Chapter Eighteen
Gracechurch Street had settled comfortably into its afternoon quiet.
The morning's bustle had given way to that pleasant hour when business still occupied streets beyond the windows whilst the house itself paused before the evening's activity began.
Mrs Gardiner sat beside the drawing-room fire with her sewing basket at her feet, her work progressing slowly now that pregnancy made every task a little more tiring than it had once been.
Elizabeth occupied the chair opposite, some mending abandoned on her lap as she gazed into the flames.
The children, confined indoors by a passing shower, had transformed one end of the room into the deck of a pirate ship.
A card table draped with blankets served as the captain's cabin, whilst the sofa had somehow become a rocky island upon which Lucy—a princess of considerable importance—awaited rescue with little patience.
Edward had appointed himself captain by right of seniority, but George disputed nearly every order he gave.
Mr Gardiner lowered his newspaper and observed that the voyage appeared to have concluded in mutiny.
"I am not mutinying," George protested. "I am taking command."
"You cannot take command," Edward replied with all the dignity of his eleven years. "It is my ship."
Lucy, who had grown tired of waiting to be rescued, climbed cheerfully down from the sofa.
"I should like to be a pirate instead."
"I thought you were a princess."
"I was," she agreed. "But pirates look much more amusing."
Before anyone could settle the matter, the sharp rap of the front knocker echoed through the house.
Lucy sprang upright. "I shall answer it, Mama!"
"I fear Simmons would object rather strongly," laughed Mrs Gardiner. "Besides, visitors generally expect somebody a little taller."
The little girl accepted the disappointment with good grace and resumed arranging cushions into what she declared was now a pirate cave. A few moments later footsteps sounded in the hall, followed by the butler, who opened the drawing-room door.
"Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam."
Elizabeth jumped up so suddenly that the socks on her lap—an attempt at darning that she had long abandoned—fell to the floor.
Darcy entered first. He looked thinner than she remembered.
The days since they had parted seemed to have left their mark upon him.
There was a weariness about his face that careful shaving and immaculate tailoring could not disguise, and for one suspended instant he did not appear to notice anyone else in the room.
His gaze found Elizabeth at once and remained there, as though she were the only other person in the world.
Behind him came a gentleman of rather different character altogether.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was somewhat shorter than his cousin, broader through the shoulders, with a wide grin that seemed to hint at mischief.
He bowed first to Mrs Gardiner, then to Mr Gardiner with easy politeness before turning towards Elizabeth.
"Miss Bennet," he said, "I have long wished to make your acquaintance. Your servant, madam."
Before Elizabeth could frame a reply, Lucy emerged cautiously from behind a cushion and regarded the newcomers with deep suspicion.
"Are you pirates?"
For a heartbeat Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared to give the matter serious consideration.
"I regret to say we are not, Miss Gardiner."
Lucy's face fell.
"But," he continued, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "I have occasionally sailed with gentlemen who would have made very respectable pirates if the army had not secured them first."
George abandoned the pirate ship immediately.
"Have you fought them?" he asked, tugging at the colonel's coat.
"Soldiers generally have the bad fortune to fight other soldiers," replied the colonel. "It is much less exciting than pirates, I am afraid. Very little booty to be had and rather more mud."
Edward, relieved to find an adult who looked like he would respect proper chains of command, stepped forward.
"I am captain."
From behind him George pulled a face.
"So I perceived," said Fitzwilliam gravely. "Your authority has been disputed already, I think."
"It is George."
"I suspected as much."
George looked entirely unrepentant. "I was improving the ship."
"So said every mutineer in history."
Mr Gardiner laughed aloud, whilst even Mrs Gardiner found herself smiling.
Within moments the colonel had been drawn quite naturally into the children's game, inspecting the pirate ship with all the seriousness of an admiral reviewing His Majesty's fleet and listening with perfect gravity whilst Lucy explained the strategic importance of her pirate cave.
Throughout it all Darcy scarcely spoke. He offered the Gardiners every proper courtesy, yet his attention returned again and again to Elizabeth, who had risen when they entered but had not moved beyond the customary greetings.
Their eyes met only once before she looked quickly away, and the hopeful expression with which he had entered the room faded.
Mrs Gardiner, who missed very little, observed both glances. Catching Colonel Fitzwilliam's eye across the room, she found he too appeared to have reached the same conclusion.
"Miss Lucy," said the colonel, setting down the wooden sword George had insisted upon lending him, "I have been told there is a garden attached to this house.
Before I return to Berkeley Square I think it my solemn duty to determine whether your network of pirate caves extends beyond the drawing room. "
Lucy gasped as though entrusted with a matter of the greatest national importance. "It does! And there is a pear tree."
"And a wall," added George. "Pirates can hide behind it."
"Then I cannot possibly neglect my inspection."
The children required no further encouragement. George seized one of the colonel's hands, Lucy the other, and together they began towing him determinedly towards the door. Fitzwilliam cast an expression of comic resignation over his shoulder.
"It appears, Mrs Gardiner, that I have been pressed into service."
"You have only yourself to blame," she replied, laughing. "You encouraged them."
"A tactical error, I now perceive."
Mr Gardiner folded his newspaper and rose. "Come, Colonel. If you are to inspect the fortifications, you shall require somebody who knows the ground."
"Excellent. Every military expedition profits from a reliable guide."
Mrs Gardiner gathered up her sewing more slowly. As she passed Elizabeth she rested a hand for a brief moment upon her shoulder. "I believe Cook wished to consult me about supper," she said with studied casualness. "You will excuse me."
Elizabeth looked up uncertainly, but her aunt's expression was so encouraging that she found herself unable to object.
One by one they disappeared into the hall. Lucy's excited chatter drifted back through the open door, accompanied by George's emphatic corrections, Edward’s solemn pronouncements and Fitzwilliam's perfectly serious enquiries as to whether pirates generally preferred pear trees to oak.
For some minutes neither of them spoke. The cheerful noise from the garden drifted faintly through the open window, Lucy's laughter occasionally rising above the others before being swallowed once more by the sounds of Gracechurch Street.
It seemed extraordinary that the world should continue so peacefully whilst the two of them stood opposite one another, each uncertain how to bridge the distance that had grown between them.
Darcy had imagined this meeting countless times.
He had composed speeches, discarded them, reconsidered every word he intended to say and found fault with each syllable.
Now that Elizabeth stood before him, every carefully prepared sentence deserted him.
She looked paler than he remembered and there lingered about her a reserve that had not existed at the Golden Goose.
It grieved him to think that another man's wickedness had placed it there.
And it hurt even more to think that some part of it might always remain if he failed to find the right words.
Elizabeth, unable to endure the silence any longer, attempted the smallest smile. "Your cousin appears a very agreeable gentleman."
"He is," Darcy replied, returning the smile only faintly. "He has always possessed the enviable ability to make himself welcome almost anywhere. It is a talent I have never succeeded in acquiring."
The attempt at ordinary conversation failed almost as soon as it had begun. Elizabeth lowered her eyes once more, smoothing an imaginary crease from her skirt.
"I confess," she said after a moment, "I had not expected to see you again."
Darcy looked up in astonishment. "How could you think such a thing, after… after everything?"
She shook her head, a sad little smile touching her lips. "I thought perhaps, once you had returned to London and reflected upon everything that happened at the inn, you had decided it would be simpler if we simply ended our former acquaintance."
He stared at her for a moment, scarcely believing what he had heard. "Elizabeth, the only reason I did not come to Gracechurch Street the very day I arrived in London was because I was searching for Captain Henderson."
The colour ebbed slowly from her face. She looked up at him with an expression of horror. "Searching for him?"
"Yes." He spoke with deliberate gentleness, as though fearful of causing her fresh pain.
"Burke told me what happened after I left you that morning.
Had I known it an hour earlier I should never have permitted Henderson to leave the inn, but by the time I knew the truth he was already gone.
I came to London immediately, sent for my cousin and we have spent every day since attempting to discover where he was. "
He stepped forward and took both of her hands in his, heartened when she did not pull away. "Elizabeth, my dearest heart, he will never trouble you again. He has been deployed to Canada, far, far away."