Chapter 11
“Oh, my…” murmured Elizabeth, feeling almost as though the last hour had been a strange dream.
In Mrs Bevan’s retiring room, she splashed water on her face and gasped at the cold before leaning back against the wall and trying to catch her breath. She felt like a soldier who had gone into battle and returned alive against all odds.
Of all the peculiar, unexpected coincidences, this was the last thing she had been prepared for.
Elizabeth had never imagined for a second that Mrs Bevan’s fastidious client might be Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, a man whom Elizabeth had once, only half humorously, sworn to hate.
There had been some clues now that she looked back, but she could not possibly have known. Could she?
Mr Darcy was not the only gentleman in England with an orphaned sixteen-year-old ward who played the pianoforte.
Nor was he the only fussy, demanding, and sometimes overcritical gentleman.
If she had been given the family name, Elizabeth would never have attended this interview.
Mrs Bevan, however, had deliberately withheld this to protect her client’s privacy.
No, Elizabeth had no reason to berate herself for walking so unwarily into this confrontational interview today.
Drying her hands and face and touching her hair, she looked at herself in the mirror and saw only her usual countenance, no different from what she saw every morning and evening. And yet, she felt different now.
“I am a companion,” she whispered to herself in mingled triumph, disbelief, and trepidation.
In Mrs Bevan’s office, Mr Darcy and Mr Gardiner would still be talking over the details of the contract.
Miss Darcy would be sipping tea in the sitting room as she waited for her brother.
Elizabeth had participated as needed in all conversations and then excused herself to the retiring room to gather her thoughts.
Somehow, Elizabeth had just been hired by Fitzwilliam Darcy and would soon go to live in his house.
There, she must see and converse with him every single day.
That thought prompted strange butterflies in her stomach and made her feel distinctly nervous.
She would have to try hard not to argue or rail at Mr Darcy, for Miss Darcy’s sake…
…and for her own. It dawned on Elizabeth that Mr Darcy would now be able to dismiss her from her post if she displeased him.
This idea caused her indignation, but she knew she would have to lay such feelings aside.
Their views might well clash, but paid companions did not have the same luxury of expression as young ladies of leisure whose only aim was marriage.
Elizabeth took a spare pin from her reticule and pinned back a damp, unruly curl from her brow as she tried to resign herself to this reality. If she wished to succeed as a companion, she would have to do as Mr Darcy instructed. That was the nature of the role, and what any employer would expect.
But why had he hired her? That puzzle bemused Elizabeth even more than the fact that she had accepted the role.
Mr Darcy had seemed quite as astonished as Elizabeth when they first saw one another today, and hardly pleased by her appearance either.
In fact, Mr Darcy had barely even looked her in the eye.
His apparent indifference had made Elizabeth expect a quick termination of the interview, though she had been much mistaken.
Overall, she retained the impression that Mr Darcy did not much like her, or anyone else in Hertfordshire.
Elizabeth would have supposed that an over-proud man like Mr Darcy would only be satisfied with a very experienced and better connected companion for his sister, someone like Miss Caruthers with great learning and titled relatives.
Given all this, it made no sense to even interview her.
But if Elizabeth had been so sure of Mr Darcy’s disapproval and disinterest, why had she not turned on her heel and left as soon as she entered Mrs Bevan’s sitting room and saw him standing there?
Or when he expressed incredulity that she was capable of being a companion?
Or when he appeared to be constantly looking away as she talked?
Elizabeth supposed it was because she, too, was proud in her own way.
She had not wanted to give Mr Darcy the satisfaction of declining her services so summarily, of disdaining her even for a position of social subordination.
She would rather be rejected after a full interview and on fair grounds, or even be offered the role and decline it herself.
It was young Georgiana Darcy’s arrival that seemed to tip the scales for both Mr Darcy and Elizabeth.
In quick succession, Elizabeth was suddenly offered the role and then found herself accepting it.
Even in the same house as Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, living with Miss Darcy and keeping her company could not be so very hard.
Georgiana Darcy was a sweet girl with the same dark hair and midnight-blue eyes as her brother, although her temperament showed a shy appeal of her own rather than the Darcy arrogance.
She was not at all as George Wickham had described her when talking of the Darcy family.
Given the age difference, Elizabeth supposed that Mr Wickham might not know her as well as he had made out.
But Elizabeth knew she could delay no longer before going back, or her companions would think something was wrong. Taking a deep breath and setting her shoulders, she turned to the door.
∞∞∞
As Elizabeth returned to Mrs Bevan’s office, the gentlemen had reached a discussion on accommodation, and Mrs Bevan was reading through what seemed to be an annotated version of the employment contract. The door was still open, and Elizabeth’s footfall was soft enough that none of them turned.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet would, of course, have a small private sitting room at Darcy House, in addition to her bedroom,” said Mr Darcy, his tone measured and respectful.
“You and Mrs Gardiner would be very welcome to call, Mr Gardiner, as would Miss Jane Bennet, while she is in London. My sister would be pleased to offer your wife and niece hospitality if I am not at home.”
“That is very kind, Mr Darcy,” Mr Gardiner said with a firm nod, his expression reasonably contented.
“My niece is an extremely capable young person, but has never lived apart from her family. My wife would certainly feel bound to visit from time to time. Are you often away from London, sir? Or do you reside mainly at Darcy House?”
“I am usually at Darcy House or Pemberley, my family estate in Derbyshire,” Mr Darcy explained civilly.
“Rest assured that whether I am there or not, I have very capable and experienced housekeepers residing at both properties: Mrs Reynolds at Pemberley, and Mrs Stark at Darcy House. If Miss Bennet requires advice or support on any practical matter, she may always call on them.”
“I am glad to hear that,” noted Mr Gardiner approvingly. “I feel I can reassure Elizabeth’s parents on all points.”
“If Mr Bennet should wish to write to me, I am at his disposal,” added Mr Darcy, his politeness and civility to her uncle raising Elizabeth’s eyebrow.
From what she had seen in Hertfordshire, she would have expected brusqueness, hauteur and frigidity in Mr Darcy’s business dealings, especially with a well-to-do merchant like her uncle, whom Mr Darcy must consider far below his own station.
Instead, she saw a reasonable and courteous gentleman who treated both Mr Gardiner and Mrs Bevan with respect, and his own sister with affection.
Giving a quiet cough, Elizabeth now stepped into the room and approached the desk again, drawing the attention of the room’s three other occupants.
“Ah, Miss Bennet, there you are,” said Mrs Bevan cheerfully.
“Everything seems to be in order, you will be glad to hear. I shall have my secretary make clean copies of this contract for all of us to take away. Mr Darcy and Mr Gardiner will wish to consult their own lawyers, and then you may all sign.”
“Thank you, Mrs Bevan,” said Elizabeth as Mr Darcy and Mr Gardiner stood up and shook hands in an amicable fashion.
“Well, Lizzy, as everything is settled, we should get you back to Gracechurch Street,” Mr Gardiner said. “Your aunt will be waiting for us.”
Elizabeth nodded and dropped a small curtsy to both Mrs Bevan and Mr Darcy.
“I shall just take my leave of Miss Darcy, Uncle,” she told him and went to the sitting room where Georgiana Darcy now sat over an empty teacup, her face expectant as the door opened.
“We are going now, Miss Darcy, but I believe that Mrs Bevan has arranged everything with your brother and my uncle. We should see each other again before too long.”
“Oh, you will come soon, won’t you?” responded Miss Darcy eagerly, standing and taking Elizabeth’s hands in her own. “It will be so good to have a friend in the house again.”
“Miss Bennet will come to Darcy House at her convenience, Georgiana,” said Mr Darcy’s voice at Elizabeth’s shoulder, his tone kindly but still chiding her slightly for her impatience. “Packing and moving may take some days.”
“Oh, of course,” acknowledged Georgiana with a small sigh of resignation and her smile drooping. “I quite understand that. You must not inconvenience yourself for my sake, Miss Bennet.”
“I will come soon,” Elizabeth promised, glad to see the light come back into the girl’s eyes.
Turning her head, she saw the same light in Mr Darcy’s eyes. She smiled a little to herself, pleased both for Georgiana Darcy’s sake and for the sake of Mr Darcy’s own character by the devotion that must have sparked it.
∞∞∞
As the Gardiner’s carriage pulled away, Elizabeth let out a short laugh of relief and satisfaction.
“That went well, Uncle, but I am so glad that it is over!” she exclaimed. “How nervous I was the entire time.”
“I do not believe that either Mr Darcy nor Mrs Bevan noticed your nervousness, and Miss Darcy liked you immediately. You did very well indeed,” her uncle said, and then paused, stroking his chin in thought. “Strange, isn’t it, that they should be called Darcy.”
“Is it?” Elizabeth asked, not immediately grasping what he meant.
Then Elizabeth recalled that her uncle and aunt had never met Mr Darcy in Hertfordshire. Perhaps Mr Gardiner remained entirely ignorant of her own previous acquaintance with her new employer. She supposed that Mrs Bevan was still in the dark, unless Mr Darcy had enlightened her.
“Wasn’t that the same name as the unsociable and haughty man we heard so much about in Hertfordshire?” her uncle asked before Elizabeth could begin to explain.
“It was not just the same name, it was the same man,” she confessed with a rueful expression. “I did not know what to make of it, Uncle. Mr Darcy’s manner was an even greater surprise to me today than his appearance at all.”
Mr Gardiner laughed aloud at this development.
“Well, well, well,” he chuckled. “Some people are very different in company than in their private lives. I suppose that Mr Darcy must be one of them. Still, as he privately appears to be a most respectable, honourable and civil gentleman, I have no qualms about you taking this job over any other. If it were the other way around, we ought to think twice.”
“Yes, it would be far more suspicious to appear amiable in company and then become a cruel tyrant in your domestic affairs, wouldn’t it?” Elizabeth agreed. “I believe I can get along well enough with Mr Darcy, and I am sure I shall be good friends with Miss Darcy.”
“I do not doubt it,” said her uncle. “If this is truly the course you wish to take in life, you will excel, Lizzy.”
“Ah, now you sound like Jane,” Elizabeth told him with a smile. “You wish me well but doubt my wisdom, is not that so?”
Mr Gardiner shrugged and smiled back at her thoughtfully.
“Working for a living is not an easy life, Lizzy,” he told her. “If I seem to have reservations, it is only that I do not want to see you struggle.”
Elizabeth took her uncle’s hand and squeezed it, her resolve only hardening with his well-intended warning.
“Do not worry about me, Uncle. All will be well. You will see.”
Despite her age, her limited experience, and the mad coincidence of finding herself face-to-face with Mr Darcy, Elizabeth had won her first working role. Now she intended to excel in it, no matter what.