Fitzwilliam Darcy
Darcy set the pen down on the table and examined the letter. He had kept his handwriting small, but still it took two sheets of paper.
Perhaps I should read over it to make sure of my phrasing.
He shook his head and folded the two sheets together and placed it inside an envelope. He probably should, but he would not. The sooner this letter was in Elizabeth's hand, the better.
A knock at his door startled him and he nearly fell over in his chair. "Who is it?"
The door opened to admit Richard. "I came to see how you fared..." His jaw dropped when he took in Darcy's ragged appearance. "Good Lord, William, what happened? When you did not come down for tea, I assumed you had gone to propose... and when you did not return for dinner, I believed you had found a more pleasant way to occupy your time."
Darcy flinched. "Your first assumption was correct."
Richard frowned. "You do not mean to say she refused you?"
Darcy glanced down at the envelope in his hand. "As it happens, Richard, not only did she refuse me, she did so in terms so strong that I felt I must be allowed to answer for myself."
Richard crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Should you not do the lady the honor of accepting her answer, however distasteful it is to you?"
"Not when that answer contains a defense of George Wickham."
Richard drew himself up, an immediate scowl on his face and a curse on his tongue. "What can she know of that blackguard?"
"A great deal, in fact. I did not tell you that he was a member of the local militia when we were lately in Hertfordshire." Darcy shrugged. "I must own that his presence in the country certainly contributed much to my own desire to quit it."
"Understandably."
"Indeed. With his usual inimitable charm, Wickham managed to ingratiate himself to Elizabeth, and last night she accused me of a great many things in regard to him." Here Darcy held up the letter. "I could not allow her to believe him a gentleman, so I wrote a letter explaining the whole truth of my connection with the man."
Richard narrowed his eyes. "The whole truth?"
Darcy rubbed his forehead where the headache lingered. "Yes. I have also named you as a witness whom she may question. Will you make yourself available for any quizzing she might give?"
"Of course. I cannot be content to let any lady think well of George Wickham."
"Quite so. I will return after I find her and we will repair to the Parsonage then."
Richard held up his hand. "I admire your eagerness, William, but may I suggest you call Vincent and allow him to dress you in fresh clothes before you walk out? I am not sure your current state of disarray would recommend you to the lady."
Darcy looked down at his rumpled shirt and grimaced. "Indeed. But may I count on you to put off Lady Catherine and then call on the Parsonage with me when I return?"
"Certainly."
Darcy rang for Vincent after Richard left, and it was a mark on the valet's discretion that he did not so much as raise an eyebrow when he was admitted to the room. He went to work with all his usual efficiency, and in less than half an hour, Darcy was presentable.
He exited the house the same way he had entered the night before. Force of habit sent him in the direction of the grove where he had often met Elizabeth, but he was not halfway there when a new painful thought overcame him. He had thought, when Elizabeth told him she loved to walk in the grove, that she was inviting him to join her there. However, her total disapprobation of him made that unlikely.
Mortification swept over Darcy.
Had I realized her words were a warning, rather than an invitation, I would not have plagued her with my presence.
His headache returned, and Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose once more. He took a deep shuddering breath; the thought that Elizabeth disliked his company enough to warn him away hurt almost more than anything else.
"Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner..."
The words rang in his ears and he winced. Yes,
almost
anything else.
With that thought in mind, he gave up on the grove. She would not go to a place where they had met so frequently. Instead, he walked on the edge of the park which fronted the road, in hopes he might catch sight of her.
He had almost given up hope that she should happen upon him when he spied her walking the lane that bordered the park. Her back was turned toward him, and it struck him that she had seen him first and was walking away to avoid conversation with him.
"Miss Elizabeth," he called out in a loud voice, for once heedless of propriety.
I shall make it impossible for her to leave without being rude.
She halted in her steps and paused for a moment, then turned back slowly. There was not even an attempt at a smile on her face; rather, her eyebrows were drawn together in an expression that spoke of both her reluctance to answer his summons and her annoyance at being caught.
Darcy swallowed his resentment and held out the letter, which Elizabeth took without question. That, at least, was gratifying. "I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honor of reading that letter?" Without waiting for an answer he bowed and walked back toward the house.
Richard was in the breakfast room when he returned. "I began to wonder how long it took to deliver a letter."
Darcy rubbed the back of his neck. His headache had spread and he longed for food and rest, but their task was not complete. "The delivery took but a moment; chancing upon Elizabeth in the park took rather longer."
If Richard heard any possibility that she had been avoiding him, he very tactfully did not comment on it. "Shall we call on the Parsonage? If you wish me to be available to her questions, we should go."
Darcy poured a cup of coffee and stared into the rich brown liquid. "I do not believe I will stay long. After the events of the last day, I fear I have not patience to deal with Mr. Collins."
They were welcomed most cordially to the Parsonage, but Darcy was unaware of anything but Elizabeth's absence.
If she has not returned, then perhaps she is reading my letter.
However, it did not take long for the clergyman's obsequious manner to pierce his consciousness, and what little forbearance Darcy still had vanished. "I am sorry," he said abruptly, "but I have business with Lady Catherine this afternoon. Please excuse me."
Mr. Collins, of course, could not object to anything her ladyship might want, and Darcy bowed his farewell and exited the house.
Once back at Rosings, he paced the length of the library while he awaited his cousin's return.
Will she believe me, or has Wickham made too strong an impression on her sensibility to be overcome?
The thought wounded his pride, but there was a deeper concern that pride could not match--concern that Wickham had won her over, that despite all she now knew, she would be swayed by him in the same way Georgiana had been.
It was past noon when Richard finally returned, and Darcy's anxiety rode high. "Well?" he demanded as soon as his cousin entered the room.
"She still had not returned by the time I left."
Darcy considered this for a minute, and then said, "As much as I would like to believe she simply took me at my word, her speech last night makes that unlikely. Perhaps you should seek her out, Richard."
His cousin shook his head. "You do not give Miss Elizabeth the credit she deserves. She is a clever woman--surely she would see that you would not suggest she speak to me if you did not know I would corroborate your word." Darcy hesitated and Richard continued. "And there is more beside. Yesterday when we spoke, she said something about Georgiana which accidentally came very near the mark. If she recalled my reaction, that may give your words all the verisimilitude they require."
Darcy shook his head. "I hope you are right, Richard, for we leave on the morrow whether she has inquired of you or not. I cannot stand to remain here another day."
"I cannot see why you must leave so early, Darcy," Lady Catherine complained the next morning.
Darcy paced on the other side of the room and scowled out the window.
What is taking Parker so long?
he wondered.
Surely the carriage should be ready to go by now.
Undaunted by his lack of reply, his aunt continued her tirade. "Had you but stayed a little longer, we could have shared an early nuncheon with you of cold meats and cheese."
"Your cook packed us food, Aunt." Richard held the hamper up.
She looked at it and her nostrils thinned. "Very well, but why must you leave today? Anne had quite expected you to stay through till the end of April, did you not, Anne?" The young lady made a sound that might be taken for assent, and Lady Catherine continued. "I do not know why you need to be away so suddenly."
"I do not know why you expected us to stay a month when our original plan was two weeks." Darcy crossed his arms and glared at his aunt. "We have already extended our stay once; now we really must leave."
Lady Catherine opened her mouth, but the entrance of a footman forestalled any further argument. "Everything is packed, Mr. Darcy," he said. "The carriage awaits you."
The two cousins bowed to Lady Catherine and Anne. "As always, our visit has been a pleasure," Darcy said, able to be civil now that he knew he was truly leaving.
"Goodbye, Aunt--Anne." Richard pressed a kiss to both hands and then the gentlemen left.
In the privacy of the carriage, Richard began to laugh. Darcy frowned and said, "What, pray tell, is so amusing?"
"The look on your face when our aunt suggested we stay longer. I thought you would run her through."
Darcy grunted. "I cannot abide her controlling behavior. I do not see how Anne manages. Do you remember what she was like as a child?"
"Ah, but that was before she fell ill--and before her father died," Richard pointed out, and Darcy shrugged his shoulders in concession.
A figure on the side of the road ended their conversation. "I see the estimable parson would like to bid us adieu," Richard said. Mr. Collins bowed so low his cravat dragged in the dirt. When he straightened, Darcy touched the brim of his hat in acknowledgment and then they passed.
An awkward silence filled the carriage. Both men were thinking of their visits to Hunsford, and neither could think of anything to say that would not bring up painful topics.
"I do not see," Darcy said at last, "how she could possibly compare me unfavorably to Wickham." Of all things, this offended him most. "I had thought her to be more insightful than that."
"You are unjust," Richard said. "Wickham is a great deceiver; you should know that better than most." A dull heat rose in Darcy's face at the implication, but Richard did not stop there. "You do not blame Georgiana for believing his lies. How can you blame Miss Bennet?"
"Georgiana is a girl of fifteen. Elizabeth is a young lady of twenty," Darcy protested.
Richard snorted. "That makes little difference in matters such as these. Miss Bennet is just as ignorant of the ways of rakes as Georgiana was." He studied Darcy through narrowed eyes. "I believe the true difference is that she hurt your insufferable pride. Well, perhaps instead of snorting like a wounded bear, you might consider how Miss Bennet feels, now that she realizes how wrong she has been in her estimations of you both."
The rest of the journey to London was silent. Richard did not know he had echoed Elizabeth's invectives against Darcy with the phrase "insufferable pride," but Darcy could think of nothing else.
He had been able to dismiss the charge when it came from Elizabeth alone. She did not know him so well, and she had clearly been blinded by her own partialities. However, with Richard's voice added to the accusation, it carried more weight. His cousin knew him well; the two men were as close as brothers--there could be no undue prejudice swaying his opinion. A seed of doubt settled in the back of his mind.
Am I overly proud?
He had not yet found an answer when the carriage pulled up to Darcy House. "Come, Richard," he said, "Georgiana is most anxious to see you again. I do not think she has forgiven me for taking you away from London so soon after your return from France."
And indeed, she was waiting for them in the foyer, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She gave a cry of delight when she saw them, and Richard stepped forward and caught her and swung her around before setting her down.
"Come, let us go inside," she urged them both. "The calendar may say April, but it is still chilly in the evenings, and I have tea ready for us in the salon."
The two gentlemen allowed her to walk slightly ahead of them, and Richard turned to Darcy. "Be careful, William, or she will be a grown woman before we realize it."
"You need not warn me of this, Richard, I assure you." Darcy sighed, but he smiled after his sister.
Once she had poured tea for everyone, Georgiana turned to her brother with an eager expression on her face, and Richard chuckled. "Ah, you had best be on your guard, William. She is about to ask you for a very great favor--I know that look."