Chapter 6
Darcy sat gingerly on the side of his bed, waiting for the dizziness to subside.
The putrid throat that had sent him back under the covers for the last three days was gone.
His limbs felt unsteady, but at least the room did not swim around him anymore.
He considered that a victory. It meant he was on the road to recovery.
Thank heavens! If nothing else, he would be free of the nightmares. Febrile visions of drowning in a murky river. Or of failing to rescue a young mother and her child. Of water that had frozen and trapped him.
Though not all the dreams had been unpleasant. Some had been more pleasant than they ought to be. He blushed as he recalled some of the fervent kisses he had exchanged with that same young lady, ashamed at how easily his illness had overcome his detachment.
Even now, when he was fully aware, her face floated before him, her fine dark eyes intense and purposeful.
“I am concerned for you, sir.” The words echoed in his mind. How long had it been since anyone had said something like that to him? It touched something that had been buried in a place deep inside him.
It reminded him of the weight of his responsibility, of how many people he concerned himself about, whether it was his sister or his tenants.
But apart from his staff, who were paid to take care of his every comfort, no one since he was a small child had ever showed concern for him.
It did not mean no one cared about him, naturally, it is just that everyone assumed he could take care of himself.
He had not seen anything wrong in that until the moment the young lady had uttered that sentence.
Was he really so above everyone else, that no one considered for a moment that he could have weaknesses, that he had been struggling to hold his head above water, knowing that if he sank, he would bring everything tumbling down around him.
It was a terrible burden to carry, and somehow, her careless words – not meant to convey any deep feelings, of course -- had tossed him into confusion.
She had not known who he was at the time. She did not speak to him as the master of Pemberley or as a Darcy of Derbyshire. The words were not intended as flattery, just a simple statement of fact.
Enough! She was a married woman. It was absurd to give her a moment’s thought. He stood up too quickly and for a moment he thought he might have to return to bed. But, to his relief, the dizziness subsided.
He joined Georgiana at breakfast. Unfortunately, the butler, thinking he was doing him a favor, brought him a pile of correspondence to sift through.
He looked through it, not at all sure he was up to dealing with it.
He recognized most of the addresses immediately.
It was all tedious estate business in any case.
He would have to look at everything later in the library.
He was about to return the whole pile to the tray when a letter dropped onto the table. The seal was unfamiliar, and it drew his attention.
“Mr. Gardiner?” he said, aloud. “I wonder who that is.”
He shrugged and was about to add it to the other when Georgiana looked up from her plate.
“Mr. Gardiner? Oh, that must be little Maggie’s father. Oh, what does he say? Could you read it to me?”
Mr. Gardiner? The husband of the young lady who had dwelled in his dreams? All the more reason not to read it.
“I would rather not spend breakfast reading a letter from a complete stranger,” said Darcy.
“I would like to know if Maggie and her mother are doing well," insisted Georgiana. "What if they both became ill like you did?”
The disappointment in Georgiana’s face made him feel guilty.
He did not have to indulge her every whim, just because they were spending precious time together, but she was very interested in the matter, and Darcy had no idea what the letter held.
And now that Georgiana had mentioned it, he, too, worried about their health.
He sighed. “Very well, Georgie. I can see you are dying of curiosity to know what he wrote.”
Georgiana beamed, stood up, and came to look over his shoulder as he read it. Her presence disconcerted him. Perhaps he ought to read it privately before he exposed Georgiana to its contents. What if something terrible had happened?
“Give me a minute to read it first, Georgie. Why don’t you sit over there?” He indicated the armchair with the tall back where he liked to sit when he was indulging himself in an enjoyable book. Georgie settled in quickly, folding her hands primly in her lap.
He turned over the letter. It was written on fine paper, top quality, matching Darcy’s own type of paper.
The penmanship was even and strong. So far, he could not fault anything about Mr. Gardiner.
The fact that he wanted to find fault was strange in itself.
Why did he want to think of Margaret’s father as inferior, somehow?
Why was he so easily thrown off balance this morning, both literally and metaphorically?
“How long must I wait?” said Georgiana. “Will you read it aloud, William?”
“I will, but I warn you, if I find anything I do not think you should hear, I will stop.”
“Of course,” she said, training her eyes on him. “Though I cannot imagine what that could be.”
Dear Mr. Darcy,
First, allow me to express my heartfelt thanks for the service you rendered my daughter Margaret. We owe you a debt of gratitude for saving Margaret’s life. There is no way to put into words the feelings that such a selfless act invoked in both my wife and myself.
Darcy was not particularly interested in the shared feelings of husband and wife.
He had deliberately declined to know anything about the young woman he had met in the park.
Why must he be reading this letter now? If it were not for Georgiana, he would crumple the letter into a ball and throw it into the fire.
But Georgiana was waiting expectantly, and he had no choice but to continue reading.
My niece Elizabeth has given us a full account of what happened in Hyde Park—
Darcy blinked and stopped in confusion.
His surprise was echoed in Georgiana’s face. “His niece? What does he mean? William, I do not understand.”
“Neither do I,” said Darcy. The air in the room had suddenly thickened, and he felt breathless. “Let me continue reading so we can clarify the matter.”
Inexplicably, his hand was slightly unsteady when he picked up the letter again.
My niece has given us a full account of what happened in Hyde Park especially of the heroic way you jumped into the Serpentine without regard for your own safety, despite the risk of plunging into water at this time of the year.
Darcy’s thoughts were racing. Who was this niece of his? Had she been a witness at the park? Or, heaven forbid, did Mr. Gardiner mean that the young woman he had carried in his arms was not married, and Margaret was not her daughter. No, it could not be.
Moreover, she has particularly expressed her appreciation for your kindness in receiving them both into your house, your generosity and your concern for their wellbeing on such a trying occasion.
It is not my intention by writing to impose upon you.
In fact, my niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, is of the opinion that a visit from us would not be welcome, because of the difference in our social spheres.
Naturally, I will respect your wishes, if that is your preference.
You need only ignore this letter, and your message will be understood.
If that is the case, in lieu of thanking you in person, I hope you will allow me to send a token of appreciation in the form of some special lace one of my clients has brought back from Brussels.
It is of the highest quality in England.
I hope your sister Miss Darcy would be willing to accept it.
It is only a token, of course, but at least I can offer it as an expression of our gratitude for your noble deed. ”
Meanwhile, we will also be returning the dress Miss Darcy kindly lent to my niece, and all the other items of clothing that were borrowed.
With our sincerest thanks, I remain forever at your service.
Edward Gardiner
Darcy stared at the letter in disbelief. How could he have made such a fundamental error? When did he assume that the young lady was a mother?
“I cannot believe it!” he exclaimed, coming to his feet and going to the window.
This is what happened when one did not follow social conventions. If he had done the usual thing and asked for an introduction, then he would have known that she was not married, and he would have had his guard up.
He turned to his sister. “Did you know the young lady was not the child’s mother?”
“I did not. Everything happened at once, I did not stop to think about it, but I remember now that Margaret said she was six, and the lady we thought was her mother could not be more than twenty.”
Darcy nodded. He had noticed it, too, but why had he not put two and two together? Then again, why should he? At first his main concern was rescuing the little girl, then keeping both her and the young lady warm, then ensuring that he and the others did not fall ill.
“Well then, there you have your answer. Miss Bennet is safe, and so is her cousin Margaret.”
Georgiana beamed. “Yes. And I am very relieved to hear it. Shall we write and tell them we would be happy to receive them? They have been waiting three days now to receive a response. You had better tell them you were ill, but you are fully recovered.”
Now that he knew Miss Bennet was unmarried, he had even less intention of pursuing the acquaintance. She may not be someone’s wife, but it did not make Miss Bennet any more suitable for him.
Even if he kept remembering how it felt to hold her in his arms.
He wrestled with himself. He wanted to write back, but his mind told him that it was foolhardy to encourage anything more.
His mind won.
“I will not be writing to them.”