Chapter 2
Two
The private sitting room adjoining the rooms the Gardiners had taken at the inn was quiet when they entered it.
Darcy paused just inside the threshold, as though collecting his resolve, before stepping forward.
“Mr Gardiner,” he said in a low voice, “might I beg a few moments of your time to speak privately?”
Elizabeth met his eyes, her smile warm with encouragement, and then followed her aunt into the inner chambers to refresh herself after the walk. Scarcely had the door to the ladies’ rooms closed behind them when Mr Gardiner turned back, his expression attentive, if reserved.
“How may I help you, Mr Darcy?” he said.
Darcy drew a careful breath. “I am fully sensible that you are Miss Elizabeth’s uncle and not her father.
Still, while she is under your care, I would not presume to act without first seeking your approval.
” He paused, choosing his words with care.
“It is my hope to obtain your blessing to continue my attentions to your niece while you remain in the area, and—should you grant it—to request your permission to accompany you to Hertfordshire, that I might lay my intentions properly before Mr Bennet in person.”
Mr Gardiner regarded him for a moment in frank surprise. “And what does my niece say to this?”
There was the slightest tightening of Darcy’s posture as he cleared his throat, though his voice remained steady.
“She has consented to become my wife. We have been acquainted for nearly a year, and although our understanding of each other was not immediate and we have disagreed on several matters, I have come to know her character well. I do not claim perfection, sir, but I am resolved to value her judgement, to respect her independence of mind, and to devote myself to her happiness.”
For a moment, Mr Gardiner made no reply.
When he did speak, his tone was calm but unmistakably firm.
“You understand, of course, that my niece is not from your station. Nor is she the sort of young woman who will bend herself into whatever shape society—or her husband—might prefer. She will not be a biddable or an easy wife and will demand to be treated as an equal partner.”
“I do understand,” Darcy replied at once, meeting his gaze without bravado.
“It is precisely for that reason that I seek your approval, rather than assume it. I admire her spirit, sir. I would not wish her altered—only cherished. Miss Elizabeth has proven herself to be my equal, if not my superior, in many aspects since we met. Trust me when I say that I know precisely what I am asking.”
Mr Gardiner studied him a moment longer, and Darcy had the distinct impression that his character was being weighed as carefully as his words.
At last, he inclined his head slightly. “Very well. As you have suggested, I can grant you only my permission to continue your attentions to her. You are welcome to accompany us on our tours while we are in the Lambton area, and to call on Lizzy as often as you like here at the inn. If you wish, she is welcome to visit your sister at Pemberley as well, provided either my wife or I accompany her.”
He continued, his manner thoughtful rather than unkind.
“Lizzy reached her majority only a few days before we began our journey north, so you do not require her father’s consent to wed her.
Nevertheless, I am certain she would wish you to speak with him.
I cannot say what reception you may meet in Hertfordshire; you must be aware that you did not leave the neighbourhood with the most favourable impression of your character.
” His gaze sharpened briefly. “That she has accepted you at all tells me you have shown her a very different side of yourself. Elizabeth is not a young woman to marry for advantage. You would have had to earn both her affection and her respect.”
Darcy inclined his head in acknowledgement of the man’s words.
“We met again in Kent, and I am ashamed to say we argued rather sharply then. Since that time, however, we have managed to come to a better understanding. I have been fortunate enough to correct some misconceptions she held of my character—and, more importantly, to show her who I truly am.”
Before much more could be said, the door to Elizabeth’s bedchamber flew open and she hurried into the sitting room, a letter crushed tightly in her hand.
Her composure was entirely gone. “Oh, Uncle—we must depart for Longbourn as soon as it can possibly be arranged,” she cried, her voice strained with alarm.
Darcy moved instinctively towards her before Mr Gardiner could reach her, and Elizabeth, seeming scarcely aware of what she did, allowed herself to be gathered into his arms. “What is the matter, dearest?” he asked quietly, his tone low and urgent.
She drew in a deep, trembling breath, her fingers clutching at his coat as though she required the support.
After a moment, she seemed to recall herself.
Gently but firmly, she withdrew, stepping back and extending the letter towards her uncle.
When she looked again at Darcy, her eyes shone with unshed tears, and he thought he saw not only distress, but regret.
“Lydia has been disgraced,” she said, the words forced from her with evident effort.
“She has, it seems, been prevented from entirely ruining herself, but her reputation is surely tarnished.” Her voice faltered, and she pressed her lips together before continuing.
“Mr Darcy, I fear that whatever understanding we had reached must now be set aside. You cannot wish to connect yourself to my family when we learn all that has taken place.”
“Surely it cannot be so terrible,” Darcy murmured in what he hoped was a conciliatory manner, but he could sense that his own countenance had grown grave.
“She arranged to elope with Mr Wickham,” Elizabeth said, her voice unsteady but firm, “yet on the very evening they were to depart from Brighton, he was taken violently ill after his dinner. Lydia believed they were to flee north to Gretna Green, but Colonel Forster’s letter to my father makes clear he doubted such intentions entirely for Wickham had outstanding accounts at nearly every shop in Brighton and debts of honour throughout the camp. ”
Her breath caught, and she paused only long enough to steady herself before rushing on, as though afraid she might lose her resolve.
“The whole scheme was uncovered when Lydia went to the barracks late in the evening to seek him out, and in her agitation confessed everything to two or three officers who were still awake. They escorted her at once to Colonel Forster’s lodgings.
He was furious—so much so that he threatened to beat her for her folly—and immediately dispatched an express to Papa, demanding that he come and retrieve his foolish daughter. ”
Elizabeth turned away briefly, as though unable to meet either man’s eyes.
“It might, perhaps, have been borne with less disgrace,” she added softly, “had Mama not learnt of it. But she did—and now Jane fears that all of Meryton is aware of Lydia’s attempted elopement.
Jane was uncertain whether Lydia had allowed Mr Wickham any liberties, but Papa was convinced that she must have. ”
Her voice failed her at last, yet she forced herself to continue, the words scarcely more than a whisper.
“She is ruined—and has drawn her sisters into her disgrace. No one of sense will wish to connect themselves to my family now. Even you, Uncle, may be obliged to distance yourself for the sake of your business and your children.”
Both gentlemen attempted to reassure her, but Elizabeth scarcely seemed to hear them.
She was too overcome to be comforted, however earnestly they tried.
Hearing raised voices and hurried footsteps, Mrs Gardiner emerged from her chamber and at once crossed the room, drawing Elizabeth into her arms without regard for the presence of the men.
At that, Elizabeth’s composure gave way entirely. She sank down upon the settee and, turning instinctively, hid her face against her aunt’s shoulder. Darcy stood helplessly by as the composure she had so valiantly maintained deserted her, and sobs shook her slight frame.
He could do nothing but watch as Mrs Gardiner gathered her close, one arm about her shoulders while the other smoothed her hair. That lady listened quietly as the account was repeated, offering only soft assurances until, by degrees, Elizabeth’s tears subsided and her breathing grew steadier.
When Elizabeth had grown calmer, even though she still leaned heavily against her aunt, Darcy found himself standing beside Mr Gardiner in a silence that seemed to press upon them both.
Miss Bennet’s letter remained clenched in the older gentleman’s hand, its contents now hanging over the room like a sentence not yet spoken aloud.
At length, Darcy turned to face him, his hands settling behind his back, his expression composed yet immovable.
“I will not allow her to release me,” Darcy murmured, his voice low and controlled.
“Our engagement will stand. Whatever her sister may or may not have done is of no consequence to me; I have lived without her long enough and have no intention of giving her up. She is the only person I have ever wished to marry.”
Careful not to be overheard, Darcy continued, setting his jaw in a quiet show of resolve.
“Elizabeth herself is my only concern, and I will do whatever is necessary to convince her of my constancy.” Inclining his head slightly, he added, “With that understanding, sir, you and Mr Bennet may depend upon my assistance in this matter as well. Does Miss Bennet’s letter make any requests? ”