Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
Elizabeth soon realized she need not have been concerned that the gossip had been too much for Mr. Darcy.
When he came to spend the evening soon after his return to town, he was as kind as ever, playing with her cousins and discussing politics, books, and his recent travels with her and Aunt and Uncle.
He seemed really to consider her uncle a friend, which still surprised her sometimes.
She loved Uncle Gardiner, but she knew most gentlemen of a station so high as Mr. Darcy’s would not condescend to such intimacy.
Mr. Darcy behaved as though he belonged in the family.
It was like February and March all over again, before Jane had come.
During the next fortnight, Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth, and Matthew took regular early morning rides; he came to dine and visit with the Gardiners several times; and they dined at his home twice.
Once Mr. Bingley had been at Darcy House, and the other time Colonel Fitzwilliam was a guest. She was called on to play and sing almost every evening they were together, and he always turned her pages.
Elizabeth had resisted the idea when they had been in each other’s company so much in the winter, but she realized Mr. Darcy was her closest friend.
She felt herself wishing to be entirely open with him, and they had already shared so much.
He knew about her childhood at Longbourn, the good and bad.
He knew of her early relationships with Jane and Mary and how their friendships had changed.
When she told him about her Aunt Bennet and her first days in London, she could not tell whether he was angry at the situation she had been placed in or merely concerned for her well-being.
“Thank God for Matthew,” was all he said, eyes closed, when she told him about her first walk down Gracechurch Street, alone. She could not but agree.
He had told her of his secret places inside Pemberley House and on the grounds. He had painted pictures with words for her to imagine his home, and she had attempted to put it on canvas. She showed him her progress, and he told her of the parts she had gotten right and those she needed to correct.
Elizabeth even shared her attic studio with Mr. Darcy one afternoon. With Dinah in the corner, she had showed him her paintings and sketches, some of which they discussed more when they had more privacy.
She knew he was close to his cousin the colonel and worried about the danger he was in even when only training in England.
He told her about his university experiences and his friends and about how much he liked to fence.
She had not previously known he had met Mr. Bingley at their fencing school.
She came to realize how very athletic Mr. Darcy was.
He did not pad his coat but had earned his physique naturally.
He fenced, boxed, rode horses, and even worked alongside his tenants, he had told her once.
Elizabeth understood that Mr. Darcy was sometimes lonely with his parents deceased, his sister in Kent, and his cousin often away.
She understood why he had struck up a solid understanding with her uncle.
She could not, however, fully comprehend why he tolerated her company enough to go riding with her.
Was it possible he gained from their conversations as much as she did?
He had a superior understanding of the world, as she had been nowhere but Longbourn and London.
She was well-read, of course, and she knew he valued their debates about history and literature.
Given the closeness that had developed between them, Elizabeth had a longing to tell him her whole truth.
She had long hidden her illegitimacy, and she hesitated to tell him.
He had accepted her when he thought she was the daughter of a tenant farmer, so perhaps he would not reject her when he knew all.
Even if the knowledge did prove too much for him, she felt uneasy keeping it from him.
They had been so open, and it seemed dishonest to hide this important part of herself.
She was tempted to tell him each time they rode and could speak privately, but she always found a reason to wait.
On Tuesday, the excuse had been that she had not wished to spoil the exceptional mood.
Mr. Darcy had surprised her on their morning ride by telling her he had applied for and obtained five tickets for the British Museum for that Friday.
He and Mr. Bingley would meet Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle at the front of the museum.
She had been so excited that he had remembered her wish to see the Egyptian exhibit and that he had made the effort to get the coveted tickets.
She and Matthew had gone to Dutton’s as soon as they returned to Gracechurch Street, and she had again taken out the book about Egypt that Mr. Shaw had set aside for her previously.
Then the day before, an early June rain had precluded their morning ride, so she had seen him only when he had called on her uncle for an hour after dinner. In the few minutes she could speak to him, she shared information she had read about Egypt.
Today, though, she was determined to tell Mr. Darcy all. He was meeting her at the Foundling Hospital. After hearing so much about it from her, he had wanted to meet the children himself.
When she arrived, Matthew and Dinah scurried off to the areas in which they helped regularly, and she waited another minute or two for Mr. Darcy to arrive on horseback. She greeted him and took him to the manager’s office.
“Good morning, Mrs. Legg.”
“Good morning, Miss Bennet. Would you mind saving the girls’ wing for last today? Mr. Mavery cannot come, and he was to read with the middle boys in ten minutes.” The industrious woman had barely glanced up, so engrossed was she in her documents.
“Of course. First, may I introduce a friend to you? Mrs. Legg, this is Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, in Derbyshire. Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Legg is the manager of the hospital and lives with the children full-time.”
“Mr. Darcy, what an honor it is to meet you.” Mrs. Legg stood from her desk and curtsied low.
“Miss Elizabeth has told me of the fine work you do here, Mrs. Legg. She has informed me my donations are put to excellent use.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I would be happy to show you around. Do you have any particular interests today?”
“Would it be convenient for me to go with Miss Elizabeth? I would be honored to see how the hospital functions day to day, and I feel sure she is well-suited to show me what I should see.”
“Certainly, Mr. Darcy. Miss Bennet, you need not read with the boys today if…”
“I should not wish to take away your volunteer, Mrs. Legg. If you will permit me, I will assist Miss Elizabeth in her regular work.”
“You are very good, sir. We appreciate your support.” She curtsied again.
When they moved away from Mrs. Legg’s hearing, Elizabeth chuckled at the look on his face.
“What?”
“I apologize for that uncomfortable praise, but you are perhaps the hospital’s greatest donor, you know. Poor Mrs. Legg did not know what to do with you.”
“Yes, well. I had planned to remain by your side today, so pray do not call attention to my presence again.”
Elizabeth’s heart skipped at his teasing grin, and she hurried toward the west wing.
Two hours later, Elizabeth guided Mr. Darcy outside. They had both helped the boys with their reading, and then he had watched her teach the youngest girls to sew. After observing for a few minutes, he asked for his own fabric, needle, and thread and joined in her lesson.
“Is your finger quite recovered, Mr. Darcy?”
“The bleeding has stopped. I do not understand how you embroider so exquisitely when you have to maneuver the needle even more precisely than the simple sewing I attempted.”
“Thank you for the gallant compliment, sir, but I have been sewing since I was younger than these girls. The first day our governess arrived, she began to teach us to hem handkerchiefs, and I was not allowed a day to pass without practicing some stitches or other.”
“All of your talents are hard-won, I think.”
Elizabeth felt herself blushing under his appreciative gaze, but she had not forgotten her purpose in bringing Mr. Darcy outside early today.
She had awoken with a determination to share her story with him.
She guided him to a bench in the shade of the side of the main building, but she did not sit.
She wanted to ensure privacy for this conversation, but she thought sitting would make her feel weak.
“Mr. Darcy, may I ask you…that is, I would like to tell you something.” She looked down, already embarrassed. How would she convey all she must?
“What is it? Is anything amiss?”
She looked into his searching eyes and bit her lip. How would he look at her after today? Was she about to lose the best friend she had ever had? She took a deep breath. She could not hold onto his friendship under false pretenses.
“What do you know about my parents?”
Mr. Darcy took a startled step back. He clasped his hands behind his back and moved closer to her.
“I know they died when you were but a babe, and I understand you were raised by your Uncle Bennet, who owns Longbourn. I think your mother was his sister and grew up at that estate…”
“Yes. That is true. And my father?”
He swallowed.
“Um…well, I confess I do not know for sure. I was told your father was a farmer, perhaps a…um…a tenant farmer?” His sentence trailed off to a whisper.
He was clearly uncomfortable with this false story, and she nearly lost her nerve to tell him it was so much worse.
She nodded, working up her courage. She was surprised when he grasped her hand and held it in both of his as he spoke intently, looking at her as though willing her to accept his words as the only conceivable truth.
“It does not matter, Miss Elizabeth. I am sorry I ever let it stand between us. Who your father was, what he did to feed his wife and daughter—none of it is of the least consequence. Your value is not diminished by your background, even if society is not yet ready to see that.”
Oh, that he would believe it when he knew all.
“Do you know why I have been helping at the Foundling Hospital since I was fifteen?”
Mr. Darcy seemed surprised by the abrupt subject change.
“Er…I believe you said you started by sewing clothing for the children, along with your aunt.”
“Yes, and then when I was seventeen, I began coming here, as well. That is when I learned who all these children are.”
“Orphans, like you?” The understanding on his features threatened to overtake her.
“Not orphans, no. But yes, like me.” She took another deep breath and looked into his now-confused eyes.
“My father was not a tenant farmer, Mr. Darcy. When I was fifteen, I overheard my aunt and uncles speaking.” She shook her head at the memory. “Uncle Bennet told them he would not tell me until I am one-and-twenty, but I am the natural daughter of a gentleman.”
She could no longer hold in the overwhelming emotion of telling him what she had never spoken aloud except to her mother’s miniature and in a brief conversation with her uncle, and a sob escaped.
Mr. Darcy still held her hand in one of his and reached out the other to stroke her shoulder gently in comfort. She struggled to continue.
“When I was five, my uncle told me my true name was Asbury but that I should never tell anyone. He said I must be Elizabeth Bennet. When I heard that I am illegitimate, I assumed my real father’s name was Asbury.
But it was not. I had also considered it could have been the name of the farmer who married my mother.
Papa Oliver. That is what I thought when I was five.
But Uncle Bennet gave me a false name. Asbury was his mother’s name before her marriage. I do not know my real name.”
She cried in earnest now, and Mr. Darcy embraced her, rubbing circles on her back.
He remained silent, however, and must have been processing all she had told him.
Why was he being so kind? He must be wishing for an escape.
She would not force him to remain with her.
She sniffed and stepped away from him. He released her and gave her his handkerchief, of which she made good use.
“Forgive me, Mr. Darcy. I had thought I could impart this information without becoming a watering pot.”
He shook his head, but she continued.
“I did not mean to deceive you all this time. The thought of losing your friendship…but I could no longer keep the truth from you. Forgive me for not being able to tell you sooner. I know you will tell nobody else; I could not keep the truth from my best friend.”
“No, no. I will not tell anyone, Elizabeth. Thank you for trusting me with this. Do not worry. No one will hear of this from me. It was only natural you wished to keep it a secret.”
He looked at his feet, at the wall of the building behind her, to the empty yard to his right. He bit his lip and swallowed hard. But he did not say anything else.
“Thank you for coming today to see the hospital. I wished you to understand how much it means to me.” She swatted away more tears. “Matthew and Dinah will be finished soon.”
They both looked in the direction from which her servants would come, but nobody was in sight at the moment. Their silence became awkward, but what could she say? Why had he not left her already?
He began to pace, and she moved to sit on the bench, her strength gone. They continued in this way for some minutes before she heard footsteps. She stood to look around the side of the building and was grateful to see Matthew and Dinah, their usual grins in place after working at the hospital.
“I will go now. Thank you again for coming, and for listening.”
“Yes, of course. I wish I could do more for you than listen. I apologize…I was deep in thought.”
She smiled as well as she could manage.
“No matter. Goodbye, Mr. Darcy.”
He bowed, and she walked away.