Chapter 59
Richard sat in his cousin’s study, nursing a large brandy. “That is quite a tale, Darcy.” He assessed the other man. “But you are looking the better for it. I suppose she …”
Darcy stood up and went to the window, his flush visible around the back of his neck. “She has not forgiven me, Richard. How could she? We have barely touched the depths of the pain I caused her. But she is kind enough to receive me and to say she understands.”
“She sounds extraordinarily forgiving to me, Darce.” He watched as Darcy returned to the chair and flung himself down, much more relaxed than Richard had ever felt he would see him again.
And he could feel himself beginning to unwind; to see, once more, the man he loved more than a brother, begin to emerge from the depths of despair.
Whatever he said, he had cause to hope. Richard was delighted for him, and for Pemberley, too.
It seemed the mistress would return and support Darcy in his work.
He was snapped out of his reverie as Darcy sloshed more brandy into his glass. “Elizabeth has agreed that I may take you to call upon her one morning. I think she would like to make her peace with you, too.”
“I would be glad to do that, Darce, and convey my relief to her as well.” He thought for a moment. “I could go with you on Wednesday, if that suits?”
His cousin nodded. “I will speak to her and Mrs Gardiner tomorrow and gain their agreement.” Darcy looked at him with narrowed eyes.
“I know you have never been to Cheapside in your life, but the Gardiners are elegant, genteel people, and I will not have you disparage them.” He hurried on.
“I know you probably wouldn’t, but just so that you know. ”
“I know they have been very good to you these last years, Darcy. I am grateful to them.” He shifted in the chair. “And Anna? How did she take this whole affair? And …” he paused ominously. “My parents are going to invite you to dinner this week. Refusing is not an option.”
Darcy set his jaw. “Thank you for the warning.” He ignored the last, and turned back to his sister’s friendship with Lucy.
Three days later, Richard followed his cousin through the door. An elegant lady dipped her head in the slightest curtsy, as Darcy introduced him, and he bowed. “Mrs Gardiner, I am very glad to meet you.”
After a few moments of conversation, they went into the sitting room and he saw Mrs Darcy rising to her feet.
He bowed to her, remembering her words in her letter to Darcy …
that hated name … and he wasn’t quite sure what to call her.
He cast around in his mind. “I am delighted to see you again, madam. And you look well.”
She did look well, he thought. She was wearing a better gown, one that suited her, fitted her perfectly and appeared more costly than her Longbourn muslins.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam,” she curtsied. “You are very welcome. Refreshments will be arriving soon. Please take a seat.”
He bowed again. “I thank you,” and took the chair she had indicated as she sat down. He noticed Darcy took the chair beside her, and was regarding her warmly.
“How are you today, Elizabeth?”
Richard’s eyebrow rose before he could prevent it, but fortunately they were looking at each other. Elizabeth, was it? Darcy was further on the path to redemption than he’d thought possible. Then his lips twitched; his cousin couldn’t possibly call her Mrs Darcy either.
As the maid entered with the tea trays, Richard was surprised when she was followed into the room by Mrs Gardiner and two gentlemen.
One he recognised as Mr Bennet, who looked very different from the days when he had met him amid rising scandal and the necessity of insisting his daughter marry Darcy.
He looked much younger somehow, and more at peace.
The other man was introduced as Mr Gardiner, as Richard had assumed, and he understood what Darcy had said.
If he had met him anywhere else, he would have thought him a gentleman.
It was astonishing he was the brother of loud, vulgar Mrs Bennet.
Richard shuddered as he remembered, even now, the one time he had sat in her sitting room at Longbourn.
As they all sat down, and Mrs Gardiner poured, Richard quietly observed them. Bennet sat on the sofa beside his daughter, and Darcy leaned slightly closer to her over the arm of the chair.
He was surprised to see the cordiality between his cousin and Bennet. He had assumed that Mrs Darcy’s letter might have killed any measure of acceptance. But it appeared that Bennet had his daughter’s attitude and forbearance, and was prepared to tolerate Darcy for her sake.
Sensible of the man, of course. Darcy would be within his rights to take his wife away with no recourse available. But that would never happen. Darcy — the man he had known before that terrible incident — was back, and he had learned his lesson well. Mrs Darcy was safe with him.