Chapter Eighteen #2
“Yes, with your injury, it was the perfect time to explain myself,” Henry said, gazing down the street. “You and those great long legs of yours would have overtaken me with ease.”
“Henry,” Darcy said, briefly grasping his cousin’s arm. “What about your widow? Did you not wish to wed her?”
Henry glanced at Darcy, his expression devoid of its normal animation. “She would not have me.”
“Oh,” Darcy said, his heart aching for his cousin. “I am very sorry.”
“Quite a sensible decision, really,” his cousin replied, lifting one hand as he watched the street. “I had to give her a faint sketch of my business. It was only fair. But she has been made a widow once, she says. Does not want to do it again.”
“You might find other work,” Darcy suggested. “You could settle down. Fitz has his property, and we both know he would be quite happy to remain a country gentleman. Surely . . .”
Henry interrupted him. “Darcy,” he said, shaking his head, “I am making a sacrifice, that much is true. But it does not follow that I am unhappy. I am good at what I do. I make a difference. I keep my country safe.” He met Darcy’s gaze at last. “It is enough.”
Almost as if by magic, a small black carriage appeared before them. Henry climbed in and offered Darcy a half-wave through the window. Darcy saw him check the foil in his walking stick. Then the equipage turned the corner and was lost from sight.
“Will you be needing tea, Mrs. Darcy?” Mrs. Spencer asked.
Elizabeth shook her head, and the housekeeper slipped away. William’s reassuring touch on the small of her back steadied her as their visitors entered.
The Howards were dressed in traveling clothes, flanked by Fitz and Henry.
Elizabeth nodded at the introduction and turned her attention to Miss Howard.
The girl was about Lydia’s age but shared none of Lydia’s robust good health.
She was slender and pale. Several limp curls framed her face.
Elizabeth noted the dark shadows beneath her eyes and the trembling of her hands. “Will you sit?” she asked.
“I thank you, Mrs. Darcy,” Mr. Howard said.
“But we will not take much of your time. I thought it was important, before we sail, that we offer our apologies in person. I have made them to your husband, and he has been good enough to accept them, but I have not made them to you. I was badly mistaken in your husband’s character and badly mistaken in my own, but you have my sincerest regrets and apologies.
Please know that you have nothing to fear from me. ”
“Nothing further to fear,“ she replied, rather surprised with herself for the strength she now felt.
She stared directly at the man who had frightened her so badly.
“You lost all sense of decency when you took it upon yourself to seek revenge, Mr. Howard. I understand the need to protect a sister. I do not understand seeking to harm another in the process.”
Mr. Howard nodded once.
“My forgiveness is yours, sir, so long as you do not break your promise to my husband and my cousins. Stay in Upper Canada. Live a good life there. But do not return.”
Mr. Howard bowed and turned to his sister.
“Mrs. Darcy, I . . .” Miss Howard began, twisting her hands before her.
“My brother has told me everything he has done, and he has taken it all upon himself, but it is not true. If I had not . . .” She swallowed and took a deep breath.
“Lord Bartholomew met me one day in the park. He was handsome and charming and attentive, but when we were about to make our farewells, he spoke so my companion would not hear him. He asked me to meet him alone the next day. I demurred, but he teased me. He said I was too good a little miss to leave my governess.” Miss Howard closed her eyes.
“She was not my governess, but my companion!”
“Amelia,” Mr. Howard said, his voice low.
The girl continued. “Instead of resting the next day, I went back to the park to show him I was not a child. Because I had my own establishment, it was an easy thing. I found it . . . exciting. He said when I came out, we could finally be together in public, but he also said if we had the chance, he would marry me straight away. It was romantic.” She stopped to take a deep breath.
“We met each time in the park before . . .” She looked up, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.
“You know where it all led.” She paused before looking resolutely at Elizabeth, then William.
“Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, I was, I am so ashamed.”
Elizabeth was concerned the girl would faint, she was so drained of color, but Mr. Howard wrapped an arm around his sister’s waist and said something in her ear.
Miss Howard squared her shoulders. “When my brother learned of my condition, he demanded a name. I refused, but he would not relent. I panicked. I had sent a note to Bartholomew. It was discreet, but he could not have mistaken the message. He did not come, and I was so very afraid. I knew if my brother challenged him, Bartholomew would kill him.” Her little hands clenched into fists.
“I was so . . . confused. If I could not trust Bartholomew, I did not think I could trust any man. I did not wish to marry at all, yet I still held out hope that Bartholomew would come to me.” She paused to twist her fingers together.
“Georgiana had told us all that Mr. Darcy would never marry against his will. I made certain my brother knew that not only did I not wish to marry but that Mr. Darcy would never be compelled. I never thought my brother would. . .” She stared steadily at Elizabeth and shook her head.
“But it was a lie. It was wrong. And I have hurt everyone.
“ Her trembling increased, and tears streaked her cheeks.
“I apologize, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. So very deeply. I am grateful that you will allow us to begin again somewhere else. It is quite . . . it is extraordinarily gracious of you.”
“Indeed,” her brother murmured, his eyes downcast.
Elizabeth was angry with the girl for slandering William’s good name.
But beyond that offense and being foolish enough to be taken in by a scoundrel, her faults were nothing in light of her brother’s.
“Miss Howard,” Elizabeth said. “What you set in motion might easily have ended in tragedy. I hope you realize that.”
Miss Howard nodded slowly.
“You have made a number of terrible errors,” Elizabeth continued.
“But you are yet young. Your brother is much older and made many grievous errors of his own. If I can forgive him, I can forgive you. I do forgive you.” She glanced up at Darcy, who nodded so slightly she doubted anyone else noticed.
“Mr. Darcy forgives you as well. But you must never tell such a lie again.”
Miss Howard’s expression was grateful, almost reverential. “Oh, Mrs. Darcy, I never shall. I promise you that.”
“Then may I say fair voyage, Miss Howard,” Elizabeth said sincerely. She caught Fitz’s eye and lifted her eyebrows, indicating her dismissal of his charges. He nodded and stepped to William, whispering something in his ear.
“Fair voyage,” William said, his voice strained.
“I am not so gracious as my wife, I am afraid, but I shall follow her example and offer my forgiveness to you both. Howard,” he said, and it was as close to menacing as Elizabeth had ever seen her husband, “you understand, I am sure, how difficult this is.”
Mr. Howard bowed, Miss Howard curtsied, and they left in the company of the Fitzwilliams.
As the door closed, she exhaled. “What a relief to have that done,” she said. “What did your cousin have to say?”
William’s expression was grim, his voice pinched. “Wickham was court-martialed and found guilty, but he was given the choice of prison or the peninsula. His ship left at the beginning of the week.”
Elizabeth sniffed. “Good riddance,” she began to say but found herself suddenly clasped to William’s chest. “William?” she asked, her voice muffled.
“I could not have done it, Elizabeth,” he told her hoarsely. “I wanted to toss the pair of them from the house and wish them to the devil.” He held her tight. “Thank you, love, for being my conscience and my strength.”
Eventually, she pulled away far enough to meet his gaze.
“It is not really for them we have offered our forgiveness, William,” she told him honestly.
“I am not certain what Mr. Howard has done is forgivable. We forgave them for you and for me. Now that we have, I feel free of it. Do you not feel it too?”
William smiled wanly at her. “Perhaps when their ship has left the dock, I shall feel that it is all truly over and you are safe. Will you help me wait?”
“Come,” Elizabeth said, and took his hand. “Come sit with me until your cousins return with the news that the Howards are gone.”
“And what shall we do with the time?” he asked. He was making a valiant attempt to banish his resentment, and she admired him for it. He cleared his throat. “Will you require me to sew anything? I must warn you that I have a dreadful time threading a needle.”
“We might discuss how very pleased your aunt has been to have Jane as a daughter,” Elizabeth mused. “Or how well Fitz has taken to being a husband.”
Darcy felt himself beginning to relax. “I thought the man would lose every button on his coat at the wedding, his chest was puffed out so far.”
Elizabeth laughed a little. “It was very good of him to wait for the Howards to depart before taking Jane north. I know they are both anxious to see the estate.” She paused when Mr. Pratt announced his presence with a sniff.
“Mrs. Darcy, the viscount has left a note for you.” The butler walked over to hand it to her. “He asked that I see it to your hands personally.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pratt,” Elizabeth replied and took the note. She unfolded it and read it silently before asking, “Mr. Darcy, why is the earl giving me a house in Hertfordshire?”