Chapter 22
Darcy took out his pocket watch and observed the movement of the hands, the seconds ticking away rapidly while the minutes moved slowly and the hours imperceptibly. They had been a full day and night on the road. As the second day advanced towards evening, they were finally approaching London.
Beside him, Georgiana dozed, her head comfortably resting against Darcy’s shoulder. Elizabeth Bennet had also fallen asleep in the corner of the opposite seat, her head against the coach wall.
Looking at her pale and worn face and feeling the rocking of the coach, Darcy wished he could put a cushion at her shoulder for greater comfort, but this would only disturb her and was also somewhat beyond propriety.
He could see that Elizabeth was exhausted despite taking rooms at an inn on the road overnight.
“Are we nearly there?” Georgiana asked sleepily, opening her eyes and raising her head.
“Not far,” Darcy whispered back, putting a finger to his lips and nodding to Elizabeth. “We should be at Darcy House within the hour.”
His sister nodded, her face serious.
“Poor Elizabeth,” she whispered back to him. “She must be so worried. I do not believe she has slept properly since we left Pemberley. Her candle at the inn was burned down to nothing this morning.”
Darcy did not correct his sister’s use of her companion’s first name. It seemed petty under the circumstances, and it was also a name he liked to hear.
“Yes, I can see,” he responded softly.
“I am glad you are helping Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana said after a few moments further thought. “I should not like to think of her facing such unhappiness and difficulty alone.”
“Nor should I,” Darcy agreed. “I am glad too that Bingley will be back in Hertfordshire tonight and able to offer what assistance or comfort he can to Miss Bennet and her family.”
Bingley had accompanied them most of the distance from Derbyshire before hiring a horse and riding for Longbourn at the last staging post.
On the seat opposite, Elizabeth Bennet stirred and opened her eyes.
“Do you know the time, Mr Darcy?” she asked him anxiously. “Are we close to London?”
“We will sleep at Darcy House tonight and go to Brighton in the morning,” he said as reassuringly as he could.
Elizabeth nodded but bit her lip, some immediate question on her mind.
“Are you sure you would not prefer me to go to Gracechurch Street, Mr Darcy?” she asked him quietly. “It might be sensible.”
Sensible? Darcy was baffled by the suggestion, seeing no logic in it at all.
Trying to communicate what was in her head, Elizabeth’s eyes slid discreetly to Georgiana and back again. After a moment, Darcy understood. She was tactfully offering Darcy the chance to distance himself and Georgiana from the Bennet family’s impending disgrace.
“If you would feel more comfortable with your relatives at Gracechurch Street, then you should certainly go there,” Darcy told her. “Georgiana, however, would miss you, and I have no wish to deprive my sister of her companion.”
“You are too kind, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth responded, sending a brief smile to Georgiana, who had tensed at the mention of Elizabeth potentially leaving them. “I should naturally prefer to keep Georgiana company.”
“Good, then it is settled that we shall all be at Darcy House tonight. Tomorrow, I stand ready to assist you in Brighton, in whatever way I can.”
“Thank you, Mr Darcy,” she said quietly after a short pause. “I had not expected anyone’s help, although I am glad of it, for my family’s sake as well as my own. I only hope that you will not come to regret your kindness.”
Darcy shook his head, not wishing his support to even be in question in this matter. Nor could he tell Elizabeth that he was motivated most deeply by her personal wellbeing, rather than that of her family.
In truth, Darcy’s strength of feeling had surprised him as much as it had Elizabeth.
Seeing her distress pained him. Learning the cause of this distress had both raised his already considerable animus against Wickham, while strengthening every positive feeling he had ever experienced towards Elizabeth.
When he saw that tear on her cheek in the gardens at Pemberley, he had longed to take her in his arms…
“Do not think of it,” Darcy told Elizabeth and turned to look out of the window in case he found himself caught in her fine, bright eyes and saying something they might both have cause to regret.
During their journey, Darcy had wrestled repeatedly with the urge to declare his love and propose, restraining himself only with strict self-discipline and recall of his duties.
As well as their unequal positions as employer and companion, he knew that Elizabeth’s present distress was an unsurmountable vulnerability that only a villain would seek advantage from.
Many months ago, when Darcy first found himself attracted to Elizabeth Bennet, he had not acted on his impulses due to her disadvantageous social position: her lack of fortune and connections, and still more, the dubious manners and sense of her closest family members.
Yet somehow none of this seemed to matter anymore, even if Lydia Bennet did take to the stage.
Without him quite knowing when or how, his feelings had gradually undergone such a change that he could scarcely understand his former hesitations. Darcy now held back only from propriety, from concern for her feelings, and because he feared losing her.
∞∞∞
Mrs Stark and Mr Soames had been ready for their arrival at Darcy House, having received both of the short express messages Darcy sent ahead with information on their progress. A light supper was ready for the party within the hour, and warm baths drawn before bed.
Both the housekeeper and butler were discreet enough not to ask for further details of the urgency with which they travelled. Darcy said merely that the Bennet family had experienced some crisis, the only effect of which was a pleasing extra consideration towards Elizabeth.
After writing briefly to his agent to ensure that fast payments could be made in Brighton if necessary, to buy Lydia out from any contract or supposed obligation, Darcy emerged from his study as Georgiana and Elizabeth were walking upstairs to bed together.
“Do not worry, Miss Bennet,” urged Georgiana, both ladies oblivious to his presence around the corner of the hallway staircase. “No matter how bad the situation seems now, I am sure that my brother can resolve it. He always can.”
His sister’s naive reassurance was both touching and worrying. From his present position and in candlelight, Darcy could see nothing of Elizabeth’s expression to know how she had received it. Grimly, Darcy only hoped that Georgiana’s trust in his powers was not misplaced.