Chapter 6
SIX
Swarkestone Bridge remained impassable for the next three weeks, and many of the surrounding roads were busy with travellers searching for another crossing.
The young errand-boy who was initially entrusted with a note to the Langfords earned a great deal more money from Mr Darcy and the Gardiners.
Each day he made the soggy journey to deliver notes forwarded on from the Cross Keys inn.
Jane’s letter came first, full of alarm at the disruption to their tour.
In her reply, Elizabeth reassured her that the Gardiners had found suitable accommodation—she did not dare name Mr Darcy’s involvement, for fear of her mother’s indiscreet response.
A note came from Miss Darcy. From a conversation with Mr Darcy, Elizabeth learnt of his sister’s gratitude towards herself and her uncle and aunt—although Elizabeth suspected Mr Darcy may have misrepresented the severity of his fall.
Eventually, word arrived from Mr Darcy’s housekeeper, thankful at the news of his safety.
This note took longer to be delivered than the other letters, suggesting that the route to Pemberley was still very much disturbed.
As the land surrounding the Langfords began to dry, Mr Darcy’s servant Samuels—now recovered from his illness—braved the journey in Mr Darcy’s carriage, bringing reports of coaches becoming stuck, and of wheels breaking on stones concealed under the mud.
It was agreed that Elizabeth and the Gardiners would stay until they could be reassured of a safe return.
No one in Elizabeth’s party minded their prolonged delay.
Although small, the Langfords’ modest house was far more comfortable than many of the other inns Elizabeth had stayed at with the Gardiners on their journey to Derbyshire.
Mrs Langford had a natural pride in her home and took an almost zealous delight in hosting Mr Darcy and his new friends, meaning that all of the bedchambers were kept spotlessly clean, and every meal, though simple, was hearty and delicious.
Their host, Mr Langford, was decidedly quieter than his wife, but he was no less welcoming; each night, he, Mr Gardiner, and Mr Darcy would share stories from their respective lives over a glass of port by the fire.
Elizabeth’s heart warmed at the sight of the easy companionship building between Mr Darcy and her uncle.
As they waited for news of the roads clearing, Elizabeth and the Gardiners profited from the improved weather by taking walks along the paths that encircled the property.
Mr Darcy joined them, much to Elizabeth’s growing delight.
Initially, she told herself that this contentment could be simply explained by the fact that he was evidently no longer suffering any ill effects of his accident, but soon had to concede, even to herself, that his company meant more to her than simple reassurance.
His manner was more than she could ever have expected; attentive and courteous, he escorted her everywhere, acting as her guide, while her uncle and aunt walked some distance in front.
Conversation flowed easily between them, and from his remarks, it was clear that Mr Darcy had misspent many a day walking these same tracks as a youth.
Every so often, he would stop to point out the best trees for climbing, or which fields he had run across to avoid being chased by the cows, painting a picture of a childhood filled with adventure.
There was something about the dry delivery of his ridiculous exploits that transported her into fits of giggles, and she lost count of how many times she laughed until her chest hurt.
Nearly a month after Mr Darcy’s injury, word finally came that carriages were now able to safely cross Swarkestone Bridge, and the roads had returned to the same conditions they were before the bad weather.
Elizabeth received this news with mixed feelings.
To stay with the Langfords would be impossible; Elizabeth had no wish to impose any longer upon their hosts, yet she could not prevent a heavy sadness from descending upon her.
Fate had intervened to throw Mr Darcy—quite literally—in her path, and now that she had spent time in his company, she realised how desperately she longed to learn more of the man she had begun to suspect was the real Mr Darcy, hidden away beneath his reserve.
If only she had known of his kindness, of his thoughtfulness, of his wit.
He, who has every reason to despise me, has treated me and my family with nothing but consideration.
I will miss our conversations—no, more than that, I shall miss him.
Valiantly, she attempted to disguise her disappointment from her aunt, who had come to tell Elizabeth they were now able to continue with their return to Hertfordshire.
“Mr Darcy is with your uncle now.” Mrs Gardiner watched for Elizabeth’s response. “I believe they are having what I would call a robust discussion.”
“Good heavens! Whatever for?” exclaimed Elizabeth. “I thought my uncle liked Mr Darcy’s company.”
“He does,” reassured Mrs Gardiner with a smile. “But both men have claimed the responsibility to settle all accounts, and neither wish to be indebted to the other. It is a question of masculine honour rather than any true argument. My suspicion is that Mr Darcy will be the victor.”
“What gave you that impression?”
Mrs Gardiner affixed Elizabeth a knowing look. “Mr Darcy strikes me as a man who, when his heart is resolved on something, is not easily swayed.”
When Elizabeth did not immediately reply, she added, “Can I confess how much I like him? His behaviour towards us has been all things amiable. I struggle to believe Wickham’s aspersions of Mr Darcy’s character.”
Alarmed, Elizabeth glanced at the door, fearful of who might overhear their conversation.
“Do not mention that name again.” At her aunt’s puzzled look, she continued hastily, “Information, the particulars of which I am not at liberty to disclose, has come to light which casts irrefutable doubt over Wickham’s version of his dealings with Mr Darcy. ”
“How did you come by this intelligence?”
Heat spread up Elizabeth’s neck. “I cannot tell you, for it was disclosed to me in the strictest confidence, but of its veracity, I have complete faith. I ought not to have mentioned it—only, please, do not utter Mr Wickham’s name again, for it will only serve to bring distress to Mr Darcy.”
Her aunt’s eyes creased affectionately. “It appears I am not alone in my estimation for our new acquaintance.”
Elizabeth forced a smile. “No indeed. My opinions of Mr Darcy have undergone so material a change that I freely admit my first impression of him was wrong.”
A knock on the door interrupted their discussion.
It was Mr Gardiner. He looked meaningfully at his wife.
“May I have a word in private, my dear. It is regarding arrangements for the next part of our journey.” He glanced at Elizabeth.
“After I have finished my conversation with your aunt, I would like us all to go for a walk. Mr Darcy is to join us—I trust that is agreeable to you, Elizabeth.”
She blinked away a veil of sadness, knowing that this would probably be the last chance she would have to enjoy Mr Darcy’s company. Heart heavy, Elizabeth forced a smile. “Yes, I would like that very much.”