Mr. Darcy's Obsession (12 page)

She put all thought of the future from her mind and concentrated on the present, on the strength of the tall figure beside her, the fine weave of his coat sleeve beneath her fingers, the scent of new leather and horses that accompanied him, the deep timbre of his voice as he asked if there was anything he could do for her present relief. She hardly knew what she said in response, so caught up was she in the moment.

Too soon they were at her uncle's door. Darcy was slow to release her hand, slow enough that Elizabeth feared the neighbours would notice the novel sight of an elegant gentleman's attentions to her. It did not matter what they saw; soon enough she would be far from Cheapside and their gossip.

Darcy's fingers tightened on hers as he bowed over her hand. "I wish you a pleasant journey, Miss Bennet."

"I thank you, Mr. Darcy, and... may God bless you." She held his eyes for one long moment and then hurried up the stairs and into the house.

Darcy did not move. He could not tear himself from the sight of the door that had closed behind Elizabeth. He knew she would not come out again, but he wished to be as near to her as he could. He could not stand there all day, so he turned on his heel and strode back the way they had come, until he reached the edge of Moorsfield, where Charlie stood guard over his horse.

The boy grinned impishly as Darcy paid him for his labours. "Thank ye, sir. Always happy to be of service."

Darcy nodded and took the reins, but as he was about to mount, the boy's words echoed in his ears. He turned back decisively towards Charlie. "Would you be interested, then, if I had further employment for you, a position that would require some weeks of your time, as well as your discretion?"

Charlie's face lit up. "Of course. What is it ye want me to do?"

"I will explain it to you at my house. Can you come there yet today?"

The boy cast a practised look at the sun. "You can count on me, sir."

Chapter 9

Charlie looked more out of place than ever in Darcy's study, making Darcy wonder briefly about the wisdom of his idea. "You seem to be a clever lad. Do you learn quickly?"

"Very quickly, sir," the boy said stoutly.

"Good, for you must learn a great deal about millinery."

His face took on a comical look of surprise. "Millinery, sir?"

"Yes, millinery," Darcy said dryly. "I have no doubts about your spying skill, but this requires specialized knowledge."

Charlie looked smug. "I won't let you down, sir."

"Very good." Darcy rang the bell. He had told Mary to expect his summons, so she appeared promptly. "Mary, I have a special task I wish you to undertake. This young man needs to learn about millinery. Can you take him in hand and teach him?"

"Millinery, sir?" Her tone was an unconscious echo of Charlie's. "Sir, I don't know much about it."

"No, but you are far more expert than I, or any other man, I doubt not. Take him around to shops and teach him which ribbons are fine and which are not. Can you do that?" Darcy noticed Mary eyeing the boy's rags. "Find him some respectable clothes first, and clean him up."

Mary looked at him as if he had lost his mind, but she curtsied and said, "Very well, sir."

"You will need to make some purchases, I imagine, lest the shop owners wonder at your presence." He rummaged in his pocket and held out several shillings. She took the coins gingerly, with a sidelong glance at the boy. "I do not want to hear other members of the household speaking of this matter, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." She seemed even more confused.

"Thank you, Mary." He waved them out of the room. Settling back in his familiar leather chair, he tapped his fingers against his lips thoughtfully.

***

Mrs. Bennet greeted her newly arrived daughter from her sickbed with expressions of delight Elizabeth had not expected. Apparently she had grown in her mother's favour during her long absence, or perhaps it was simply the novelty of a change.

She kissed her mother's cheek, feeling the heat of a low fever in it, yet grateful it was no worse. She settled herself in the hard-backed chair beside the bed, anticipating a long litany of complaints regarding her mother's health and nerves, but to Elizabeth's surprise, Mrs. Bennet asked first how the townsfolk had greeted her on her arrival.

Elizabeth brushed a speck of road dust from her skirt. "I saw only Mr. Daniels at the posting inn, and he enquired after you quite civilly."

"That is the best we may hope for, I suppose. Lord, Lizzy, how did this calamity come upon us?"

"Do you speak of my unfortunate sister?"

Mrs. Bennet waved her handkerchief weakly. "What else? Your uncle's clerk was about to offer for Kitty, I am sure of it, but now he will have nothing to do with her. Why did my dear Lydia have to be so foolish? I have told her a thousand times that a man will not buy the cow when he gets the milk for free. I am sure she could have landed a fine husband had she kept her wits about her."

Elizabeth blushed at her mother's crudity. "Lydia said no one here knew of her condition."

"No one
knows,
it is true, but there are always rumours, and Lieutenant Ralston, whom we all thought so charming, has boasted of his conquest. Apparently he had no intent to wed her; he thought her portion too small. If only they had married, how lovely it would have been!"

"There is no point in thinking of what might have been," Elizabeth said briskly. "Perhaps it will all be forgotten in a few months."

"Do not tell me not to think on it! If only
you
had married Mr. Collins as I told you, none of this would have happened. We would still be at Longbourn, and Lydia with us."

It might be true, but poverty and disgrace were a preferable outcome. Elizabeth reached down and plumped her mother's pillow. She wondered how she would bear living in these crowded quarters with the constant litany from her mother.

The conversation continued for nearly half an hour. Afterwards, Elizabeth realized her mother had not once mentioned her nerves. It was almost as if she were a different person from the woman who had been mistress of Longbourn. Her understanding was no deeper than it ever was, and her silliness could not be denied, but there was some change, a practicality Elizabeth had never recognized in her mother before. She wondered whether her nervous complaints had ceased because there was no one to attend to them, or perhaps because she no longer lived with a man who alternately mocked and ignored her. Having contemplated marriage to Mr. Griggs, a man she did not love, had taught Elizabeth to consider her parents' marriage in a new light.

***

The following morning dawned with mist softening the rough edges of Meryton and dampness masking the sour odor of too many people living in too small a space. Elizabeth had slept restlessly, sharing a bed with her mother, whose tossings, turnings, and mutterings did not bespeak a refreshing sleep. Still, her mother's body was no longer hot to the touch, and her breathing sounded less raspy, so Elizabeth determined it would be safe for her to leave briefly to seek out Jane.

It was already late enough that many villagers were astir, and several stopped to greet Elizabeth, slowing her progress. Eventually she made her way to Mr. Browning's shop, where she had often taken her custom in her younger, more carefree days, but then Jane had been by her side. Now, as she pushed the shop door open, causing a small bell to tinkle, she found Jane behind the counter, sorting through a bin of coloured threads.

Jane's face lit up at the sight of her sister, and she hurried to embrace Elizabeth. Elizabeth's eyes burned with tears of happiness to be with her beloved sister again. Jane's slim figure was unrecognizable with pregnancy, but nothing could disguise her beauty.

"Oh, Lizzy, I am so glad you are returned!" Jane drew out a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. "I have missed you so. Mama has been frantic with worry over Lydia." She glanced over her shoulder, as if to make sure no one had overheard.

Elizabeth gripped Jane's hands. "I am sorry you have been left with so many burdens, but now I am here to share them. And you? Are you well?"

"I have no complaints. I am a little weary of swollen hands and feet, and I tire more easily than I would like, but it will be over soon enough. It will be so much easier, now that you are here. I will not fear my confinement so much, knowing you will be there."

Elizabeth wondered who would have helped Jane through her delivery otherwise. Kitty, perhaps. Their mother might do more harm than good.

The bell jingled again as an older townswoman entered the shop. Jane immediately turned her attention to the new customer, patiently showing her the buttons and trims she requested. Elizabeth, uncomfortable seeing Jane in this role, wandered about the shop as if examining the notions. The shop was cleaner and tidier than she recalled, with more light, despite the cloudy skies outside. A ginger cat sat in a corner, licking herself daintily. When Elizabeth drew near, the cat skittered away to crouch under a table and became preoccupied with some phantom cat-interest in the corner, her ears back and tail lashing. Her antics entertained Elizabeth until the customer departed.

When Elizabeth could once again claim her sister's attention, she ran her fingertip along the edge of a satin ribbon displayed on a side table. "Jane, Mr. Browning knew what he was about when he asked you to marry him. I recognize your touch here. The shop is more inviting, and the ribbon was never this fine before."

Jane, one hand on her lower back, settled onto a stool beside the counter. "Thank you, but it is not all my doing. I arrange the wares, but Mr. Browning is responsible for the choice of goods. He has expanded the notions, as you see, and we carry more fabrics and hats, but that is because we have a new seamstress and have invested in more merchandise. We have been fortunate."

There was a thump from the back corner, and the cat reappeared, proudly carrying a squirming mouse in her mouth.

"And you have a useful cat," said Elizabeth. "But the shop must have become more successful to allow the greater investment."

Jane shook her head. "Mr. Browning found an investor. He was correct; better merchandise has improved our custom."

It was a shock to hear Jane sound like a shopkeeper. It was not just her words; her new status showed in her appearance as well. Although she was as lovely as ever, Jane wore a less ornate hairstyle and a simpler dress. Still, she seemed content enough. Elizabeth wished she shared Jane's gift for finding happiness in trying situations. Now that her own hopes had been dashed once more, she found Meryton stifling.

Noticing the dark circles of fatigue under Jane's eyes, Elizabeth said, "Perhaps I can assist you, now that I am here."

"Oh, Lizzy! I could never ask you to work in the store!"

Yet Jane did not hesitate to take such labour on herself. Elizabeth forced herself to laugh. "I am not afraid of hard work, and it will give me an excuse to be away from Aunt Philips's rooms. And this way I can see to it that you rest occasionally."

The relief on Jane's face was reward enough. "I cannot say the assistance would be unwelcome, but are you certain, Lizzy?"

"Of course," Elizabeth said stoutly. Her courage would rise to meet the occasion.

***

Elizabeth had never realized how hard shopkeepers worked until she took Jane's place in the shop, nor had she given a thought to how shops were run. It looked simple when one could just stroll in and buy what one wished. It was another matter completely to keep the displays always neat and free of dust and soot, to keep the fire burning, and to perform the endless little sewing tasks, not to mention writing out bills by candlelight after the shop had closed. She had not realized the magnitude of Jane's sacrifice for her family's sake, but Mr. Browning paid the apothecary who cared for Mrs. Bennet, helped with her bills at the butcher and greengrocer, and provided Kitty--and Lydia before her--with pretty trinkets from his stock. Elizabeth had to admit his generosity could not be faulted, but she could not forget how much Jane might have been spared had she herself chosen to accept Mr. Collins. Elizabeth did not mind paying the price herself for her decision, but it was hard to see Jane suffer for it.

She was relieved when Mr. Browning announced that he had made arrangements to take on a new apprentice. Elizabeth hoped he would arrive before Jane's confinement, so that she could spend more time with her sister during that time, but either Mr. Browning chose to keep that information to himself, or perhaps he did not know.

Elizabeth's solace came from seeing Jane's greater comfort as a result of her labours. Elizabeth's long walks in the early morning to her favourite haunts prepared her for the even longer days inside the shop with hardly a breath of fresh air. In occasional free moments, she wrote letters to her aunt and cousins filled with amusing details of life in Meryton.

She tried hard to keep Mr. Darcy from her mind, but without success. Her busy days could distract her, but each night thoughts of him returned to her as she lay waiting for sleep to come, and memories of their last walk, his fingers entwined with hers, created both joy and sadness. She did not know if she would ever see him again, a thought that caused many a wakeful night where she would press her hand against her cheek trying to regain that magic moment. Then her mother would complain that Elizabeth was disturbing her rest, and she would try to stay as still as possible until sleep finally took her away.

How could he maintain an interest in her now, with her situation so drastically beneath his? She knew that he should give her up rather than risk scandal and disgrace, but his interest in her had persisted so long already, through so many setbacks, that she could not give up hope completely that somehow he would find a way. She would have no answer, though, until he either appeared or until she gave up any hope, and the waiting was agonizing.

A fortnight after her return to Meryton, she received a letter from Mrs. Gardiner. Elizabeth opened it eagerly, scanning through it until a familiar name jumped out at her.

Mr. Darcy called a week ago, no doubt in search of intelligence about you. Lydia's behaviour could not be trusted that morning, so I dared not admit him. Bates tells me he asked when you might return to London. He is a little forward, I must say; but perhaps in this circumstance it is understandable. Once this is behind us, we must make a point of inviting Mr. Darcy and his sister to dinner.

Elizabeth read the paragraph several times over, as if in hope of finding new information. Surely it must be a good sign that he had sought her out once more. A hot surge of hope rushed through her. How could she possibly bear the uncertainty?

As Jane's time drew nearer, Elizabeth spent more time at the Brownings, usually assisting in the shop so Jane could rest. She did not mind the work so much when it made the laggard hours go more swiftly. She developed a certain respect for Mr. Browning, discovering that his mind was sharper than she thought, albeit his education and manner of speech were sometimes lacking. She had once again judged only on appearances.

It was painful when old friends and acquaintances shopped there, though. Some were overly sympathetic, some were condescending, and a few pretended not to know her; but none could be completely neutral. Elizabeth knew she would find it equally difficult to be waited upon by someone she considered an equal, and understood the sympathetic acquaintances; but the others made her wish she could speak as freely as when her father had been alive.