Chapter 16
Parlor
Golden Daffodil Inn
An Hour Later
The door opened, and the Gardiners and Georgiana rose quickly to their feet as Fitzwilliam Darcy stepped into the room with Mr. Talbot at his heels.
“Brother?” Miss Darcy asked anxiously.
“They were all found guilty,” Darcy said.
Elizabeth sighed in relief and said, “That is wonderful news.”
“It is,” Mr. Darcy agreed and gestured toward the man who had accompanied him. “Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, this is our barrister, Mr. Talbot. Mr. Talbot, Miss Bennet’s uncle and aunt.”
The men bowed, and Mrs. Gardiner curtsied, and the latter said, “Sit down, please. I daresay you would enjoy some tea.”
Mr. Talbot looked at Darcy, who nodded, and he sat down along with everyone else.
“We are most grateful to you,” Mr. Gardiner said. “You obviously argued most convincingly.”
Talbot said, “Your niece was a great help.”
He turned toward Elizabeth and said, “You did very well, Miss Bennet. You spoke cogently and did not allow Mr. Wickham to ruffle you when he suggested you could not have clearly heard what he and Zimmer said.”
“He certainly ruffled me,” Miss Darcy said with a mournful sigh.
Her brother, who was sitting next to her, kissed her on the cheek and said, “I had forgotten how clever Wickham is in twisting reality, and he did study law for a few months before giving it up. I, too, am most grateful to you, Miss Bennet. I think your testimony was beneficial in persuading Mrs. Younge that she had better cooperate with the prosecution.”
“What will happen to them?” Mrs. Gardiner asked.
“Mrs. Younge and Zimmer will be transported to Australia,” Darcy said. “Wickham will hang tonight.”
Elizabeth bit her lip. It was sobering that a man would soon die, based in part on her testimony. She turned a worried look on Miss Darcy and was relieved to see that the young woman was apparently not distressed by the sentences.
Miss Darcy’s eyes met her own, and the girl said, “I suppose I should not be so calm about a death sentence, but Wickham tried to take me by force, and was perfectly content to ruin my life for his own gain.”
“And even aside from his crimes against your family,” Mrs. Gardiner said, “he is a danger to society. I hope and pray that he makes his peace with God in the next hours, but he deserves death for what he did.”
“Amen,” Elizabeth murmured solemnly.
***
The Golden Daffodil Inn
Monday, 24th June 1811
Two elegant carriages, each emblazoned with the Darcy crest, waited in the cobbled courtyard of the Golden Daffodil Inn, loaded down with luggage.
Everything that the Gardiners and Elizabeth had left at Pemberley had been brought over by servants and packed away into their trunks.
Mr. Darcy and his sister would be returning to their home, and Elizabeth would be returned to hers by her aunt and uncle before they traveled on to Cheapside.
Elizabeth was deeply grateful for the loan of the carriage.
She would have been content, but not nearly as comfortable, in a hired carriage, but Mr. Darcy had refused to even hear of such a thing.
It was, he had told first Mr. Gardiner and then Elizabeth herself, the least he could do.
Elizabeth had to admit she was pleased that he had insisted.
Her foot continued to improve day by day.
Much of the swelling had gone down, and the bruising was fading from deep purple and blue to greenish-yellow.
Nonetheless, it was still sensitive, and prolonged movement or jostling caused a deep ache that would take hours to fade.
The smooth motion of Mr. Darcy’s carriage would eliminate a considerable amount of the pain inherent in travel.
“I hope you will write often,” Georgiana said through the window of the carriage.
Elizabeth smiled at her new friend, who had shyly given her permission to use her Christian name only the previous day.
“I will,” she promised. “And I hope you will write often as well.”
The younger lady nodded enthusiastically, “Surely, I will.”
Mr. Darcy, who was standing behind his sister, tall and grave, leaned forward a little and said, “Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet, I wish you a good journey home. I hope that you will be able to visit us at Pemberley again sometime, and I will say once more, if there is anything I can do to assist any of you in any way, you have only to ask, and I will gladly do so.”
Elizabeth smiled at the handsome master of Pemberley, even as her heart beat a little faster.
He was a truly marvelous gentleman, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and she would miss him very much.
Indeed, in her mind, he was close to being the perfect man, and if she were ever to marry, well, she hoped her husband would be a man like the master of Pemberley.
***
Darcy Carriage
On the Road to Pemberley
Darcy looked at his sister, sitting across from him and swaying gently with the motion of the carriage.
She was looking pensively out of the window, her hands clasped in her lap.
Her face was pale but composed, showing nothing of the ordeal she had so recently suffered or any hint of a storm of emotions similar to the one in Darcy's breast. That meant little; he was concealing his own agitation with habitual ease, his face neutral, hiding the evidence of his unsettled mind.
He was enormously grateful, of course, that Georgiana was safe here with him and the wicked conspirators punished.
The treacherous Mrs. Younge and scurrilous Zimmer were on their way, under guard, to be put aboard a ship that would bear them far away to Australia.
Wickham would never importune another unfortunate lady, as he lay now in a corner of the churchyard in a rogue's unmarked grave.
None of them would ever threaten Georgiana again.
He could not help but be worried, though.
Georgiana had been betrayed terribly by one whom she had trusted implicitly, one who should have prioritized her well-being, who should have protected her against all of Wickham's ilk.
In Wickham, too, she had not detected an enemy, and why should she?
Darcy, in his zeal to protect her, had never told her the truth about Wickham and his vicious proclivities.
She had seen him and known him only how he had represented himself to her, as a friend who had been kind to her in their childhood.
She had not known that he was a wolf in sheep's wool.
It was the only way she would be susceptible to such a plot. Shy as she was, Georgiana did not trust easily. New acquaintances had no hope of winning her over, only the nostalgia of happier days at Pemberley would do that.
Darcy knew, that for both their sakes, he would keep her with him for a while.
He would eventually have to hire a new companion, but that could wait until Georgiana's bruised heart healed some.
For his own part, Darcy would be far more careful in his next selection.
No more trusting to letters of reference and claimed antecedents!
When he made his choice, he would examine and re-examine every reference given him.
Only an honorable and trustworthy lady would have the care of his precious sister.
He hoped and prayed that both of them would find healing in the comfort and safety of Pemberley.
Mrs. Reynolds would take good care of Georgiana while Darcy was busy, and busy he would be for some time.
His duties as a host and a brother and a pursuant of justice had temporarily superseded his duties as master of an estate, but now his land and his people needed his focus.
Mr. Stone was an exemplary steward, studiously meticulous and as honest as the day, but even he could not take the full reins.
Jennings and Howell, two tenants both set in their ways, were again embroiled in a dispute that was only nominally about the placement of a fence, and Darcy needed to intervene and make peace between the quarrelsome farmers.
Perhaps in the meantime Mrs. Reynolds could begin to teach Georgiana housekeeping.
Yet there lay another problem. Their housekeeper was a treasure; she had come to them when Georgiana was only a year old.
Mrs. Reynolds had watched the children grow up, had been a support to Lady Anne as the latter's health declined, and had kept Pemberley running as first mistress then master passed on to their eternal reward.
She had been a steady pillar, maintaining the mansion in good heart as young Fitzwilliam Darcy took hold of reins that were still a little too big for him.
A treasure indeed, and one Darcy valued, but she was, after all, still the housekeeper, not the mistress of the house.
That was the role Georgiana truly needed to learn, but he was determined that she would not step into it too young.
It was a thousand pities that Pemberley had no mistress to teach her.
Unbidden, his mind went to his other carriage, many miles away and rolling on to Hertfordshire.
In it rode the Gardiners and their niece, the remarkable Miss Bennet.
It is shockingly easy to picture her walking the halls of Pemberley with the assurance of belonging, consulting with Mrs. Reynolds, presiding over the drawing room, gracing the mistress's suite.
She would be magnificent in the role, and she was all that Darcy had ever wanted in a wife.
She was kind, stunningly brave, generous, witty, intelligent, gentle and fierce alike, and very beautiful.
She comported herself with all the elegance of a gentlewoman, and despite the fact that she was not wealthy, she was refined and charming.
Her only disadvantage was her connections.
Although she was the daughter of a gentleman, her maternal relations were in trade.
Considering that Darcy had met representatives of these maternal relations in the Gardiners and found them every bit as genteel as the gentlemen and ladies of his acquaintance, he was less inclined to view this as quite so serious as he might have otherwise expected.
Yes, Mr. Gardiner was a merchant, but the man was sensible, not at all vulgar, as brave and kind as his niece, and a man of palpable honor.
His wife was no less worthy. She was a lady of temperate speech and mild manner, her wisdom and graciousness had proven a great comfort to a badly shaken Georgiana.
Indeed, Darcy was deeply in the debt of the entire family. It was a debt he acknowledged willingly, and he stood ready to serve them at their need.
It was Miss Bennet, however, who held his attention and, he almost dared to say, his heart.
When he had pledged to do whatever she asked of him, he had half-hoped she would give him her arch smile and suggest …
not marriage, she was too courteous for such forwardness, but something that would indicate his interest might be returned.
Perhaps an expressed hope that they could further their acquaintance.
Instead, she had looked pleased, and made suitable comments, but had not at all taken him up on his offer.
It may be that she did not return his regard.
Certainly, her aunt and uncle had made no move to throw her at his head, as would be terribly easy for them to have done while all dwelling together.
Both were far too well-bred to do any such of a thing, but they had not shown by so much as a gesture or sign that they desired such a union.
This thought pricked at Darcy's pride somewhat, but it hurt his heart far more.
He feared he had lost it already to the stunning young lady riding in his other carriage far, too far away.
It was startlingly depressing, to think of her absence in his home which had seemed to glow that much brighter with her presence.
He should have said something, should have steeled himself and told her plainly of his regard for her as he handed her up into the carriage instead of making vague promises of some future service.
At least he had not lost her forever. Their paths might well cross in Town, and if they did not, Hertfordshire was not at all far from London.
Meryton, she had said, and he could find her little town well enough with the name.
Next time he was down to London he would wander off the road a trifle and call upon the Bennets.
He could not think he would be unwelcome, but might it be too late?
Perhaps she had refrained from all flirtation and Mr. Gardiner had neglected to drop so much as a hint because she had a sweetheart waiting for her back home.
A sweetheart about whom she was strangely reticent, but was it not possible?
It would be months before Darcy was back to London, and by that time, the enchanting Miss Bennet might very well be married to another.
He was startled both by the way he quailed inside at this possibility, and the sudden urge to knock on the roof and order his coachman to turn the carriage around at once and pursue Miss Bennet and the Gardiners with all haste, come what may!
Madness indeed, though his heart leapt excitedly at the thought of swooping down on the lady with whom he was falling in love to declare his passion to her.
Of course, such madcap behavior might alarm her so thoroughly that she cut all connection, and that would entirely defeat the purpose.
Besides, Pemberley was waiting for him. Darcy had responsibilities that he must serve, rather than throwing all to the wind and haring wildly off after a lady.
Much of his life he had dedicated himself to careful sobriety and purpose, and now could not be any different.
It was a sensible plan to call upon the Bennets when next he was nearby, and he would hold to it.
In the meantime, he would surely hear of it if Miss Bennet was being courted by another.
She and Georgiana had promised to write one another faithfully, and given that he had overheard them calling one another by their Christian names, it was a promise that he felt confident would be fulfilled.
Georgie would certainly share pertinent information with him, for she knew that he considered Miss Bennet a dear friend too.
It seemed, in the moment, but a puny consolation, but he held it tightly nonetheless as they rode ever further apart.