Chapter 24
Elizabeth was sure that the innkeeper at Meryton knew she was running away, though why he would ever think that was anyone’s guess.
She had all her sisters accompanying her as she waited for the next post chaise to London.
Maybe it was because she had never travelled unaccompanied, never even considered it, that she felt all eyes on her were suspicious.
It was madness; her aunt and uncle may rightly send her back immediately for they would not want to be dragged between her and her father's disagreements. It was a wonder her mother had agreed to their plan; but then Lydia had been a hair’s-breadth away from destroying two of her favourite gowns.
Elizabeth thought that the lace on the sleeves had already been pulled out a bit before her mother, in horror, had consented to whatever they wished.
She had not been there to observe the chaos, busy with Mary and Kitty as they hurriedly packed her belongings.
Somehow Jane and Lydia had put the fear of the devil in Mrs. Bennet who had rushed up and handed her ten pounds from her pin money.
She then muttered something about ungrateful children and that she better return married for her father was unlikely to provide funds for her trousseau or wedding breakfast.
“Papa will provide Lizzy with the wedding she deserves, or it will be his books that will suffer.” It had been Mary who answered in a stern voice.
“Well, I never!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.
“Lizzy has always been the best of sisters and we will never let her suffer for Papa’s whims.” Jane had said as she had summoned the footmen to take the luggage. Soon the sisters with the footmen trailing had reached the inn.
“Oh! Lizzy, it would have been much better if Papa had not taken the carriage, then you would not have to travel alone by post.” Kitty had commented.
“You can be such a wimp, Kitty. Lizzy will have a grand time.” Lydia replied.
The innkeeper, seeing the Bennet sisters had been quick to arrange everything to their comfort, but Elizabeth could not help noticing his curious eyes. It was no wonder for no matter how bold her sisters may have acted, none of them had ever travelled by post.
“My aunt has summoned me to London, quite urgently.” She said to the innkeeper, as he offered them some refreshments.
“Of course, Miss, I hope all is well with the Gardiners.”
Soon the coach arrived, and Elizabeth was on her way to town.
She could hardly credit the reality of her actions.
The whole of her journey she kept imagining how and when she would call on Georgiana for then Mr. Darcy would know that she was in town.
Maybe her aunt would extend a dinner invitation to the Darcys, Elizabeth knew that Georgiana visited Gracechurch Street frequently for she had become very fond of the Gardiner children from their time together at Longbourn.
Then again doubt surfaced in her mind. Her aunt and uncle were all things proper and respectable and may not appreciate her uninvited arrival.
She may still be sent back to Longbourn in disgrace without ever having a chance to meet Mr. Darcy.
The thought caused her heart to constrict, and she turned to look out of the window.
She was familiar with the road to London and could see that they were still some two hours away.
It was raining lightly but soon the rain picked up and she could not help but think that her petticoats were sure to be covered in mud the moment she got down.
Well, it hardly mattered, it was not as if Mr. Darcy was waiting at the coaching inn to admire her appearance.
She giggled at this errant thought, remembering how scandalized he had looked with her appearance when she had appeared at Netherfield to check on Jane.
He may have admired her beauty as he had claimed but she was convinced he was horrified by her actions.
The rain picked up even more as they entered London and at the last coaching inn Elizabeth was soaked despite the footman holding an umbrella.
She engaged a servant boy to get her a hackney cab as she dried herself near the fire.
As she waited for the servant to return, she took out Darcy’s letter from her reticule, and read it again.
Tears were soon streaming down her eyes as they always did whenever she read those heartfelt words.
She had desperately missed him and could not imagine the pain he must be feeling at their separation, that too by the hands of his dear friend.
How she wished that she could be with him and assure him of her constancy for she knew that her emphatic refusal in Kent still made him insecure.
“Miss, your carriage is here.” The boy called to her, breaking her reverie. She hastily got up folding and putting the letter quickly back in her reticule. The servants had loaded her luggage and she gently climbed up as the coachman helped her with her valise.
“Where to, Madam?” He asked.
“Darcy House, Brook Street.”
Elizabeth stared as the coachman went to the front and started driving the carriage.
What had she done? She thought frantically, she could not call on Mr. Darcy, it was highly improper, and he was nothing if not conscientious of propriety.
The carriage rushed towards Mayfair as Elizabeth kept thinking of all that could go wrong.
Mr. Darcy may not even be home and even if he was then what?
Was she to now stay with him or ask him to join her in her hired vehicle as they made off to Scotland.
This was madness, she should ask the coachman to turn towards Gracechurch Street but somehow the words never came out.
Before she realised, she was staring at the stone facade of the impressive building which was supposedly Mr. Darcy’s home.
“Madam, should I ask a servant to come out for the luggage,” the coachman said as he helped her down.
“No, no. If you will wait a few minutes, I will just go in," she said and shivering in the rain with her bonnet askew and her dress wrinkled, she squared her shoulders and stepped up to the door and rapped the knocker.
A dignified looking butler opened the door and though not a muscle in his face moved, his disapproval for the young, unaccompanied lady on the doorstep of such a grand house was apparent.
“How may I help you?”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire to see Mr. Darcy.” She said as calmly and confidently as she could manage. The butler looked like he had swallowed a lemon at the mention of an unmarried Miss calling on Mr. Darcy.
“Please step into the foyer and wait, I will inform the master.” Thus saying, he walked away leaving Elizabeth to her embarrassment.
Darcy had been working in his study, trying to get through all his business but thoughts of Elizabeth kept intruding.
She was never far from his thoughts from the time he had returned to town.
Georgiana had allowed him to read her letters from Elizabeth but they did little to fill the void.
The letters were intensely vague, for she seemed to respect his decision to keep Georgiana unaware of the whole ordeal.
He kept feeling anxious about when she would change her mind even if only to appease her family.
He tried reading the investment proposal a third time trying to make sense of it when his butler walked in, disapproval evident in his bearing.
“What is it, Hawkins?” Darcy asked absently.
“There is a caller, sir. A Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” He said, confident that Mr. Darcy was going to ask him to see the lady out and warn her against such imprudent action in the future.
It was only by instinct that Hawkins was able to maintain his footing for his master prang from his chair the moment he had mentioned Miss Bennet’s name and nearly collided with him in his rush to see her.
“Where did you say she is waiting?” Darcy asked with an urgency the butler had never witnessed.
“In the entrance foyer, sir,” he responded as he followed his master trying to understand this unprecedented behaviour.
Soon Darcy could see Elizabeth, standing there in the foyer, trying to look brave but shaking with uncontrolled anxiety.
“Elizabeth,” he called out as he reached and took her hand, kissing it with a fervour.
“Whatever are you doing here? Is something the matter?” he said, with concern thinking of all sorts of emergencies that could have necessitated this frantic arrival.
“I could not stay away,” she replied in a whisper and before she could realise Darcy had pulled her in an embrace.
Hawkins was looking as if the floor beneath him had opened, and he was thrown into an alternative world.
Never in all his twenty years of service had he seen Mr. Darcy do anything even slightly improper and now he was standing in the foyer embracing an unmarried gentlewoman.
That he did not faint dead away was only because shock had rooted him to the floor.
Then something even more outrageous happened, something that Hawkins would repeat for years to come.
Darcy slowly let go of Elizabeth and once again took her hand and kissed it, looking her in the eye with all the love he possessed and then Elizabeth spoke, “In vain, I have struggled. It will not do! My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. Mr. Darcy, will you marry me?”
Darcy could not believe his ears and threw back his head and laughed with abandon and then pulling Elizabeth to him calmly replied, “Will tomorrow suit Miss Bennet?”
This time Hawkins did faint dead away.