Chapter 6
After a good night’s sleep at the Gardiner’s residence, the Bennets’ first stop was at Hatchards Booksellers on Piccadilly.
Elizabeth ran her fingers along the spine of a beautifully tooled leather journal; its deep blue surface, embossed with gold arabesques, reminded her of the manuscripts the expedition hoped to discover in Egypt.
The weight felt substantial, worthy of recording her activities over the next several months.
“This one will do perfectly,” she said to her father, who was examining a collection of recent translations from Arabic texts nearby. “It is large enough for detailed observations, yet compact enough for travel.”
“An excellent choice, my dear,” he replied absently, his attention captured by a volume on ancient irrigation systems. “Though I suspect you might fill it twice over before we reach Alexandria and need another one for our return trip.”
Elizabeth smiled, already imagining herself sketching hieroglyphs and recording her impressions of the ancient world. She was so absorbed in examining the journal’s ribbon bookmark that she nearly collided with another customer reaching for a similar volume on the same shelf.
“I beg your pardon―” She stopped short when she recognized the tall, imposing figure of Mr. Darcy.
He had frozen as well. “Miss Bennet. What an unexpected pleasure.”
Elizabeth’s fingers pressed against the journal’s leather binding until her knuckles were likely the same shade as her white lace gloves. Even here, in this sanctuary of books and learning, she could not escape him.
“Mr. Darcy.” Her tone was nothing more than polite.
He held two journals. One was identical to her own choice, while the other was a smaller volume in forest green leather.
“I see you share my appreciation for fine craftsmanship.” He gestured toward her selection.
Elizabeth clutched her journal a bit more possessively. “One can hardly record important discoveries in anything less substantial, though I suppose such pursuits might seem merely tolerable to someone of your elevated tastes.”
“Miss Bennet, I…”
“Papa,” Elizabeth called, deliberately turning away from him. “We should see about having this journal properly wrapped.”
She moved to the shop counter. As the clerk finalized her purchase, Elizabeth caught sight of Mr. Darcy speaking with another shop assistant, gesturing toward a stack of books placed on a table.
She shifted her gaze away, refusing to let curiosity about his preparations spoil her anticipation of the journey ahead.
Egypt awaited with all its mysteries and ancient treasures.
Whatever Mr. Darcy’s own plans might be to reach the same location, they were certainly no concern of hers.
Georgiana Darcy sat at the pianoforte in the morning room of Matlock House, with sheet music scattered across the bench beside her.
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, catching the golden highlights in her hair as her fingers moved gracefully across the keys.
At sixteen, Georgiana possessed her mother’s delicate features and her father’s serious eyes—though in hers there was a shyness, an uncertainty, that made Darcy want to shield her forever.
She looked up as he entered, brightening with pleasure. “Fitzwilliam! I did not expect you until late this afternoon.”
“I finished my business early and could not resist the opportunity to hear you play.” He settled into a chair near the instrument, as she self-consciously adjusted the sheets on her music stand. “That piece is new to me. Is it one of your recent acquisitions?”
“Aunt Helen discovered it at a music shop. She thought I might enjoy the challenge.” Georgiana’s fingers found the keys again, playing a few measures with obvious skill. “Cecilia and Felicity have been encouraging me to attempt more difficult compositions.”
“Ah. Your new friends. How are you finding their company?”
Georgiana’s usual reserve melted away as enthusiasm overtook her natural shyness.
“Fitzwilliam, they are the most delightful companions. Cecilia has a quick wit, and Felicity knows everything about literature and art. Just yesterday, we spent hours in Uncle Hugh’s library discussing poetry.
Neither of them made me feel foolish for my opinions. ”
“I am pleased to hear it.” Darcy smiled at the animation in her voice. Since the dreadful business with Wickham at Ramsgate the previous summer, Georgiana’s loss of confidence in her own judgment had made her hesitant to form new friendships. “Tell me more about these remarkable young ladies.”
“Aunt Helen says they are perfectly well-bred with the most elegant manners. They are both accomplished on the pianoforte, though in different ways. Cecilia prefers lively country dances, while Felicity plays more complex sonatas.”
Georgiana set her music aside and sat next to him on the settee.
“They have invited me to join them for so many wonderful activities this summer. Garden parties at their family estates, visits to the theater, expeditions to Somerset House and the British Museum. Cecilia’s mother has even suggested we might attend an evening at Vauxhall with their family.
Brother, I know that you would be most welcome to join us. ”
Her joy made it all the more difficult for Darcy to tell her his news. “Georgiana, I am delighted that your friendship with these young ladies has grown so quickly. However, I must speak with you about a matter that will affect our plans for the coming months.”
Her smile faltered, the way it did when she braced for unwelcome news. “What is it, Fitzwilliam? Do we leave for Pemberley?”
“No, this is different. I have accepted an invitation to join an expedition to the Mediterranean in search of manuscripts from the lost Library of Alexandria.”
Georgiana stilled. Her mouth gaped. “For how long?”
“Several months, or longer, depending on what we discover. We depart within days.”
Georgiana studied her fingernails. “Then I shall cancel my appointments with Cecilia and Felicity.”
Darcy was firm, though gentle. “Georgiana, you must understand that I could never permit you to undertake such a journey. The dangers are considerable for a lady. I need to know that you are safe here in England with Richard’s parents.”
Relief rippled across her features before she caught herself. “Of course. I understand completely. I shall miss you dreadfully.”
“And I you, dearest Sister.” He reached into his coat and withdrew the smaller forest-green journal he had purchased at Hatchards. “Which is why I hoped you might do me a great favor.”
She accepted the book, running her fingers over the supple binding. “It is beautiful.”
“I would like you to record your activities and impressions while I am away—your outings with your friends, your thoughts on the books you read, and your observations about London Society. When I return, I shall read every word and feel as though I shared in your experiences.”
Her whole manner brightened as she opened the journal to examine the cream-colored pages within. “What a lovely idea! But what of your own adventures? Surely you will have far more interesting experiences than the quiet activities I will write about in my journal.”
“I shall do the same, documenting everything we see and discover. When I return, we can share our journals and compare.”
“I should like that above all things.” Georgiana clutched her book to her chest. “But it sounds alarmingly dangerous. I shall worry about you constantly. Will you be well protected?”
Darcy’s mouth quirked upward. “Richard will be at my side. Between his expertise and my natural caution, I expect us to manage tolerably well.”
“Our cousin is accompanying you? That provides some comfort, though now I shall fear for his safety, too.”
She studied him with a penetrating gaze that reminded him so forcefully of their father. “This seems so…out of character for you, Brother. What is it in particular that is drawing you to this venture?”
“The scholarly opportunities are genuine, and Professor Drye’s research is compelling,” Darcy said. “Sometimes, Georgiana, a man must test himself against challenges beyond the familiar routines of his daily habits.”
She nodded solemnly, though she seemed to sense that there was more to his motivation than he had revealed. “Then I will pray for your safe return―both you and Richard―and fill this journal with such entertaining accounts that you will never regret leaving me behind.”
“I shall hold you to that promise. It gives me great peace to know you will be cared for while I am away.” He stood and moved to a side table where he had left a wrapped package. “I brought you a gift to keep you occupied in my absence.”
Georgiana untied the brown paper to reveal a stack of novels, their spines bearing exotic titles like The Italian Count, A Sicilian Rose, The Greek Captive, The Ottoman Jewel, and The Arabian Knight. “Are these for me?”
“The clerk at Hatchards assured me they are perfectly suitable for a young lady of your age. I thought they might serve to remind you of your brother’s travels without exposing you to any actual danger.”
She laughed, the sound music to his ears. “You think of everything. I shall read them all and imagine you encountering similar romance on your way to Egypt.
Romance. The word struck him with unexpected force. Georgiana could not know how accurately she had identified the real reason he was going on this journey.
“Will you write to me?” she asked. “Even if letters take months to reach England?”
“At every opportunity. I want to know that you are not merely safe, but genuinely happy.”
Georgiana rose and embraced him, a gesture she had not made for years. “I love you dearly, Brother. Promise me that you will be careful.”
“I promise to be as careful as circumstances allow.” He held her close, struck by how fragile she felt in his arms. She was still so young, so trusting, despite the harsh lesson Wickham taught her about the world’s capacity for deception.
Should I not return from this journey, Georgiana will be the sole surviving Darcy.
The thought chilled him. Pemberley and all its responsibilities would fall on her slender shoulders.
He had already spoken with their uncle, Lord Matlock, designating him as guardian should the worst befall him and Richard. He accepted the position readily.
“Georgiana,” he said. “You know that Uncle Hugh and Aunt Helen care for you?”
“Of course. They have been nothing but kind to me.”
“Should anything unexpected occur during my absence, you must remember that you are not alone. They will always be there to guide you until my return.”
She pulled back to look at him, concern clouding her features. “Fitzwilliam, you are frightening me. What dangers do you expect?”
“None that cannot be overcome with proper caution.” He forced a reassuring smile. “I merely want you to know that you are surrounded by people who love you, whatever the future may bring.”
Just as I would never permit Georgiana to undertake such a journey, I wish Elizabeth would remain safely on English soil.
The parallel struck him with uncomfortable clarity.
Both women were precious to him, though in vastly different ways.
But now, since Georgiana was free to flourish under the Matlocks’ careful watch, he could focus his complete attention on Elizabeth.
He could not bear the thought that she would be without someone who truly cared for her welfare close at hand if he had not chosen to go.
“I shall count the days until your return.” Georgiana settled back on the settee with her journal. “And I shall fill every page with such detailed accounts that you will feel you never left London at all.”
“That would be the greatest gift you could give to me.”
A surge of freedom rose in him. He would pursue what he wanted most. Elizabeth’s affection. To gain that prize, he would show her the man he was beneath the pride that had wounded her. He would court her properly. He would prove himself worthy of the most remarkable woman he had ever known.