Chapter XX
Elizabeth.
Miss Elizabeth.
He stared.
He wondered whether he looked as surprised as he felt.
Only that morning, he imagined her on a country walk near Longbourn… Now, she stood before him.
For one disordered moment, his attention caught upon the delicate curve of her neck – some small, familiar grace made extraordinary by her presence. Then every thought resolved itself into one impossible fact: she was here.
Only afterwards did memory return – Mr. Bennet, Lydia, the purpose of the visit.
A faint colour rose in her cheeks.
She is really here.
A curious sensation passed through him. Relief, perhaps – relief at the sudden end of an absence he had grown accustomed to enduring.
“Mr. Darcy.”
Her voice restored the world to motion.
He bowed. “Miss Bennet.”
The greeting was perfectly proper. Nothing in it would have attracted the slightest notice from a stranger unless they realised that they were totally forgotten and that their greeting had lost precedence.
But Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were no strangers, and they were attending.
Mrs. Gardiner noticed Elizabeth lower her gaze rather more quickly than usual. At the same moment, Mr. Gardiner observed that Darcy’s composure had not entirely recovered from the surprise of finding her there.
Their eyes met briefly. No words passed between them – none were necessary.
“Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Mr. Bennet.” Darcy bowed to each in turn, forcing his attention away from the blessed figure beside the window.
“We are grateful that you have come,” said Gardiner. “I hope you do not mind my sending for you on such short notice. I thought it best that we should speak before any decisions are made.”
“Of course.” Despite himself, Darcy glanced once more towards Elizabeth.
“I sent an express to Longbourn immediately after your visit. My brother-in-law arrived this morning.”
Darcy inclined his head towards Mr. Bennet. “I am glad to hear it.”
“As you see,” Gardiner continued, glancing briefly towards Elizabeth, “Miss Bennet accompanied him.”
Darcy glanced towards Elizabeth, again. He was grateful for the diversion. Since entering the room, he had been trying to determine how deeply the recent events had affected her, and with very little success.
“I do not see how Lizzy’s presence could alter matters,” Mr. Bennet remarked dryly. “But my brother Gardiner insisted.”
Darcy’s gaze went to Mr. Gardiner. His gratitude could not be properly expressed, but the older gentleman appeared to understand it.
The faintest warmth entered Mr. Gardiner’s expression: the invitation had been made for Darcy’s sake.
They exchanged a slight inclination of the head, and nothing more was required.
Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly. “Papa.”
“What? I can fetch my daughter by myself.”
Fortunately, Gardiner intervened before the conversation could proceed further. “I thought Lydia might wish to see one of her sisters.”
At that, Mr. Bennet merely grunted.
Elizabeth stepped away from the window. “Mr. Darcy.”
He turned towards her fully.
“You can have no notion how affected we were by my uncle’s letter.” Her voice remained steady at first. “That you had found Lydia… that she is safe…” The words faltered.
For a moment, she looked down. When she raised her eyes again, they settled upon his face. She had not intended to study him. Yet she found herself doing so all the same. Searching. For what, she hardly knew.
Some sign that he had received her letter. Some acknowledgement. Some indication that the understanding they had reached in Lambton had not been entirely swept away by the events that followed.
But his expression revealed nothing beyond kindness and concern. Nothing more.
A painful disappointment settled in her chest. Of course. What else had she expected?
“That you took care of her when none of us could…” she finished quietly.
For an instant, she thought she saw something soften in his expression. Then it was gone.
Darcy cleared his throat. “Miss Bennet,” he said gently, “there is no need to thank me.”
“Of course there is. God bless you, God bless you for what you have done. On behalf of my family, I thank you. My sister… For taking this upon yourself. My father… he had given up all hope.”
Their eyes met. The room seemed very still.
She held his gaze. “You have done more for my family than I can adequately express.”
Darcy swallowed.
He looked away briefly, as though gratitude embarrassed him far more than criticism ever had.
“I understand what devastation it must have been for you-your family.” He hesitated almost imperceptibly. “I am glad I could be of service.”
Only courtesy, only kindness. Only the behaviour of a gentleman determined to do what was right. Elizabeth lowered her eyes. This must be enough. Whatever thoughts she had once permitted herself, however briefly, belonged to the past.
Darcy felt a tightening somewhere in his chest. He had imagined this meeting more than once. Gratitude had never been part of it. He hated with all his might the circumstance that made Miss Bennet desperate for her sister. It was not her gratitude he wanted.
As he looked at her, Fitzwilliam Darcy found himself wishing there were fewer people present, nonetheless.
Fortunately for him, Mrs. Gardiner chose that moment to recover her composure. “My dear, I think Mr. Darcy has already endured a great deal of gratitude from your uncle and me.”
A faint smile touched Elizabeth’s lips.
The tension eased at once. And Darcy found himself absurdly grateful to Mrs. Gardiner.
Mr. Bennet shifted in his chair. “I confess, Mr. Darcy, that I am still attempting to understand the situation.”
The room grew quieter.
“Perhaps the gentlemen ought to retire to the study,” Darcy offered.
“Ordinarily, yes,” said Gardiner. “However, I expect the ladies will not be complacent about being excluded.”
“Mr. Darcy, I will just make my husband tell all, and our niece is very worried about her sister’s prospects.”
Darcy inclined his head.
Mrs. Gardiner invited all to sit.
Then, Mr. Bennet looked directly at Darcy. “When my brother informed me that Lydia had been found, I naturally assumed he had located her.”
Gardiner sighed inwardly.
Mr. Bennet continued. “Instead, I discover that the gentleman who found my daughter is one whom I had no reason to expect to be involved at all.”
Darcy met his gaze calmly. “I understand your surprise, sir.”
“I am not certain surprise is the word.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “Papa.”
“No, Lizzy. It is a reasonable question.”
His attention returned to Darcy. “You wrote to me.”
“I did.”
Elizabeth snapped her head to Darcy. He glanced her way.
“I did not reply.”
He drew a slow breath before answering. “No, you did not.”
The simple agreement somehow made the admission worse. Mr. Bennet shifted again.
“Thomas, what are you saying? Mr. Darcy here wrote to you?” He turned to Darcy. “You offered to assist us?”
Darcy nodded.
“When was this?” He looked at one and the other.
“Sometime after you all left Lambton,” Darcy replied.
“I do not believe this. Thomas, you never told me this.”
Mr. Bennet shifted slightly. “It hardly seemed worth mentioning.”
“Worth mentioning?” Genuine disbelief entered Gardiner’s voice. “Mr. Darcy offered assistance.”
“He did not know our situation. At the time, I saw little purpose in troubling him further.”
“Troubling him?” Gardiner repeated. He looked at his wife in exasperation.
Mrs. Gardiner shook her head.
He looked briefly towards Darcy before returning his attention to Mr. Bennet. “The gentleman wrote voluntarily.”
“We could have found her in time,” Mrs. Gardiner cried.
Mr. Bennet frowned.
Elizabeth lowered her eyes. Mrs. Gardiner looked from one gentleman to the other without speaking.
Mr. Bennet appeared increasingly uncomfortable beneath their attention.
Darcy looked at Mr. Bennet for a long moment. His first impulse was to ask how any father could ignore such a letter. Fortunately, reason returned before the words escaped him. “The matter is of no consequence now,” he said.
Gardiner looked at him for a moment. No consequence. The phrase struck him as extraordinarily generous. “Mr. Darcy, I am sorry your offer of kindness was treated with such negligence.”
“I understand. It was a delicate matter.” Darcy spoke without the slightest trace of reproach.
“Had I found them sooner, and had Mr. Wickham still been with Miss Lydia, there would have been considerable pressure to secure a marriage. At the time, that might have appeared the most desirable outcome.” A shadow crossed his face.
“Having now learnt rather more of the circumstances, I am no longer persuaded it would have been a kindness.”
Elizabeth stared at him. “Not a kindness?”
“No. Mr. Wickham abandoned her. He left her without protection, without money, and with very little concern for what might become of her afterwards.”
The quiet certainty of his tone carried more weight than anger could have done. Mrs. Gardiner drew a sharp breath. Mr. Bennet’s expression darkened.
For some time, Elizabeth could say nothing at all. The room seemed strangely distant. She heard the voices around her, yet her thoughts had fixed themselves upon something else.
“He abandoned her,” Elizabeth said quietly.
Darcy inclined his head. “Yes.”
She had not trusted him when she decided not to involve him before they left Lambton.
Wretched decision. Her eyes drifted back to Darcy.
A sudden recollection rose before her. The lane at Hunsford.
His letter. The openness with which he had entrusted his sister’s history to her care.
The memory burnt afresh. She should have done the same.
She even had wondered whether she ought to write. Whether he should know. Whether his knowledge of Wickham might prove useful.
He had not turned away. By her aunt’s report, Lydia had been recovering under his protection.
How completely she had mistaken him – again. Tears stung her eyes.
How different everything might have been, had I trusted him sooner.