B00CO8L910 EBOK (30 page)

A rustling in the bushes near her feet roused Elizabeth back to her task at hand. She saw a rabbit dart across the garden to another bush, and she cut another flower.

After allowing herself to grieve Mr. Darcy’s departure that morning three days ago, taking her future with him, Elizabeth stirred herself to calm her disturbed, unequal spirits. After all, she knew that living in a village like Meryton, gossip would run wild if she showed her loss. She could not bear to expose him to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, or herself to its derision for disappointed hopes. The world could not know their reasons, and she would not give it a source to involve either of them in further misery of the acutest kind. Her resolve allowed her to walk and talk amongst her family with all the blithe ambivalence she did not feel.

At night when she was alone, she would take out her handkerchief — his handkerchief — and sob without restraint. The torment of the last few days had wearied her spirits.

Elizabeth sighed as she placed the last bloom in her basket. She made her way slowly back to the house. When she reached the side door, she was met by her mother. Mrs. Bennet had watched her daughter in the garden. Her noticeable lapses in concentration those last few days had concerned her parents. Although appearing to walk through her day with composure, her manner did not have the same vivacity. Furthermore, Mrs. Bennet had observed her daughter withdraw into herself when she thought no one was looking, her eyes revealing a sorrow that pricked their hearts.

Mrs. Bennet had never been a keen observer, and although she was delighted with the attentions Mr. Darcy had given her daughter during the wedding week, she had not suspected a serious attachment between them until he had left. His departure from the area must be the source of her daughter’s unhappiness.

“Thank you, my dear,” she said as she took the basket of flowers from Elizabeth.

Elizabeth managed a half smile for her mother before she turned to walk past her. Mrs. Bennet looked down at the basket in her hands, noticing that all the blooms selected were half wilted and certainly not the best of those available. She frowned, considering again her daughter’s situation.

“Have you written back to Miss Darcy yet, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth stopped and turned slowly to her mother with a quizzical brow. Then she remembered that Miss Darcy had left her a note when she did not come down to see her before she took her leave. It had been too much to face Darcy’s sister, the girl she had grown to love as her own.

“Not yet, Mama,” Elizabeth whispered.

“I suppose you are waiting until she is settled again in London. It has been a few days now, though,” her mother suggested kindly.

Elizabeth nodded and walked towards the stairs to her room. She had not written Georgiana because she did not think he would wish for the reminder. As much as it pained her to disappoint her friend, she did not think that either should further the acquaintance. His best friend was already married to her sister. They would often be thrown into each other’s presence, and eventually he would marry. She quickened her steps until she reached her door.

Stepping across the threshold, she turned and closed the door behind her, sinking against the wood. The very thought of his marrying anyone turned her stomach and caused her heart to beat painfully. He had a legacy to continue — an heir to secure for Pemberley. It was reasonable to assume that he would eventually overcome his affections and resolve himself to find another. She vowed she could not. She had no legacy, not without Mr. Darcy.

Walking towards her bed, Elizabeth sank heavily onto it. It had only been three days, and she was tortured with the thought of his moving on. She knew he loved her, knew he must be suffering with her now, but somehow she could not believe her hold on him could last forever. As for herself, she was his and would be until her last.

* * *

When Colonel Fitzwilliam knocked on his cousin’s bedchamber door, he received no answer. He suspected such would be the case, and so he raised his voice to be heard through the wood paneling.

“Darcy! It’s Richard! You have about three minutes to ready yourself before I open this door!”

A movement down the hall made Richard look in that direction. A chambermaid who had heard his declaration looked scandalized as she hurriedly entered another room. Richard smiled, amused. He took out his pocket watch and looked at the time. There were no sounds from within, and though the exacted time had not passed, Richard retrieved the key he had charmed off of Mrs. Carroll earlier and put it into the locked door.

Turning the key and entering the room, his senses were assaulted by a surfeit of unpleasantness. The room was stiflingly warm with a roaring fire in the hearth in the middle of August. The heavy drapes were pulled closed, trapping the heat inside and the light out. His eyes adjusted to the dimness and found his cousin.

Darcy was sprawled in front of the fire with his legs stretched before him, still in the same coat and waistcoat in which Richard last saw him days ago. His neckcloth was discarded, a crumpled heap on the floor. A three-day beard darkened the already dismal look on his cousin’s face. Walking further into the room, Richard was assaulted by the stench of an unwashed body and strong spirits. Disgusted, he did not attempt to lower his voice as he allowed a few choice expletives to escape.

Immediately, he tore open the drapes and unlatched the window to allow in a fresh, cool breeze. Turning towards his cousin, the colonel said, “I have seen barracks of footwablers in better shape then you and this room, Cousin.” He shook his head, taking in a deep breath of air by the open window.

Darcy took no notice of his cousin’s words and remained still, staring into the fire.

“Ignoring me, I see,” Richard droned — still no response from his cousin.

“Very well, it suits my purpose better this way. I will not have to endure your insipid arguments, and you have a lot to hear from me.”

Richard waited to see whether his hard words had any effect. They did not. Although he had genuine concern for his cousin, he grew livid thinking of the worry that Georgiana had suffered while his cousin nursed his sorrows with brandy.

“You, sir, are a coward.” Richard was satisfied to see his cousin wince. “You claim to be in love with the girl, and yet you will not fight for her. So she tells you she will not have you because of your negligence with Wickham? Give over! Convince the chit you deserve her anyway!”

Nearly startling his cousin, Darcy’s voice was low and incensed. “Do not refer to that lady so disrespectfully, Richard.”

Richard smiled. At least he got a response. “And why should I not? If Miss Bennet has no more sense than to see the man you are through what has happened, then she does not deserve my respect.”

Darcy clenched his teeth and brought the glass to his mouth for a practiced swig. He had already engaged in more of this conversation than he had wanted to.

“Deuces, man! Perhaps it is she who does not deserve you.” Darcy growled, yet his cousin went on. “She laid blame on you for the whole of it, did she? I have to say I am disappointed. I had not thought Miss Bennet so unfeeling. What were her exact words?”

Though preferring his own silence, Darcy could not let his cousin disparage her. “She had no words; I saw the condemnation in her eyes.”

Richard groaned into his hands and tried to control his sudden aggravation. “Are you telling me that, after encountering Miss Bennet and learning of Wickham’s deception with her sister, you
saw
her assign the blame to you in her
eyes
?”

Darcy did not deem his cousin’s sarcasm worthy of a reply.

“If you will not answer, I will assume it was so. Well then, I take back everything I have said. I am only sorry for what my own feelings have been.” He stood up to leave.

Darcy said nothing, still irritated at the interruption and frustrated by his cousin’s mockery.

Richard turned one last time to his cousin. “I came here out of concern for you, and I saw the anxiety that your wallowing has caused Georgiana. I see now that I have no reason to feel pity for you — not when I see that you are determined to be the blasted, honorable idiot that you think you are. I did not think Miss Bennet could have spoken such words. It did not seem in her nature be so unreasonable. Her eyes — humph!” Richard laughed mockingly.

Darcy shook his head; his cousin did not understand, and he could not expect him to.

“What seems more likely is that the lady would be concerned that
you
would not have
her
—certainly, not after having knowledge of her fallen sister.”

Darcy’s head snapped up. “Don’t be ridiculous! I could not love her less were
all
her sisters ruined.”

“But does she know that?”

Darcy returned to his drink; his only response was the rapid blinking of his eyes as he considered his cousin’s words.

Richard was getting tired of his cousin’s sour mood, the putrid room and its stifling heat. His tone was clipped and irritated. “So your plan to win her favor is to languish in this room brooding? Growing more dissolute by the hour, is it? A fine plan, Darcy.”

Richard walked towards the door and turned only when he had opened it. “And take a bath, Cousin; you stink.”

Darcy flinched at the loud sound of his chamber door slamming shut. If there had been any possibility Elizabeth did not hold him culpable, he would jump at it and prove to her his worthiness, but he had not the slightest hope. However, his cousin was right about one thing. He could not shut himself in his chambers forever, especially not when he considered Georgiana. Richard’s reminder of his duty to his sister pierced him. For the first time in days, he felt the stifling heat of the fire he had requested to be lit in an attempt to stave off the chill in his heart. He rang for his valet. The man was much relieved to receive his master’s request for a bath and a shave. Darcy was humbled. His staff and Georgiana had been worried about him. Although he knew he could never forget Elizabeth, he could no longer disregard his responsibilities.

After a bath and a shave, Darcy fell into his bed exhausted. He had not slept for most of the last few days and now that he had resolved to attempt normalcy again, his body succumbed. He noted the cleanliness of his room, obviously done while he bathed. The thought of his housekeeper’s efficiency being his last, Darcy drifted into numbing sleep.

* * *

As Georgiana expelled a deep breath, her shoulders sagged. She reached for her sealing wax and held it above the candle over her letter. Watching the deep purple of the wax drip onto the crisp paper, she said a small prayer that her efforts would help. Georgiana then pressed her Darcy seal into the hot wax. Her writing table was covered with the edges of her pen as she had mended it throughout the course of writing her letter to Elizabeth. Bits of the quill were scattered everywhere and blotted sheets of previous drafts were crumbled and discarded to the side.

Although it was difficult to relive the events of her past, it was liberating at the same time. For the first time, she felt that she had moved beyond the horrible events of last summer in Ramsgate. She loved Elizabeth, and she loved her brother. Furthermore, she knew they loved each other and deserved happiness ever after.

Her motives were not totally altruistic. Elizabeth had become quite dear to Georgiana. She had been guided by Elizabeth’s bright, lively personality, strengthening her own confidence to step beyond her timid tendencies. Their shared friendship was more important to her than any other friendship she had known. She was apprehensive that the contents she had shared in her letter would change Elizabeth’s opinion of her, but it was a risk she must take.

Standing, Georgiana pulled the cord, summoning a servant to collect the letter. She instructed it to be posted by way of express. Then she said another little prayer.

* * *

Mr. Bennet thanked Mr. Hill when he brought the post into his study. While he flipped through the letters of correspondence and business, he looked over to his favorite daughter, reading a book in her chair by the hearth. Mr. Bennet frowned; he did not like to see her so lost. Even now as she was looking down at her book, he could see that her eyes were not focused on the words on the page but somewhere beyond his study.

Mr. Bennet pursed his lips and looked down again at the letters in his hand. He placed them on the stack of other matters of business to which he had yet to attend and thought about what he ought to say to his daughter. Just as he was about to address her, there was a knock on the door and Mr. Hill entered with another letter. This one was marked express, and it was addressed to Elizabeth from Miss Darcy. Mr. Bennet thanked Mr. Hill and placed the letter in his pocket when he saw that his daughter had not even noticed the interruption.

He walked over to the chair next to her and reached for her hand. Elizabeth started in surprise but gave him a small smile.

“Are you enjoying that book, Lizzy? You seem quite engrossed in it.”

Elizabeth cleared her throat and attempted to put a bit of levity into her voice. “Yes, Papa. It is very diverting.”

Mr. Bennet smiled sadly at his daughter and then reached for the book and placed it back in her hands with the text facing the right way up. “I suppose it would be quite diverting to read upside down and backwards,” he teased.