Chapter 11
Sitting Room
Mrs. Gregson’s House
Ten Minutes Later
“Are you horrified by my decision to run away, Miss Darcy?” Elizabeth asked softly.
Georgiana Darcy’s youthful face was grave, and she shook her head violently.
“No, certainly not!” she said. “I think you are both brave and wise. You would not like Lady Catherine at all. She terrifies me, although I suspect she would only thoroughly annoy you!”
Elizabeth, who had been genuinely concerned, burst into laughter, which caused both Darcy and Mrs. Gregson, who were seated side by side on a settee near the younger ladies, to laugh as well.
“Your brother said much the same thing,” Elizabeth declared when she had recovered enough to speak. “Moreover, while Mr. Collins may well be a decent man, he is incredibly absurd, and I would never marry an absurd man.”
For some reason, Miss Darcy’s eyes shifted to her brother for just a moment, but then she turned back and said, “I am not surprised that he is a fool. My aunt De Bourgh would not permit an intelligent, sensible man who was in the habit of thinking for himself to serve her in any capacity. She is extremely proud and demands everyone beneath her socially to agree with everything she says.”
“And she is disagreeable,” Mrs. Gregson chimed in. “I have only met her twice, but she looked down her long nose at me both times because of my marriage to a mere parson.”
“I liked Mr. Gregson very much,” Georgiana said softly, and Mrs. Gregson smiled fondly and said, “Thank you, my dear. He was the love of my life.”
And Elizabeth, seeing the devotion and longing on her hostess’s face, promised herself that she would never marry a man unless she genuinely adored him.
***
Hookham’s Library
Bond Street
London
Saturday, 21st December 1811
Once, years ago, the Gardiners had taken their most bookish niece to Hookham’s library as a treat. It was one of her fondest memories, and ever since exiting its doors, she had dreamed of returning.
This morning, Mrs. Gregson had kindly offered to accompany Elizabeth to Hookham’s, and she was relieved to discover that the library was much the same as she recalled, with the dark heavy shelves and the smell of leather and ink and paper and the massive fireplace and the comfortable chairs and the magnificent windows in every wall and the deep hush that she usually associated with snow.
Best of all, of course, were the books. Shelf after shelf, row after row, stack after stack of books.
Small books and large books, thick spines and spines so slender the title could barely be written upon them, single books and sets of encyclopedias and dissertations that took up entire shelves and spilled over to the next ones.
The library contained books on every subject under the sun, from sheep shearing to tanning to novels to astronomy to maps of faraway lands.
Then, if the discontented bibliophile could find nothing to tempt her on the shelves, she could repair to the Reading Room, which was kept in excellent condition and well-stocked with all the most recent copies of the newspapers and periodicals.
It was a wonderland for an enthusiastic reader, and Elizabeth was delighted.
Mrs. Gregson had wandered the shelves with her for a short while, but she had soon found a book and, after encouraging her young friend to enjoy herself, had retired to the Reading Room.
Elizabeth was blissfully doing as she had been instructed and paused beside the Gothic novels to browse through them.
An unfamiliar authorial name, and the title above it, caught her eye.
She slid the tan volume from the shelf, curiously opening the cover and flipping to the first page.
So engrossed was she that she did not note the footsteps approaching behind her, until a jarringly familiar and unwelcome voice grated across her nerves.
“Elizabeth Bennet?”
She turned around hastily, the book still in her hands, and her stomach clenched.
“It is you!” Caroline Bingley said in a surprised tone. “I had no idea you were in London!”
Elizabeth’s heart was beating rapidly in her chest, but she managed to retain some semblance of self-control.
Mr. Darcy had told her that Charles’s sisters had not attended Jane’s wedding.
Moreover, Mr. Bennet was pretending that Elizabeth was recovering from scarlet fever at Gracechurch Street.
Based on Miss Bingley’s expression, she had no awareness of Elizabeth’s flight to London to escape an unwanted marriage.
“Yes, I have been here for a while,” she replied and hoped that her tone was more even than her ears said it was. She looked around and said, “This library is amazing, is it not?”
“It is,” Miss Bingley replied, though her eyes were narrowed a trifle, perhaps with suspicion?
At this moment, two ladies entered the tableau, one after the other, and Elizabeth swallowed hard.
Mrs. Hurst, dressed in dark blue velvet, was staring at Elizabeth as she approached, while Mrs. Gregson, a few feet behind Mrs. Hurst, said, “Elizabeth, it is time for us to return home.”
Elizabeth gulped again and said, “Yes, of course, Mrs. Gregson. I, that is…”
Caroline Bingley had turned to inspect the older woman and said, “My dear Elizabeth, would you kindly introduce us?”
There was no way out of it, so Elizabeth said, in as smooth a voice as she could manage, “Mrs. Gregson, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, who are the sisters of Mr. Bingley, Jane’s husband. Ladies, Mrs. Gregson.”
The ladies curtsied, and Miss Bingley said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Gregson. I was just telling Elizabeth that I had no idea she was in London.”
Mrs. Gregson’s jaw clenched briefly, and then she produced a saccharine smile. “Yes, Elizabeth has been kind enough to keep me company for a time. Now, if you will excuse us, we need to return home to prepare for dinner.”
“Of course,” Miss Bingley said with a returning smile. “Of course.”
***
Sitting Room
Gregson House
Later
“Mr. Darcy,” the butler announced.
Darcy stepped into the room where his great-aunt sat alone by the fire, and as soon as the door had closed behind the butler, he said, “I received your message. Whatever is the matter?”
The older woman’s expression was grim, her eyes worried. “Elizabeth and I went to Hookham’s Library this morning, and we encountered Miss Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Louisa Hurst.”
Darcy retreated a step. “No!”
“Yes,” Mrs. Gregson said, rising to her feet. “Now it seems from the discussion that neither lady knew anything about Elizabeth’s flight from Longbourn, so that is a relief, anyway.”
Darcy frowned and then nodded. “That makes sense. Bingley and his wife know, and Mr. Bennet, of course, but they are all keeping the situation quiet at Longbourn. Moreover, Bingley and his bride are at Netherfield Hall, and relations between the brother and his sisters are cool, since neither Miss Bingley nor Mrs. Hurst approved of his marriage.”
Mrs. Gregson blew out a breath of relief and said, “That is good, but Elizabeth is still very upset. She is upstairs packing her trunk.”
“What?!”
“She says she needs to leave immediately, that she cannot risk her father finding her here…”
He shook his head violently. “No, that is not necessary, not at all! How would they possibly find her?”
“At their request, she introduced them to me, so they know my name. She fears that Mr. Bennet will track her down that way. ”
Darcy groaned.
“Sit down, Fitzwilliam, please,” his aunt said, gesturing toward a chair by the fire. “We need to talk about options. I care about Miss Bennet very much, and I do not want her to leave. London is not safe for a lady alone.”
“It is not,” Darcy agreed, obediently taking a chair by the fire. “May I think for a moment?”
“Of course.”
He leaned back and stared into the gyrating flames in the fire. The thought of Elizabeth living unaccompanied in a boarding house, exposed to potential danger, was intolerable. Because he loved her, he loved her so much.
***
Ten Minutes Later
Elizabeth stepped into the sitting room with a pounding heart and a solemn expression.
She did not want to leave this oasis of calm in London, but there was no other reasonable option.
It was her fault that she had addressed Mrs. Gregson by name at the library in front of Charles Bingley’s sisters.
She could not bear to bring any trouble on the older woman who had so kindly welcomed her into her home, and Mr. Bennet had the ability to cause considerable trouble given that Elizabeth was not yet of age.
“Mr. Darcy,” she said in surprise. “I did not realize you were here.”
“My great-aunt sent me an urgent message. I am sorry that you encountered Bingley’s sisters at the library.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard and lifted her chin.
“It is a great pity, but there is no use crying over spilled milk. I hope you do not mind if I stay the night, Mrs. Gregson. There is no possible way my father will learn my location so quickly. But tomorrow I must leave. I can stay in a boarding house, and…”
She trailed off and gulped again because she could not afford months in a boarding house.
“Not a boarding house,” Darcy said firmly. “We will go to Pemberley.”
Mrs. Gregson gasped, and Elizabeth blinked.
“Pemberley?” she repeated softly.
“Yes,” Darcy said and turned toward his great-aunt. “Please, will you not join me and Miss Bennet and Georgiana at Pemberley for the rest of the Christmas Season?”
Elizabeth stared at the gentleman. “You wish for us all to go to Pemberley?”
“Yes,” Darcy said. “You will love it there, Miss Bennet, and you will be safe from Mr. Bennet. No one will cross my threshold without my permission.”
She shook her head in a daze. “But my father could legally require you to return me to him.”
“He will not locate you, Elizabeth,” Mrs. Gregson said firmly.
“Even if Mr. Bennet traces you to this house, he will find it closed and empty save for servants, who can be trusted not to gossip about me to a stranger. Moreover, I have been living quite retired for some years. I doubt he will ever discover that I am Darcy’s great-aunt. ”
Elizabeth could not help the warmth that spread through her chest at these words.
It was true enough that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst might never tell their brother of their meeting with her at the library.
If they did, and Charles told Jane, and Jane told Mr. Bennet, it would still take some time for her father to track down Mrs. Gregson.
And even if he did that, well, there was no reason for Mr. Bennet to guess that his wayward daughter had been whisked off to safety at Pemberley.
“I do not wish to be a burden,” she said softly.
“You are not a burden, not at all,” Mrs. Gregson said with a smile. “I have greatly enjoyed our time together, and I only wonder why I did not ask Darcy sooner if we could go to Pemberley. It is not as if London in winter is particularly enjoyable.”
She felt her lips curve into a smile, and her eyes filled with happy tears. “Then I accept. Thank you.”
“It is my honor,” Mr. Darcy said, his own face alight with pleasure.