Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Darcy sipped his coffee and lingered over yesterday’s newspaper, nodding to a footman who set a pot of fresh hot coffee next to him and left the room.
He had done what he had come to do in Hertfordshire, and it was past time for him to return to London and from thence remove to Pemberley.
He had sent Thompson back to London. Galbraith had kept him informed as to the progress of the charitable society.
Bingley had attended services the day its completion was announced.
Elizabeth had finished her work and was presumably safe from harm.
Wickham was in prison, and those young drunkards Darcy had overheard at the club had not been seen in Hertfordshire.
If indeed any of them had had the gumption to seek the ‘heiress’, they were likely bumbling around somewhere in Herefordshire searching for a hayfield.
He did not want Elizabeth to know that he had been acting on her behalf nor that he was close by. Curiously, though aware his mission was ended, he could not bring himself to leave her proximity.
Then suddenly, there she was, on the threshold of the breakfast room, flushed and slightly out of breath, her hair falling out of its pins and her petticoats muddied; her brightened eyes fixed on him.
He stood abruptly; his chair fell backwards onto the floor with a clatter, and the newspaper dropped in a scattering of paper sheets.
“Miss Bennet!” He stared at her for a moment, then belatedly bowed.
She curtseyed. “Mr Darcy.”
The courtesies having been exchanged, there was an uncomfortable pause, neither of them quite knowing what to say.
Elizabeth stepped into the room. “Mr Darcy, I wish to apologise—”
“Miss Bennet, I beg your—”
They spoke over each other and stopped. A few seconds’ silence and then…
“My behaviour was unpardonable—”
“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry—”
It had happened again. Darcy lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Elizabeth huffed, then held up one hand.
“The third time is the charm, sir,” she said. “May I?”
He smiled slightly and gestured for her to continue.
She moved a little farther into the room.
“Mr Darcy, I wish to apologise for my behaviour the last time we spoke. I am mortified by my own credulousness, my lack of discernment and mistaken belief in Mr Wickham’s lies.
” As she spoke, she looked down and away.
“The recollection of my conduct and my words is extremely painful to me. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.” When she finished, she looked up at him.
Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were red-rimmed.
Darcy was struck with regret. He had wanted happiness in marriage, but he had only given them both pain.
He took a step towards her. “What did you say that I did not deserve? I cannot so easily be reconciled to myself. Your words have tortured me because there was truth in them. How could a man who spoke so disrespectfully to a lady call himself a gentleman? It is I who must apologise.”
They stood there for several long, silent minutes, in the middle of the breakfast room, staring at each other.
Breaking the silence, Elizabeth stepped forwards. “It was you, was it not?”
Feeling himself flush, Darcy nodded slightly and stepped towards her. “Yes, it was.”
“How did you know?”
“About Mr Goulding’s will? After spending weeks alone in my home feeling sorry for myself, I needed a change of scene.
I went to sit alone at my club and feel sorry for myself there,” he said drily.
“While there I overheard the conversation of a collection of spoilt, idle young men, deeply in their cups, speaking of some gossip about a young lady in Herefordshire who inherited an estate and a fortune from a sick old man. The town they thought was Merton, and the estate was called hay something. I remembered Haye-Park, and I knew Mr Goulding was deathly ill. The similarity of the names was alarming, and the disrespectful way they spoke of the lady in question was sickening. I feared for you.”
Elizabeth groaned. “The gossip spread quickly and became grossly exaggerated. When I discovered it had travelled all the way to Brighton, I assumed it had reached London as well.”
Darcy nodded slightly. “I sent a man to Meryton whom I had occasionally employed in the past as an investigator. He reported that the estate in question was indeed Haye-Park and that the general belief was that you had inherited all of Mr Goulding’s property.
I hired him to stay in Meryton to keep me informed. ”
“So, when I needed information about charitable societies, you sent some. When Mr Wickham became a threat to my safety, you purchased his debts and had him taken away. You sent a replacement steward before my uncle’s advertisement had been published. All quite anonymously.”
Darcy reached out to touch her arm but then pulled his hand back, feeling uncertain as they faced each other. “You were so angry about my interference with Bingley that I was concerned that you would be affronted if you knew I was acting to assist and protect you.”
Elizabeth frowned slightly. “I might have been. I can be stubborn that way. I might have been resentful if I had not already changed my mind about you.” She smiled slightly. “You are protective of your friends and family.”
Of those I love, he thought, not quite confident enough to say the words aloud. Then he understood her meaning.
“You changed your mind about me?” he blurted.
“I did. It was your letter that put me on the path to better understanding of you and of myself.” She looked away. “I almost did not read it.”
“Why did you read it?”
“I do not know if I can explain it. I was shocked when you gave it to me. After a short bout of self-righteous affront, I realised that a stickler such as yourself would not risk propriety unless you had something important to say. And,” she continued with a wry smile, “I was overcome by curiosity. I suppose it is a character flaw of mine, one among many.”
As Darcy absorbed this information, Elizabeth took another step towards him. “Your letter freed me from any misconceptions I had about Mr Wickham. When he later tried to take advantage of me, I was prepared.”
Darcy’s head came up sharply. “What did he do?” he demanded harshly, stepping towards her.
Elizabeth described Wickham’s desertion and return to Meryton, his attempt to charm and then seize her, and his later effort to take Lydia.
Darcy closed his eyes and murmured, “Thank God you are well. I do not know what I would have done if…”
In the awkward silence that followed, Elizabeth spoke. “How is your sister?” she asked quietly.
He could hear the care and concern in her voice.
Opening his eyes, he could see it on her face.
“She has overcome her heartbreak, yet her self-possession has not recovered. Her companion, whom I hired upon our return from Ramsgate, has been good for her, but it will be some time before she has any confidence in her own judgment.”
“I hope you are in no hurry for her debut,” Elizabeth said. “I imagine Miss Darcy of Pemberley will need a strong sense of assurance in her perception of others. Mr Wickham is certainly not the only scoundrel she will encounter.”
Darcy grimaced. “I have never believed in adhering to a fixed schedule of when a young lady should come out in society. I have witnessed any number of ladies who were forced out too young, and as a result made foolish choices. I have promised Georgiana that she can determine her own readiness, with the assistance of her companion, Mrs Annesley.”
“That is indeed wise.”
“And your sister? Is she recovering?” Darcy asked.
It was Elizabeth’s turn to grimace. “Let us say that her self-confidence did not suffer. She was only angry, very angry, first that she was caught and then when Wickham savaged her reputation in the presence of our entire household. My father took her to London and placed her into the care of a strict governess.”
They stood close enough to reach out and touch one another, yet they did not.
“I thank you for your assistance,” Elizabeth said.
“You did not need it,” he replied. “You did the research. You organised what you learnt and made recommendations. You presented your findings to Mr Philips, and the Goulding Community Assistance Society was born.”
“You kept watch over me,” she reminded him.
He barked a laugh. “As did your uncle and your footman.”
“You cared for my welfare,” she insisted gently. “That is enough.”
His hand came up to touch her, and this time he did not snatch it back. He touched her forearm with one finger, a light, gossamer touch. Darcy cleared his throat. “My affections and wishes are unchanged.”
Elizabeth’s wide eyes met his, and he watched her inhale sharply.
“Perhaps yours are also unchanged, and you do not wish to have this conversation with me. Yet I beg you would allow me to call on you, to spend time with you, so that we may become truly familiar with each other.” He looked at the floor. “I have made so many mistakes during our acquaintance.”
“As have I,” Elizabeth said softly. “My sentiments have changed. I have changed, I hope for the better.” She smiled when he looked at her. “Yes, you may call, Mr Darcy.”
The profound joy and relief he felt almost overwhelmed him. He felt a rush of air from his lungs, as if he had been holding his breath for a very long time.
“I shall have to ask Bingley if I can further impose upon his hospitality,” he said, as an idea struck him. “Or perhaps an even further imposition. There is one more person who wishes to be particularly known to you. I wish to introduce my sister to your acquaintance.”
“You would bring her to Netherfield? Are you sure you want her exposed to my family?” she asked, sounding teasing, although perhaps she was not, not entirely.
“Your family is, er, quite lively. Georgiana is doing well, but perhaps a little exposure to some ebullience would be good for her. We are both too prone to solemnity.” He nodded decisively.
“Georgiana can come with Mrs Annesley, and a second carriage will be required for my groom and valet, who can bring a trunk for me.”
“Goodness, sir, you have indeed been roughing it!” cried Elizabeth, her eyes moving around the elegant breakfast room. “No valet, no groom, no evening clothes, no carriage. How have you endured?”
Darcy looked askance at her and chose not to answer. “It will all need to wait until I have spoken to Bingley.”
“Who at this moment is likely to be at Longbourn,” Elizabeth reminded him.
At that, he took her hand. “Then to Longbourn we must go. Are you capable of another long walk? Or shall I take you up on my horse?”
Elizabeth shuddered theatrically. “A walk will suffice. Perhaps I might take a moment to repair my appearance? Otherwise, I will look twice as dishevelled when we arrive there.”
“If you must.” He lowered his head and whispered in her ear, “I like you dishevelled, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth blushed to the roots of her hair yet managed to answer, “My mother would be scandalised.”