Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
By the time Mr. Darcy’s carriage arrived in St. James’s Square, its occupants had been informed both of what had passed in Mr. Gardiner’s study and of Mr. Wickham’s actions in Ramsgate.
Their party was shown into a small drawing room brilliantly lit with candles. Elizabeth saw three figures—an older couple who must be the earl and countess, and a girl who appeared to be about the age of her younger sisters.
“Georgiana,” Mr. Darcy breathed. He seemed to shake himself.
“Forgive me. Aunt, Uncle, Georgiana, may I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner? Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, the Earl and Countess of Matlock and my sister, Miss Darcy.” He turned to Elizabeth and held out his hand.
She took it, and he gently guided her to his side.
“This is my betrothed, Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn.”
The countess stepped forward to take Elizabeth by her hands. She was rather tall and stout.
“My dear girl,” the countess said warmly, “We have been expecting you. I am so happy that one of my boys is finally settling down.” She sent an icy glare in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s direction before examining Elizabeth. “Oh! You are a pretty little thing.”
The earl, barely taller than his wife and so thin as to appear nearly gaunt, simply nodded a welcome.
Mr. Darcy spoke a word in his sister’s ear.
She paled, but he took her hand and squeezed it gently before stepping away.
He and the colonel moved to another part of the room to speak with the earl while Mr. Gardiner and the ladies made polite conversation.
It was not long before the Gardiners had been assured that Elizabeth would be well taken care of and took their leave.
“We shall return for your wedding,” Aunt Gardiner whispered to her. “We would not miss it.” She briefly glanced across the room at Miss Darcy, who had wandered to a settee near the fire. “Do see if you can cheer that poor child up. She appears positively miserable.”
Elizabeth kissed her aunt’s cheek. “I will. Thank you for everything.” She would say more were she not in a crowded room where anyone might overhear, but her Aunt Gardiner, as always, understood. She touched Elizabeth’s cheek affectionately, then took her husband’s arm, and was gone.
Mr. Darcy startled at their departure, and Elizabeth met his gaze. He appeared abashed that he had not farewelled them, but in fairness, his attention had been commanded by his family.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said after following the countess to the settee.
The men remained standing, speaking in hushed tones on the other side of the small room.
“I do hope you are resigned to having a sister. I have four more at home and shall miss them when I marry your brother.”
This produced only a tiny smile, but it seemed a genuine one. “I am resigned, thank you.”
Elizabeth could not help but laugh a little. “Oh, I think we shall get along very well, you and I.” She raised her voice. “Together we shall tease your brother to distraction.”
“As if you do not manage that already,” Mr. Darcy replied with an affected sniff. “Do not recruit my sister to your devious cause.” Elizabeth pretended to be affronted. She lifted her eyebrows at him. He did the same and returned to his conversation.
Miss Darcy’s eyes widened a bit at the break with propriety, but after a glance at the countess, soon calmed herself. Elizabeth realized that being in company was an effort for the girl, but Miss Darcy seemed resolved to be successful.
She was still wondering how to ease Miss Darcy’s way when the girl spoke.
“My brother says that you know about last summer,” Miss Darcy said, the volume of her words nearly inaudible. “He was so disappointed in me. I have been so very upset and angry with myself that I have not really been able to face him, not even to apologize.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to exchange a look with the countess, who gave her a small but encouraging smile. “I cannot speak to his emotions before he was known to me,” Elizabeth told the younger girl. “Only that when your brother told me what had happened, his anger was not for you.”
“No?” Miss Darcy asked. It was easy to hear the hope in her question.
“He was very angry at the scoundrel who so abused you, Miss Darcy. And although he did not say as much, I could see he was angry with himself for not protecting you.” As Elizabeth spoke the words aloud, many of Mr. Darcy’s unconventional actions this past week suddenly made sense to her.
“But he did. He warned me about Mr. Wickham.” Miss Darcy’s expression was both surprised and morose. “But I would not listen.”
Elizabeth shook her head. Jane had advised her that things might not be as she believed. “I was cautioned, too, and ignored it. Your brother set me right.” She did not mention the insult the lieutenant had uttered about Miss Darcy.
“William never makes mistakes,” the girl said, biting her lower lip.
“Oh,” Elizabeth said, surprised that anyone could see Mr. Darcy as flawless, “I am afraid that he does. Your brother is a good man, but he is as human as the rest of us.” She glanced over at the others in the room, who were still caught up in their discussion, and gave Miss Darcy a mischievous grin. “Let me tell you a story.”
The countess sat up very straight, turning her head slightly towards Elizabeth in anticipation.
She focused on her future sister. “Your esteemed elder brother came into Meryton like a tall black cloud.”
Miss Darcy blinked. “A tall black cloud?”
Elizabeth met the eyes of the countess, who nodded.
“Yes. A very tall, black cloud. Does he own a single coat in another color?” Georgiana’s eyes darted first to her brother and then back to Elizabeth.
“The first time I saw him was at a dance, where he flatly refused to stand up with me. It was a terrible performance on his part.”
“Oh, William,” the countess chided, though the object of her scold had his back to her.
At the same time, Georgiana addressed Elizabeth. “He refused to dance with you? But then . . .”
“That is only because he did not yet know me,” Elizabeth explained playfully. “For soon he was asking me to dance, and I was refusing to stand up with him.” She felt Mr. Darcy’s presence behind her. “I believe I refused him twice before relenting.”
The earl laughed, a short, barking sort of sound. “Serves you right, Darcy. You always have been far too stiff outside the family circle.”
“I have my reasons, Uncle,” Mr. Darcy protested. “Though I admit in this case, I was mistaken.” He looked down into Elizabeth’s upturned face and lifted an eyebrow. “I think.”
Elizabeth pretended to be affronted, and Colonel Fitzwilliam snorted. “A fine concession, Darcy,” he cried.
“You see, Miss Darcy?” Elizabeth said pertly. “Even your brother admits that he makes mistakes.” He joined them on the settee. “Large ones.” She smiled innocently. “Potentially calamitous.”
Mr. Darcy huffed, but Miss Darcy giggled, and his petulance immediately transformed into a surprised pleasure.
“Georgiana,” the countess said, “It is growing rather late, dear. We shall have time to speak in the morning.”
Miss Darcy rose obediently and curtsied to Elizabeth. “Shall I see you at breakfast, Miss Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Indeed you shall.”
The girl stood and addressed Mr. Darcy. “Good night, brother. I am glad you are here.”
Mr. Darcy swallowed, and his eyes were suspiciously shiny in the candlelight. He reached for Miss Darcy’s hand and held it for a moment. “Good night, sister. Pleasant dreams.”
As the door shut behind her, Elizabeth felt flush with success. It lasted nearly half a minute until the earl declared, “I want the entire, unvarnished story. Who wants to begin?”
Darcy rubbed a hand over his eyes. It was very late.
They had been through this story so many times this day he was beginning to forget that it was meant to be a secret.
Beside him on the settee, Elizabeth’s head drooped before jerking up again.
He was no less exhausted after being in the saddle for a good part of the day and having had precious little rest since.
He would not have minded a hot meal, but it would have to wait until the morning.
He stood and helped Elizabeth to rise. “Come, my dear. It is time to retire.”
Aunt Matlock stood. “I shall see Elizabeth to her room, William.”
Darcy handed a sleepy Elizabeth off to his aunt. “Sleep well, love,” he murmured.
“I feel I shall awake and discover all this has been a dream,” Elizabeth murmured.
His aunt chuckled.
“I feel the same,” Darcy said, “but I suppose the morning will come soon enough and then we will know for certain.” He exchanged one last look with his betrothed and then watched the women exit the room before sitting again near the fire.
“You know, Darcy,” his uncle said nearly the instant the door closed behind them, “you are giving up a great deal to wed that young lady.”
He met Fitz’s sympathetic gaze. It was difficult hearing his own pompous arguments against attaching himself to Elizabeth coming from someone else.
Now that he had decided to wed, it exasperated him to hear anyone question it.
He felt again how much he owed Fitz for making him see reason.
“I am giving up nothing that matters, uncle, and am gaining a great deal.”
Uncle Matlock sighed. “Fortune and connections are not insignificant things, my boy.”
“That is true,” Darcy admitted. Fitz held up the decanter of port, but Darcy shook his head.
He was too tired for wine. “However, the crux of it is this: I love her. She loves me.” He shook his head.
“Fortune I have. Connections I have. What I do not have is Elizabeth.” He stared at the earl, willing him to understand.
“And I need her, uncle. If I do not marry Elizabeth Bennet, I shall not marry at all.”
His uncle drank deeply from his glass and set it down. “Your aunt would hang me by my heels were that to happen.”