A Ride with Mr. Darcy Page 6

  But he would not be allowed to have such pleasure. Elizabeth was leaving and he was uncertain if he’d ever see her again. His stomach plummeted at the horrible thought.

  “I only wish that I could do more,” Darcy said, turning to Elizabeth. Her light brown eyes captured his, and his heart skipped a beat. “I wish I could have taken away all of your pain and discomfort, so that you may have truly enjoyed what this country has to offer.”

  Elizabeth arched an eyebrow and smiled mischievously.

  “If you are making wishes,” she said with amusement in her voice, “perhaps wish that rabbit had chosen a better hiding place and had never dashed across my path.”

  “Yes, a much better wish,” Darcy replied with a laugh, but he felt a tinge of colour in his cheeks—he should have thought of that.

  “Well, despite the poor reasons for your stay, I am so glad that you were here for me to meet,” Georgiana said, breaking into the conversation. Darcy started at his sister’s voice, he had not realised that she had accompanied Elizabeth out of the house. His attention had been solely upon Elizabeth.

  “I am of the same opinion,” Elizabeth said affectionately.

  Georgiana bent down to give the shorter woman a hug and Elizabeth wrapped her arms about his sister with a smile. Darcy had always suspected that Georgiana and Elizabeth would find joy in each other’s company. To be proved right warmed his heart.

  “Lizzy,” Mr. Gardiner called, walking toward her. “I apologise for rushing you, my dear, but we need to be off. We have many miles to cross before we stop to rest tonight.”

  “Of course, Uncle,” Elizabeth replied. She hugged Georgiana once more and whispered something in her ear that Darcy could not quite make out.

  Then, she turned to face him. She dropped into a curtsy, as much as her injured ankle would allow, and Darcy fought to urge to pull her straight and pull her into his arms. He blushed at the forthright nature of this thought.

  “Thank you once again, Mr. Darcy,” she said, straightening. “I am not sure you will ever fully appreciate the depth of my gratitude.”

  “Of course,” he murmured in response.

  She had begun to climb into the coach and, although Mr. Gardiner was right behind her, as if by instinct, Darcy reached up to grasp her hand and steady her on the step. Darcy felt as though a shock was running from his fingertips through his body. This innocent touch made his heart race and forcing himself to let go was among the most difficult things he had ever had to do.

  Mr. Gardiner, too, said his goodbyes and climbed into the coach after Elizabeth. Taking a deep breath, Darcy closed the coach door, and gave two sharp taps on the side of the coach, alerting the driver to begin.

  “Goodbye!” Georgiana called, waving to the departing carriage.

  “Goodbye, Elizabeth,” Darcy echoed in a whisper, so that Georgiana could not hear.

  When the carriage had turned the bend and moved out of sight, Georgiana slipped her arm into his and they began to walk back inside the house.

  “Brother,” she said conversationally. “I like her very much.”

  “So do I,” Darcy replied, startling himself with his honesty.

  “I do not wish to ask an impertinent question…” Georgiana began, but Darcy cut her off.

  “Dear sister, I fear I know where your mind is going, and I ask that you leave the idea alone,” he said. He did not wish to go into the details of his and Elizabeth’s relationship—or lack of relationship. Not at the present.

  “If that is what you wish,” Georgiana agreed, but Darcy could hear the disappointment in her voice. “I shall leave it for now. But please know that I am ready to discuss whatever you might wish to discuss at any time.”

  “It is truly a blessing to have such an eager confidant,” Darcy said, only half joking. Georgiana laughed.

  “Well, I will leave you to your thoughts,” she said, kissing his cheek. “It has been days since I have practised the pianoforte and my fingers are simply itching to play.”

  “I will be delighted to hear your melodies floating through the halls once more,” Darcy said with a smile.

  Georgiana went off towards the sitting room and Darcy continued on to his study. She was not the only one who had neglected their duties of late. He had a stack of correspondence to reply to and it was time he sat down to do it.

  While Elizabeth had been here, nothing else had mattered. All of his attention had been on her and her comfort. The mornings they had spent reading and talking had been some of the best Darcy could ever remember. And while he had only begun to spend time with Mr. Gardiner to further ease Elizabeth’s mind, he had soon come to realise that he truly enjoyed the man’s company. Yes, he would have preferred to spend the afternoons with Elizabeth as well, but she needed her rest. Mr. Gardiner had turned out to be a most amiable companion.

  The week had been truly remarkable in so many different ways. But in one manner, Darcy could not decide how he felt. For his time with Elizabeth had only served to deepen his love for her. He had tried, in vain, to banish his affections but he could not. Even seeing her in such a low state as injury brings a person had done nothing but increase his feelings. She had borne her injury and pain with grace and dignity.

  Entering his study, Darcy went immediately to his desk and pulled a letter towards him. Glancing at the name, he recognised the name of an insufferable man with whom he had gone to university. Darcy groaned, unable to fathom why the man was writing, but dreading breaking the seal of the letter.

  He flipped through the letters, hoping to find one that would be pleasant to read. But he found none. The closest was a letter from Lady Catherine, and he was in no mood to deal with his aunt.

  Leaning back in his chair, Elizabeth once more took over his thoughts. After her refusal, he had thought she would never again allow herself to be in his company. Her words had cut him like a knife, and while she was not in possession of all the correct facts, her accusations of arrogance and dislike had deeply affected him.

  For some time, he had been questioning his actions in regards to Charles Bingley and Jane Bennet. At the time, he had thought himself morally compelled to step in and save Bingley. He had truly believed Jane indifferent to his friend. But after Elizabeth’s explanation of shyness, coupled with Bingley’s extended moroseness, Darcy had begun to wonder if he had done right.

  This week had further served to erode his confidence in his decision. Elizabeth had spoken extensively of her sister and Darcy had begun to put together a picture of a woman wholly incapable of toying with a man’s affections. Elizabeth had done her best to avoid the topic of Bingley, but her altered state had given rise to several startling revelations—including Jane’s continued affection for his friend.

  Making up his mind in an instant, he pulled a leaf of paper towards him. He owed his friend, and Elizabeth’s sister, much and it was time he began to atone for his error. He had dipped his pen and had almost begun the salutation when he stopped himself: Why was he suddenly compelled to write to Bingley? Was it for Bingley’s benefit or his own?

  Darcy knew that Elizabeth’s anger on Jane’s behalf was fierce and part of him hoped that this action would serve to temper that anger. But was that the correct course of action for his friend? He did not wish to further engage in selfish manoeuvres just to attempt to win Elizabeth over.

  A drop of ink dripped onto the blotter, but Darcy did not notice. Instead, he thought back to Bingley’s mood in Netherfield. In truth, Darcy had rarely seen his friend in such fine spirits. He loved the country, but Jane’s presence was a large reason for that affection.

  Next, Darcy pictured Bingley just a few weeks ago in London. The joy of Netherfield was absent; he was charming and kind to the ladies at the party they had attended, but as soon as the women had left his vision, Darcy had seen Bingley’s eyes glaze over. He was sad and Darcy suspected that it was because he was still heartbroken over Jane.

  He dipped his pen once more, confident that Bingley would
richly benefit from this plan.

  “My dear Mr. Bingley,” he began to write. He continued with some general greetings for Bingley’s sisters, and some passing news of Georgiana. But once the required pleasantries were done, he began the paragraph he was truly anxious to write:

  “I wonder if you would like to have dinner with me on the evening of the 26th. I have much news for you and would prefer to share face-to-face. I will be in town from the 24th, if another day or time would be more convenient, please do not hesitate to suggest an alternative.”

  Darcy signed the letter quickly and rang the bell at once. If he sent the letter now, it could go out with the afternoon post.

  “Yes, sir?” A footman entered the room with a bow. Darcy handed over the letter, barely waiting for the wax to dry.

  “Please sent this at once,” he said. “It is most urgent. Also, please alert my manservant that I will be departing for London on the morrow.”

  “Very good, sir,” the footman said with a bow. Darcy waved him away and began to think through his plan.

  Georgiana would be annoyed with him for leaving so soon after she arrived. But when he told her the reason, he felt confident she would forgive him.

  He pulled the stack of letters close once more: He could not leave Pemberley until all his work was complete. With a new sense of determination, he broke the seal on the first missive and set to reading.

  Chapter 9

  Elizabeth

  It was late afternoon when the coach finally pulled to a halt in front of Longbourn. Elizabeth was glad to be home, but her greatest relief was for her pounding head. When they had pulled away from Pemberley, she was confident that the days of sharp pain where behind her. But the bumps, jostles, and movements of the carriage reintroduced the discomfort in new and horrible ways.

  She had steadfastly refused the doctor’s little vial of medicine while she was at Pemberley, but in the coach, she had broken her resolve several times and taken the concoction. It did as promised and eased her pain, but it made her feel odd and disconnected. She did not like the feeling at all, and would be glad to put the vial aside once more.

  “Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet cried as the door to the carriage was opened. Her mother reached into the carriage and Elizabeth felt herself being pulled bodily from the interior. She did not have an opportunity to arrange herself to land gently, away from her injured ankle, and as a result, she landed heavily (and painfully) upon her feet.

  “Ouch!” She cried, unable to keep the exclamation from her lips. “Mama, hello, yes, I am quite happy to see you.” Mrs. Bennet was hugging her close and Elizabeth could hear her sobs. She was glad for her mother’s affection, but the positioning was painful.

  “Mama,” a second voice entered the conversation. “You must let her go. Look, you’re hurting her!” Elizabeth smiled to hear Jane’s words. They were kind, yet firm.

  “Oh Jane, of course, I had not realised,” Mrs. Bennet said, releasing her second daughter. “Lizzy, are you alright? Are you feeling horrible? Come into the house and tell us everything. Edward!”

  Elizabeth shook her head slightly at the torrent coming from her mother. She had asked each question rapidly, not waiting or needing a response. Finally, the sight of her brother had fully shifted her attention from Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief and began walking slowly towards the house. Kitty, Mary, and Lydia had also come out to greet them, and Elizabeth gave each of them a hug in turn. But they too were soon distracted by their aunt and uncle.

  “It is nice to see that I am so missed,” Elizabeth commented dryly to Jane, who alone of the crowd continued to accompany her.

  “Lizzy, you are unkind to say such things,” Jane said. “We have all been quite worried since the letter arrived telling us of your accident. But we are also pleased to see our aunt and uncle.”

  “I know,” Elizabeth sighed. “And I cannot pretend that I am not relieved to free of such a gaggle. The journey has not been easy and my head pounds.”

  “You must lie down at once,” Jane said, concern painting her face. “You can tell us about your journey later, but for now, you must rest.”

  “You are kind, dear sister, but all I need is to sit still for a few moments,” Elizabeth smiled tiredly. “It would be most unkind to rob our mother of the tale of our journey. And she will not be convinced of my health until she hears the entire story.”

  “Well, that is true,” Jane said, still unconvinced. “But your health is the most important thing.”

  “I shall be fine, I promise,” Elizabeth said as they entered the dim entryway.

  The sun was quickly disappearing but it was not yet dark enough to light the candles. A door opened to their right and Elizabeth was delighted to see her father sticking his head out into the hall. He saw his two eldest daughters and smiled.

  “I thought I heard you arrive,” Mr. Bennet said, wrapping Elizabeth in a gentle hug. “I am heartened to see you, daughter.”

  “Papa, it is good to be home,” Elizabeth said, tears coming to her eyes. She had not realised how much she missed being home until seeing her father.

  “I’m taking her to sit quietly for a few minutes,” Jane told Mr. Bennet. “She will never admit it to anyone but me, but she is not well.”

  “I am fine,” Elizabeth protested while allowing Jane to lead her into the sitting room. “Really, Papa, it is but a headache that will soon pass. I know how much Mama has been anticipating hearing about our journey, and I wish to please her in this matter.”

  “Your mother will survive waiting until tomorrow,” Mr. Bennet said, his concern matching Jane’s.

  “But her nerves,” Elizabeth said in a light, jesting tone.

  Mr. Bennet smiled slightly but quickly settled his mouth into a frown.

  “I will see to her nerves,” he said confidently. “As they have been my dear friends these last twenty years,” he added in an undertone.

  Jane and Elizabeth exchanged an amused look and stifled a laugh.

  Elizabeth settled herself on a settee and leaned her head back with her eyes closed. She heard Jane leave the room but return a few moments later.

  “I thought this might help,” she said as she rested a cool, damp cloth across Elizabeth’s closed eyes. The impact of the cool temperature was immediate and Elizabeth felt the pain lessen.

  “This is wonderful, thank you,” Elizabeth murmured.

  She was able to sit for another five minutes in quiet before the entire Bennet family was making their way into the sitting room. Elizabeth sighed, but took the cloth from her eyes and sat up to greet her family. There was still some discomfort, but enough of the pain had leeched away that she felt confident in her ability to satisfy her mother’s curiosity.

  “Now, Lizzy,” Mrs. Bennet said, settling herself into her favourite armchair. “What on earth were you doing, riding a horse in Derbyshire?”

  “We were invited to go riding by Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth answered.

  “Mr. Darcy invited you to go riding?” Lydia asked in disbelief.

  “That ill-tempered man that came to Netherfield with Mr. Bingley?” Kitty echoed.

  Elizabeth quickly looked at Jane and was displeased to see the flash of pain across her sister’s face. Apparently, Jane’s assurances that she had moved on from her affections towards Mr. Bingley were not as true as Jane might have hoped.

  “Insufferable man,” Mrs. Bennet said, glowering. “I remember him, oh yes, the one who thought himself too high to dance or take pleasure in the entertainments of Hertfordshire. I cannot believe such an arrogant man as Mr. Darcy would deign to take public guests to his estate riding!”

  “Now, now, sister,” Mr. Gardiner said jovially. “I know not of Mr. Darcy’s behaviour here in Hertfordshire, but rest assured that he was a perfect gentleman towards us in Derbyshire.”

  “It is true,” Mrs. Gardiner added. “He was most kind and attentive, even before Lizzy’s accident.”

  “Humph,” Mrs. Bennet
said irritably, as if not quite believing what she had heard. “Perhaps he too suffered a head injury.”

  “Mama!” Elizabeth cried. “That is quite rude and unnecessary to say. I must affirm my aunt and uncle’s statements to say that Mr. Darcy presented himself and his house in a most honourable light.”

  Elizabeth felt Jane look at her, but she did not turn around. She had already realised that colour was climbing in her cheeks, and she did not want to look into Jane’s questioning eyes.

  “Alright, I apologise,” Mrs. Bennet said grumpily, disliking the fact that she seemed to be in the minority opinion. “So Mr. Darcy was kind enough to take you riding, during which you were thrown from a horse?”

  Elizabeth sighed, wishing she could better explain the difference in Mr. Darcy’s character between his time in Hertfordshire and now. But she could not explain it to Mrs. Bennet for the simple reason that she could not explain it to herself.

  “I had an accident,” Elizabeth told Mrs. Bennet firmly. “It could have happened to anyone, anywhere. It was regrettable, but no one’s fault.”

  “Quite right,” Mr. Gardiner agreed. “And I do not think any of us displayed more concern for Elizabeth’s condition than Mr. Darcy himself.”

  “Even before the doctor ordered it, Mr. Darcy had offered his home for Elizabeth’s recovery,” Aunt Gardiner said. Elizabeth began to feel uncomfortable—her aunt and uncle were beginning to share details that she would have preferred to remain private.

  “Then we owe Mr. Darcy our extreme gratitude,” Mr. Bennet observed. “And respect, even in his absence.” These last words he directed at his wife. Mrs. Bennet nodded once in agreement.

  “Alright, I sense that he has changed,” Mrs. Bennet said. “But I cannot help but wonder what brought about such a change?”