain he will not mind if I come?” The older gentleman had always been kind to me and my sisters; yet he was accustomed to living alone.
“Baxter will be delighted—he has always been fond of you.”
“Why have we not seen him in so long?”
“My friend shares my dislike of travelling. He used to journey to London each year to visit a cousin, but the man died in the year seven. And I have been remiss—I have promised to visit him but never did. It is high time I kept my word.”
“When shall we leave?”
“If you can be ready, I should like to depart in two hours.”
Two hours? “Is it not late in the day to travel? Why not go tomorrow morning?”
“It is the height of summer—we have plenty of daylight hours left. And we need not arrive until tomorrow. For tonight, we shall select one of the many inns along the way. Stevenage would be a fine place to stop.”
“I see.” I shifted forwards in my chair. I had never stayed in an inn before; it ought to be diverting. “Yes, I shall be ready.”
“Splendid.” He nodded. “You will approve of Bedford—it is a market town similar to Meryton. Baxter resides near a large wood, so you will have miles of picturesque wilderness to roam, and you will have plenty of time to write.”
“I am eager to see your friend—and Bedford as well.”
“Be certain to bring your manuscript.”
“Why should I do that?”
“My dear, Baxter is a respected author—he has written textbooks for Oxford students on literature and philosophy. You could not find a better person to judge your work.”
I swallowed. “Oh, but it is too soon to show my writing to anyone. Besides, I have scribbled it down in a makeshift form of short-hand that will make sense to no one else.”
“Then you must read your work aloud to us.”
Could I do that? I squashed my lips together. It would be helpful to get their opinions, even if they offered nothing but criticism. “Yes, I suppose so.”
“Make haste now. Instruct Sarah to pack your portmanteau and prepare yourself to depart.” He flung his hand in my direction to incite my alacrity.
“Yes, Papa.” I rose and darted from the room.