Elizabeth Bennet's Excellent Adventure: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary (20 page)

“I appreciate your loyalty,” Darcy said with a wry smile.

“My respect for the girl increased when she admitted she knew you ‘a little’ and that she found you ‘very handsome,’” Mrs. Reynolds continued.

Darcy’s eyebrow rose with curiosity. He hoped perhaps Mrs. Reynolds described Elizabeth Bennet, but he could not imagine Miss Elizabeth’s declaring him handsome: The woman abhorred him.

“And how did this conversation come about?”

Mrs. Reynolds blushed, but she did not avoid his unspoken accusation, a sign of her long-standing position in his household.

“Do not look to place blame, Master William. I respect the late master’s kind heart and his benevolence toward his godson, but I see no reason to display George Wickham’s image in this house. Even the late Mr. Darcy could peer down from Heaven and see Mr. Wickham turned out very wild.”

“We will discuss the future of Mr. Wickham’s likeness upon another occasion. Speak to me of your conversation with the young lady.”

It was Mrs. Reynolds’ turn to raise an eyebrow in interest; however, as a well-trained upper servant, the lady swallowed her questions.

“Mrs. Gardiner remarked of your fine countenance when she looked upon the miniature, and then the lady asked her niece whether it was an accurate likeness. I then inquired if the young lady held an acquaintance with you. When she admitted as such, I asked if she found you a handsome man.”

“Then, it was Mrs. Gardiner and you who placed words in the lady’s mouth,” he reasoned.

Darcy felt the female in question likely agreed only to be rid of the conversation.

Mrs. Reynolds blustered.

“The girl’s aunt and I stated the obvious,” she declared with a tone commonly found among established servants. “But neither Mrs. Gardiner nor I instructed the young lady to search out your portrait in the gallery nor did we lead her to it again and again.”

Darcy’s heart hitched higher.

“I count no one named Gardiner among my acquaintances. Did you overhear the young lady’s name?”

“Her aunt called her ‘Lizzy’ several times so I would assume it is Miss Elizabeth or Lady Elizabeth.”

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” Darcy corrected.

Remorse at not meeting her today filled his chest. A glance to his housekeeper said Mrs. Reynolds wished an explanation.

“The young lady’s parents are neighbors of Mr. Bingley’s estate in Hertfordshire. If it is truly Miss Elizabeth, we met upon several occasions. I believe I stood up with her at the Netherfield’s ball.”

“Then perhaps you might renew the acquaintance,” Mrs. Reynolds suggested. “Mrs. Gardiner was to dine with friends before the family moved on to Matlock. I am certain Mr. Bingley would wish to behold Miss Elizabeth again.”

An invisible hand squeezed Darcy’s heart. Should he risk an encounter with Elizabeth Bennet? Had his letter softened the lady’s disdain for him?

“Miss Bingley took a dislike for the Bennets,” Darcy offered in explanation. “Mr. Bingley developed a regard for Miss Bennet. His leaving Netherfield was poorly done.”

“I am sad to hear it, Sir, but your confidence explains the halfhearted air, which follows Mr. Bingley about these last few months.”

Darcy nodded his acceptance: His housekeeper gave voice to what Darcy’s pride denied. Darcy sorely wounded his friend by acting in partnership with Miss Bingley in separating Bingley from Miss Bennet. With a second nod, he excused his servant. For several long minutes, Darcy stared off into the emptiness, which marked his life.

“I cannot seek out Miss Elizabeth,” he told the rise of expectation climbing up his chest. “Even if the lady might offer her forgiveness, Miss Elizabeth holds no interest in renewing our acquaintance. Furthermore, I do not deserve happiness when I robbed my friend of an opportunity to know it.”

* * *

“You are very quiet this evening, Lizzy.”

Her aunt’s friends invited them to dine in the evening, but once they returned to their let rooms, Elizabeth preferred to spend time alone with her thoughts of Mr. Darcy.

“Just a bit tired.”

Elizabeth made herself smile at her dearest aunt.

“Then you should retire early,” her Uncle Edward declared.

Her aunt ignored her husband’s lack of intuitiveness.

“Are you certain what the Pemberley housekeeper said of Mr. Wickham did not upset you? I would venture the woman’s loyalty to the Master of Pemberley colored the woman’s opinions.”

Elizabeth expected her aunt to ask of Mr. Darcy, not of Mr. Wickham.

“Not in the least,” Elizabeth assured. “While in Kent, I learned more of what occurred between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham, enough so to acquit the former of any ill doing.”

Aunt Gardiner’s interest piqued.

“Would you care to elaborate?”

“I promised my source secrecy.”

Elizabeth would like to confide in her aunt and uncle for she wished someone would provide her permission to beg Mr. Darcy’s forgiveness, but she dug the pit of regret in which she wallowed.

“As I explained in my letter before I departed for Kent, Mr. Wickham bestowed his affections upon Miss King, and I held no loyalty for the man when I arrived on Charlotte’s threshold; therefore, I was free to accept other versions of the events.”

Hers was an exaggeration of what occurred, but it held some truth.

“Although I still believe handsome young men must have something to live on, I pity whoever accepts Mr. Wickham’s hand.”

If only I did not previously express my opinions to the contrary
, Elizabeth thought.

“That is quite a transformation,” her uncle observed.

“I am only aggrieved that I behaved with foolish disregard for Mr. Darcy. I treated the gentleman poorly.”

Her aunt’s question came quickly.

“Is this revelation the source of your reluctance in viewing Mr. Darcy’s home?”

Elizabeth swallowed the bile rushing to her throat.

“I rejoiced today when Mr. Darcy’s housekeeper informed us that we missed his return to Derbyshire by a day. I would not wish to encounter the gentleman. Our last exchange of words was far from pleasant.”

“If I knew…” her uncle began.

Elizabeth shook off his regrets.

“I asked the inn’s staff of Mr. Darcy’s presence at Pemberley before we came to the place.”

“We should be on to Matlock the day after tomorrow,” her aunt declared. “Even with Mr. Darcy’s attendance at Pemberley we are not likely to encounter him. My friends do not travel in the same circles as Mr. Darcy. We shall be gone soon, and the gentleman will know nothing of our coming into his part of the shire.