Chapter Twenty #2
Georgiana shook her head violently as though forcing thoughts of that summer out of her mind.
“Mary was shocked when she learned about…his…intrusion last night. And equally shocked that I might see him every time I leave the safety of Netherfield.” She looked over her shoulder at Elliot who rode behind them, watchful.
“Thank you for assigning him to me today.”
“He will accompany you every time you leave the house.”
“But he is your valet,” she pointed out unnecessarily. “How will you manage without his services?”
“I will make do with one of the footmen if necessary, and a footman will assist Elliot in caring for my things. As it happens, Bingley has a footman who hopes to become a valet and will be happy to learn some of the duties of a gentleman’s gentleman.”
“That is a good thing.”
“You will feel less anxious when you have a proper governess-companion to keep you company.”
Georgiana tightly clutched her hands together. “I hope I will like her when Cousin Douglas brings her tomorrow for her interview.”
“As do I.” Darcy sought to distract her from the newest reason she needed a governess-companion. He did not have to think hard. “You must be excited to see Flora in a few hours.”
She lifted her gaze from her lap and stared up at him with glowing eyes. “I can scarcely contain my anticipation. Will Flora remember me?”
“She chose you, remember?”
“Yes,” she said with a joyous sigh. “That was one of the best moments of my life. I thought my heart would leap out of my chest.”
“Love is like that,” Darcey told her softly. The gig swayed as they left the cobbled streets of Meryton and started on the country road that passed by Netherfield.
Georgiana straightened and stared at him. “When will you assure Lizzy that you like her animals? All animals, really.”
Darcy frowned. “The next time I have the opportunity.”
“You might see her later when we pick up Mary.”
“I might,” he admitted.
“Do the Godbeds know when we are coming to the farm?” Georgiana asked, seemingly satisfied to change the subject back to her puppy.
“I mean to send a groom as soon as we arrive at Netherfield.”
She grinned, hugging herself.
*
Wickham, sitting alone in the taproom of his inn, his hand around a tanker of ale, looked up and noticed an officer threading his way through the room.
A colonel! He swiftly stood to attention, almost knocking over his chair.
Then, he realized who stopped before him, appearing cold and stern—Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“So, it is you, is it?” Wickham asked carelessly, relaxing his stance.
“I outrank you, Lieutenant. Is this the way you address a senior officer?”
Wickham stiffened, unwilling to risk being cashiered out of the militia—which would mean losing his financial investment—for insubordination.
“Sir,” Wickham said smartly. He was keenly aware of the attention they garnered from the other customers. His stomach roiled at the awkwardness of the moment.
“I have written to your commanding officer,” Colonel Fitzwilliam stated coldly.
“If I may enquire—about what, sir?” Wickham asked.
“I am certain you know the reason, Lieutenant.” Fitzwilliam leaned toward him and lowered his voice. “You had best keep your attention on your assignment. Do you understand me?”
“Sir,” Wickham responded, looking straight ahead.
Colonel Fitzwilliam turned on his heel and left the taproom, looking neither left nor right.
Wickham relaxed his stance and sat to finish his drink.
Being subject to senior officers annoyed him so much that he wondered why he had ever joined up.
He had barely managed to scrape together the thousand pounds necessary to obtain his lieutenancy.
As long as the war lasted—and no one knew how long that would be—he would receive an income from his position.
He desperately needed that income. After the war ended, the militia would be disembodied and the thousand pounds would be his once more to invest in another venture.
Perhaps I should consider switching to the regular army. Then, I might be kept on…if I could bare it, after the war ends. Wickham shuddered at the thought that he might be sent abroad to fight Napoleon if he joined the regulars. I shall not join the regulars unless I am forced into it.
“Fitzwilliam,” he cursed beneath his breath.
I thought I saw him at Netherfield, searching the grounds for me. Humph, I slipped away safely and that must irk him enormously. Wickham rubbed his jaw, imagining a dust-up with the sanctimonious officer.
Elliot…what can I do about the valet? I only want a chance to speak with Georgiana.
That will never happen if Elliot is trailing around behind her.
Or can it? If I…hm…if I speak to her on the street, he will not dare to make a scene.
I must make the acquaintance of the Bennet sisters that Denny talks about so much.
I have seen Georgiana in the company of one of the sisters—Mary Bennet, I think.
What could be more natural than two sisters and their escorts meeting one of their sisters and her friend casually on the street?
Wickham tapped the table with one finger.
“But, how to arrange it?” he whispered, his lips barely moving.
*
Lizzy wandered around the side of the house, a flower basket over one arm, a large floppy sunbonnet on her head, to discover the Darcy carriage had arrived to pick up Mary.
Mr. Darcy stood near it, holding the door as he assisted his sister out of it.
Georgiana appeared excited, her expression wreathed in smiles.
Lizzy hesitated, thinking to turn about before anyone saw her.
She watched Georgiana hurry to the doorway, which must be open by this time.
Before Lizzy had a chance to leave, Harry bounded around the corner, spied Mr. Darcy, barked once, and gamboled up to him.
Mr. Darcy, naturally, turned to greet Harry and spied Lizzy.
“If only the ground would swallow me up,” she whispered mournfully.
She curtsied politely and waited for him to bow, and then ignore her. Instead, to her horror, he left the carriage and strode across the grass toward her. I cannot escape! If only I could escape!
Mr. Darcy reached a point only two paces away. He stopped and bowed. Lizzy resisted the impulse to curtsy again. I already did so. Calm yourself.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy said gently.
Gently?
“Mr. Darcy.”
He stared down at her for so long that she thought he did not mean to say anything further. She did not think she could find anything to say to him. Her mind was utterly blank. Finally, he spoke—in a voice of kindness and concern.
“Will you do me the very great honor of forgiving the hasty words I uttered this morning?”
Dear Lord, how will I resist him if he speaks to me this way?
Lizzy blinked rapidly, out of breath but not from exercise. She did not know what to say in reply. The most obvious response was to say she forgave him. But did she?
“You hurt my feelings, Mr. Darcy,” she said at last, frowning. “You questioned my judgement.”
He waited several heartbeats before responding in a remorseful voice.
“I did. My only defense is that I reacted to my fear for you. I imagined you trampled and gored…and I…I reacted…poorly. I thought—pray excuse me—I thought such a tragedy could be avoided simply by you taking more care. I should have realized that you would not put yourself into unnecessary danger.” He swallowed, hard.
“My heart was in my throat, Miss Elizabeth.”
Lizzy frowned at him, staring into his eyes, hoping to see if she could trust what he said. To her surprise, he reached out and took her hand, pressing it between both of his.
“First the stable lad, then your farm manager, told me how much they feared Clover,” he explained.
“So, you approached the paddock with fear already brewing?” Lizzy asked, understanding growing.
“That is correct,” Mr. Darcy said, a smile beginning to hover on his lips. “Can you forgive me? I promise you I do not dislike your love of animals—not at all. Not in anyway. I swear it.”
Unable to resist the sincerity of his apology, Lizzy nodded. “I forgive you. But, kindly do not shout at me again.”
He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. Continuing to hold it, he added, staring intently down into her eyes, “I am not in the habit of shouting. My behavior shocked even me.” He smiled. “Thank you for shouting back. I deserved it.”
Lizzy chuckled and carefully withdrew her hand from his grasp. “My disposition is lively, but steady. Even so, I will not permit myself to be bullied.”
“Good,” Mr. Darcy said, stepping back and tugging down on his waistcoat. He glanced over at his carriage. “I see that Georgiana and Miss Mary are waiting for me. Thank you for your kindness.”
Lizzy curtsied, and he bowed before striding off toward the carriage. Harry came and sat beside her, leaning his body against her leg.
“You like him, boy, do you not?”
Harry chuffed.
“I thought so. Your approbation reassures me,” she said softly. “Because, you see, I find myself liking Mr. Darcy exceedingly well.”
Lizzy watched the carriage roll away until it entered the lane. Her heart, so heavy before, now sang with relief and guarded joy. She could not help hoping for the future she thought lost.