Chapter 17
Their excursion to the Tower was delayed by a day due to rain.
For Elizabeth, it only added to her anticipation.
Despite the time she had spent in town when she was younger, she had never been, and she longed to explore a place she had read so much about.
In addition to the three gentlemen, Rebecca, Marian, and herself, Georgiana Darcy accompanied them.
Unlike when they went to Hyde Park, her companion was not there.
Since they were seven, they took two carriages, and Elizabeth rode with the viscount and her two friends, leaving the colonel and Mr and Miss Darcy to the other.
On the way, it occurred to Elizabeth that she was near to her aunt and uncle Gardiner’s home in Gracechurch Street.
Although she was not close to them, she was determined to find a morning to call.
She had always meant to, but she had been unexpectedly occupied since arriving in London, between Mrs Ryde and how frequently she was with Rebecca and Marian.
Both carriages had set out at the same time, thus they all arrived at the Tower without requiring one part of their group to wait for the other.
The usual greetings were exchanged, and Mr Darcy made a point of saying, “Georgiana, you remember Miss Bennet.”
Hardly above a whisper, she said, “Yes, of course. Miss Bennet,” and curtseyed.
“Miss Darcy, how lovely to see you again,” Elizabeth said. She had wanted to believe Mr Darcy when he had said there was an explanation for his sister’s cold manner; it encouraged her to speak more kindly than she otherwise might have, given their past encounters.
Miss Darcy briefly met her eyes and managed a small smile.
“Shall we commence our explorations?” Colonel Fitzwilliam said.
“Oh, yes!” Marian said with enthusiasm. “I have always thought the Tower a fascinating place to visit, but it is not the most pleasant to get to. The sooner we are away from here, the happier I shall be.”
There was scattered laughter. Elizabeth understood Marian to be referring to the nearby slums, which were unsightly and left her with a feeling of sadness, and the stench of the moat they had to cross over.
“Have you been here before?”
It took Elizabeth a moment to realise Mr Darcy’s query had been directed to her. She shook her head as she eagerly took in their environs.
“Georgiana has not been either, but I believe everyone else has,” he said.
They stopped for a brief moment, Miss Darcy at one side of him, Elizabeth the other, and he identified some of what they were seeing; she appreciated being able to take her bearings.
To Miss Darcy, Elizabeth said, “Are you as pleased to find yourself here today as I am? I shall forever be grateful to your cousin for insisting we pretend to be tourists in London, just as he, your brother, and I were in Dublin.”
Mr Darcy gave her such a smile, her breath almost caught in her throat. So that only she could see, he mouthed the words ‘thank you’. Miss Darcy’s response was to nod; her lips were pressed together, but it seemed to be more out of shyness than disapproval.
I must conclude he has spoken to her and insisted she treat me with less suspicion! It was a relief to think they might avoid too many awkward moments.
As a group, they decided on the path they would take, and they began to wander.
Over the next few minutes, Elizabeth discovered that Mr Darcy was a fount of knowledge about the Tower.
He began by indicating the direction of the new Royal Mint buildings on nearby Tower Hill, and continued by mentioning interesting points of historical significance.
Colonel Fitzwilliam teased him about it. “How many books about the Tower have you memorised? Miss Bennet, if you ever have questions about history, ask my cousin. But be prepared for a long lecture on the subject.”
There was some laughter, and she was glad to see that Mr Darcy accepted the joke with good humour; he slowly shook his head and looked heavenward.
“I would rather bore people with my knowledge than astound them with my ignorance,” he said.
This caused yet more laughter, including from her.
Mr Darcy continued. “Besides, I consider a study of history to be vitally important. If you do not have a comprehension of it, how can you possibly understand our present circumstances?”
“While that may be true, it is so annoyingly dull!” Lord Bramwell protested.
“Oh, I agree,” Marian quickly added. “I was never so glad as when I realised I would never have to read another history book.”
Rebecca reluctantly admitted that she felt the same way, and Miss Darcy’s expression was enough to show that she did too.
“Miss Bennet, you have not told us your opinion of the subject,” the colonel said.
“I am almost afraid to say that I have always rather liked studying history,” Elizabeth said. “It is a favourite of my father’s, and he taught me to appreciate it.”
“Just as well there is one person here whose opinion aligns with Darcy,” Lord Bramwell said. “You two may keep each other occupied and leave us to talk about the ghosts we shall see.”
“Ghosts?” Miss Darcy cried. “Do you mean of the people executed here? That is so gruesome.”
“There are no ghosts,” Mr Darcy said to her, and Elizabeth admired his calm, reassuring manner.
“And if there are, I shall protect you!” Colonel Fitzwilliam promised. “Come along, my dear.” He held out an arm to Miss Darcy, and with Marian at his other side, walked ahead, leaving the remaining four to follow.
Elizabeth experienced a moment of vexation at how quickly the others had left her alone with Mr Darcy, but she acknowledged that she had kept her sentiments about the gentleman to herself.
How were they to know she would find it unpleasant?
For that matter, what are my feelings about him?
Will it be so bad? After all, they had managed well enough in the park and at the dinner party.
As for her sentiments, there was no denying that they were shifting.
And, as they chatted about what they knew of the Tower and neighbourhood—tentatively at first—she realised she had largely given up her initial dislike of him.
At the very least, she wanted to forget it, whether that was because they shared friends or for some other reason, she did not yet know.
But how could she deny that he had many admirable qualities and the more she saw of him in the company of his family, the more it was evident he was a caring brother, cousin, and nephew?
He would never be as easy in company as Lord Bramwell or Colonel Fitzwilliam were, but she could not blame him for it.
And he was handsome, which all young gentlemen should be, in her opinion; it made them much more delightful to look at!
To add to it, he had a warm, deep voice, and she enjoyed listening to him speak about the Tower’s long history.
It was possible she asked him one or two questions she already knew the answers to just to encourage him to speak further.
Papa would like him, she reflected, although why it mattered was a mystery. They were unlikely to ever meet. Her father disliked London and seldom came unless it was absolutely necessary, and why would Mr Darcy ever go to Longbourn?
They spoke a little about the Traitor’s Gate, and Elizabeth said, “How terrible it must have been to be brought through it, especially as time went by and people knew what had been done to prisoners here.”
“I imagine it was even more terrifying for those who knew they were innocent.”
She made a noise of agreement, and after a brief pause, said, “As much as that is an important part of the Tower’s story, I think I would prefer not to dwell on it at present. It is too fine a day.”
“If one does not mind the damp autumn weather.” He watched her, his brow arched, and she laughed.
“Very true. I confess that only the most inclement weather keeps me at home. My poor mother despairs of my habit of spending as much time out of doors as possible.”
“I take that to mean you take pleasure in long walks when you are in the country, not just when you have a new place to explore?” She nodded, and he continued. “Do you ride as well?”
“Not often,” she admitted. “I am not all that fond of riding, and there is something satisfying about trampling across fields and down lanes. In Hertfordshire, there are not so many places I like to go to that I cannot reach by foot, which must make a difference to how I view the activities.”
“It would,” he agreed. “That is not the case at my estate. I have been contemplating teaching Georgiana to drive a phaeton. Now that she is older, and I anticipate her spending more time there, it would be good for her to have an easy means of visiting neighbours, even just another excuse to be out of doors. We have another cousin, a lady who lives in Kent, and she quite enjoys driving.”
She was about to ask about Derbyshire, but before she could, he spoke on, his words coming quickly.
“While we can speak privately, Miss Bennet, I wanted to explain my sister’s behaviour.
Last summer, quite by accident, Fitzwilliam discovered that her previous companion and an old acquaintance of ours were plotting to take advantage of her kind heart and innocence.
” He told her about Mr George Wickham, who had been his father’s godson and his close childhood friend, how he had become increasingly dissolute over the years, and his desire for use Miss Darcy for her money and to cause him pain.
“She says she would have been glad to see him, and likely would have believed anything he told her. I am afraid the incident has made her view everyone with suspicion. In short, she thinks she has been too trusting and has now become too untrusting. Mrs Annesley, Fitzwilliam, and I are all attempting to help her learn to be suitably cautious and recognise the difference between that and being rude.”